The Substitute Wife's Sweet Escape

The Substitute Wife's Sweet Escape

Yi Ye

5.0
Comment(s)
23.3K
View
24
Chapters

For three years, I was a substitute for my twin sister, married to the powerful Donovan Blackwood. It was a contract. My payment for enduring his coldness was fifty million dollars and my freedom. But my husband had a woman he truly loved, Chloe Sanders. At her request, he pushed me into the freezing ocean. When we both fell from a yacht, he screamed for the rescuers to save her first, leaving me to drown. He even traded me to a torturer to get her back. Through it all, I endured. Not for love, but for the money. He mistook my silence for devotion, my endurance for love. He never realized that every cruel act didn't break my heart, it just ticked down the clock on my sentence. Now, the contract is over. The fifty million dollars is in my account. I left the wedding ring on his pillow and walked away without a backward glance. I thought it was the end. But I underestimated his obsession. He's just now realizing the truth, and he's coming for me. He thinks he can apologize. He thinks he can get me back.

Chapter 1 Chapter 1

For three years, I was a substitute for my twin sister, married to the powerful Donovan Blackwood. It was a contract. My payment for enduring his coldness was fifty million dollars and my freedom.

But my husband had a woman he truly loved, Chloe Sanders.

At her request, he pushed me into the freezing ocean.

When we both fell from a yacht, he screamed for the rescuers to save her first, leaving me to drown.

He even traded me to a torturer to get her back.

Through it all, I endured. Not for love, but for the money. He mistook my silence for devotion, my endurance for love.

He never realized that every cruel act didn't break my heart, it just ticked down the clock on my sentence.

Now, the contract is over. The fifty million dollars is in my account.

I left the wedding ring on his pillow and walked away without a backward glance.

I thought it was the end. But I underestimated his obsession. He's just now realizing the truth, and he's coming for me. He thinks he can apologize. He thinks he can get me back.

Chapter 1

The phone rang, a shrill sound in the quiet library of the Blackwood mansion. It was my mother. Her voice was thin and tight over the line.

"Ava, it's almost time. The three years are up tomorrow."

I closed the heavy book in front of me, the scent of old paper and leather filling my lungs. Three years. It felt like a lifetime.

"The trust fund is ready," she continued, her voice gaining a greedy edge. "Fifty million dollars. Once the contract is officially terminated, it's all yours. You'll finally be free."

Free. The word echoed in the vast, empty room. It was the only thing that had kept me going.

"I know," I said. My voice was calm, a still lake on a windless day. There was nothing left inside me to stir.

My gaze fell on the wedding band on my finger. It was a cold, heavy circle of platinum, studded with diamonds I never looked at too closely. It wasn't mine. Nothing in this house was. Not the name, not the life, and certainly not the man who was legally my husband.

I was a ghost. A substitute.

Three years ago, my twin sister, Isabella, was supposed to marry Donovan Blackwood. It was a merger of families, a deal sealed with a wedding vow. But Isabella, who always craved a different kind of freedom, ran away the night before the wedding.

My family was thrown into chaos. The Millers couldn't afford to lose the Blackwood alliance. So they came to me.

"You have to do it, Ava," my father had said, his face pale with panic. "You look exactly like her. No one will know."

"It's only for three years," my mother had added, her eyes avoiding mine. "There's a trust fund attached to the contract. Fifty million dollars. It becomes yours when the three years are up. Think of it, Ava. Your own money. Complete independence."

My grandfather, the patriarch of the family, gave me the final warning. "Don't get any ideas, girl. This is a job. Donovan Blackwood is not a man to be trifled with. He had a woman he loved, Chloe Sanders. Our deal forced them apart. He will never love you. He will probably hate you. Just do your part, play the role of Isabella, and get out with the money."

He was right. Donovan didn't just ignore me; he treated me like a stain on his perfect world. My life in the Blackwood mansion was a study in silence and invisibility. I lived in a separate wing. We ate at opposite ends of a comically long dining table, if we ate together at all. I was Mrs. Blackwood on paper, but in reality, I was just the placeholder.

I had tried, in the beginning. I learned his favorite foods, the way he liked his coffee, the precise temperature he preferred for his study. I thought if I could just be useful, maybe the coldness in his eyes would thaw.

For a brief period, it seemed to work. He started acknowledging my presence with a nod. Once, he even said, "Thank you," when I brought him a file he'd forgotten. A tiny flicker of hope ignited within me. Maybe, just maybe, this could be more than a transaction.

Then Chloe Sanders came back.

She returned to the city, a damsel in distress, and all of Donovan's attention, which was barely on me to begin with, snapped back to her. My existence was erased once more. The fragile peace shattered, and we were back to square one.

But it didn't hurt. Not really. Because I had a secret that kept me safe, a shield around my heart. I never loved him. Not for a single second.

All of this-the silent meals, the public smiles, the lonely nights-it was all just a job. A long, difficult, soul-crushing job with a fifty-million-dollar payday. That money was my real goal. It was my escape from a childhood where I was always second best, the shadow to Isabella's sun. The quiet one, the plain one, the one they never noticed unless they needed something. That money meant I would never have to depend on anyone ever again.

The memory of the rain lashing against the windows was vivid. It was a year ago, a storm raging outside, mirroring the one that was always brewing inside this house. My phone had rung. It was Donovan.

"Chloe is sick. She has a fever and needs her prescription. The pharmacy is about to close. Go get it and take it to her." His voice was a whip crack, sharp and unforgiving.

I didn't argue. I just put on a coat, took the keys to one of the lesser cars in the garage, and drove into the storm. The wind and rain were so violent I could barely see the road. I got the medicine and drove to Chloe's penthouse.

The door was unlocked. I was about to go in when I heard voices from the living room. Donovan was there, along with one of his friends.

"You're really going to keep that woman in your house?" his friend asked. "After everything? Chloe is right here. Why don't you just end it?"

Donovan's reply was a shard of ice. "The contract is almost up. It's complicated. But make no mistake, if I had to choose between her and Chloe, if one of them was drowning, I'd save Chloe. Every single time."

I stood there, soaked to the bone, the rain dripping from my hair onto the plush carpet. The medicine bag in my hand felt impossibly heavy.

I walked into the room. Their conversation stopped. Donovan looked at me, my drenched and pathetic state. For a fleeting moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes-was it surprise? Concern?

It vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"You took long enough," he said, his voice cold again.

I handed him the bag. "Give this to Miss Sanders," he ordered, not even looking at me. I walked over to the couch where Chloe lay, looking pale and fragile, and placed the bag on the table.

I returned to the mansion, stripped off my wet clothes, and stood under a hot shower, trying to wash away the chill. But it wasn't the rain that had frozen me. It was the clarity.

Donovan walked into my room later that night, his face a mask of fury. He smelled of whiskey and Chloe's perfume.

"What did you say to her?" he snarled, grabbing my arm.

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me! She's hysterical. She said you threatened her!"

He pushed me. Hard. I stumbled backward, my heel catching on the edge of the rug. I fell, my head hitting the corner of the staircase with a sickening crack. Pain exploded behind my eyes.

"You pushed me," I whispered, tasting blood.

"You probably deserved it," he spat, looming over me. "Don't you ever forget what this is, Ava. Or Isabella, or whoever the hell you are. This is a contract. A business deal. It has nothing to do with feelings, especially not yours."

As darkness crept in at the edges of my vision, one thought remained crystal clear. He was right. It was just a contract. And tomorrow, it would be over. I had never wanted his love. I had only ever wanted to be free of him.

Continue Reading

Other books by Yi Ye

More
Too Late For Regret: My Cold Husband's Tears

Too Late For Regret: My Cold Husband's Tears

Billionaires

5.0

I stared at the cold crystal chandelier of our penthouse, my body aching from an act that felt less like love and more like a hostile takeover. After four years of being treated like a piece of furniture, I finally slammed the divorce papers onto the marble island. But Easton Reilly didn’t even blink. Instead, he took a frantic call from his ex-girlfriend and walked out on me to go to her, leaving me naked and shivering in our walk-in closet. The humiliation didn't stop there. That night, his mistress unveiled a massive oil painting of Easton’s bare, scarred back to a room full of New York's elite, stripping me of my dignity as his wife. When I fled to my childhood home for refuge, I found my mother in a pool of blood after a violent breakdown. My father, concerned only with his company’s stock price, refused to call an ambulance and handed me a hush-money check while my mother lay dying. Even my brother-in-law, the man who had traded me to Easton years ago, tried to assault me in the driveway. I felt like I was drowning in plain sight, surrounded by wolves who viewed my life as nothing more than a line on a balance sheet. I hated Easton for his indifference and my father for his cruelty. I was ready to burn my entire world down just to feel the warmth of the fire. "He took the bait," I whispered into my phone, my voice dead calm. "Initiate Plan B." Just as my father prepared to let my mother die, a team of world-class surgeons stormed the hospital, citing a secret clause in my prenup that I had long forgotten. I looked down the sterile hallway and saw the silhouette of the husband I was trying to leave. He hadn't gone to his mistress; he had gone to war for me. The game had officially changed.

Silent Vows: Protected By The Billionaire

Silent Vows: Protected By The Billionaire

Modern

5.0

The $50 million lawsuit notice on my phone screen was a violent, pulsing red. My father’s corporate espionage had finally caught up to us, and he was ready to throw me to the wolves to save his own skin. To survive, I signed a contract marriage with the predator himself—Alaric Hunter, the very man currently dismantling my family’s legacy. But the moment we left City Hall, my father turned into a monster. He called the hospital and canceled the private care for my dying mother, moving her to a miserable state ward just to break my spirit for "disobeying" him. "I will find the money," I hissed, even as my throat threatened to close from the paralyzing stress. "You’ll come crawling back when that monster dumps you!" my father roared, leaving me standing in the rain with nothing but a battered suitcase. My ex-boyfriend, the man who actually falsified the documents that framed me, mocked me from his Ferrari, while Alaric’s own business rivals planted hidden cameras in our new penthouse to watch our every move. I was a legal shield, a corporate asset, and a target all at once. I didn't understand why Alaric was suddenly paying my mother’s medical bills in secret or why he looked at me with such chilling intensity. Was I just a tool for his voting shares, or was he the only person in this city who actually wanted me safe? I looked at the files Alaric left on the marble counter, filled with evidence against everyone who had ever hurt me. I was done being the victim of a hostile takeover; it was time to show them what happens when a Hunter’s wife decides to start hunting.

The Runaway Astrophysicist And Her Secret

The Runaway Astrophysicist And Her Secret

Romance

5.0

After five years of a cold, empty marriage to tech titan Arlo Hatfield, I tricked him into signing our divorce papers, disguised as a grant application for my astrophysics fellowship in Chile. Just as my escape was within reach, I discovered I was pregnant. At the same time, I found Arlo doting on his childhood sweetheart, Brielle, who was faking her own pregnancy to win him over. In the hospital, suffering from a real pregnancy complication, I watched as Arlo rushed to Brielle' s side, completely ignoring my pain. He was so blinded by her lies that he didn't even realize I was carrying his child, assuming I'd just had a minor stomach flu. "Corinne, darling, are you alright?" Brielle cooed, her eyes glinting with victory. "Arlo and I just got the most wonderful news. Our little one is doing so well." He never even looked back at me. I saw the truth then: I was invisible to him, and so was our child. His world was built on power and lies, and there was no place for us in it. So I fled. I took our baby and disappeared to Chile, building a new life among the stars, far from his suffocating shadow. I thought I had finally escaped. Years later, after a catastrophic earthquake, he found me. Bruised, broken, and desperate, he begged for forgiveness. "I didn't know," he pleaded. I looked at the man who had shattered my world and held our child closer. "You didn't care to know," I said, my voice as cold as the space between galaxies. "And now, you've lost everything."

Choose,Your Wife Or Your Childhood Sweetheart

Choose,Your Wife Or Your Childhood Sweetheart

Romance

5.0

I remembered the day Liam Hayes proposed, his eyes full of sincerity, promising to love me more than life itself. Three years later, that world collapsed around me in a damp, abandoned warehouse. "Choose, Liam. Your wife or your childhood sweetheart," the man with the gun said, his voice flat and bored. Liam stood, caught between me, tied to a chair, and a weeping Olivia White. I watched silently as he untied Olivia, his whispered "I'm sorry" a physical blow. He walked her out, his back to me, leaving me bound. Just as tears broke through my carefully maintained calm, the kidnapper cut my ropes, telling me he wasn't a murderer, just a man who believed in consequences. He looked me in the eye. "For what it's worth, he's an idiot." My heart was a hollow, aching void. I had survived, but what was left? My husband had walked away, choosing another. Then, the police swarmed in, and Liam was there, rushing back, pulling me into a suffocating embrace. He said he was sorry, that he was here. But I felt nothing. I woke in a hospital, Olivia by my side, Liam fussing over her. He even blamed me for being out late. The final blow came when I found out Olivia was pregnant with his child, after years of my own struggles with infertility, and his mother shrieked that I was "barren." The injustice was a cold, hard knot in my stomach. How could love turn into this betrayal? Why was I, his wife, continually abandoned for a shadow from his past? Was this all a twisted joke? Then, the ultimate cosmic joke: I discovered I was pregnant with Liam's child. I confronted him, giving him a final, brutal choice: "My baby, or her baby. You can only have one." He chose her. I walked away, no longer needing anything from him, ready to build a life free from his choices and his chaos.

You'll also like

Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge

Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge

Xiao Hong Mao
5.0

I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband’s aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason’s coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go. The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason’s mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside. The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal. I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate. But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone. "Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands." The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I’m starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak.

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

Clara Bennett
5.0

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book