The Substitute Wife's Silent Scream

The Substitute Wife's Silent Scream

Mo Yufei

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I was the substitute bride, the secret illegitimate daughter forced to marry the billionaire Fletcher Dillon when my perfect half-sister ran away. My life was a quiet hell of his cruelty and control. Then, my sister Aislinn came back. At a party, she pushed us both into the bay. As I struggled for air, I watched Fletcher dive in and save her, leaving me to drown. When I found out I was pregnant, he dragged me to a hospital to "get rid of the obstacle." The procedure nearly killed me. Then Aislinn framed me for theft, and Fletcher had me whipped until I bled on the marble floor. He told me my life belonged to him, that I was a toy he could break and repair as he pleased. I was nothing more than a cheap replacement for the woman he truly wanted. So when kidnappers forced him to choose between saving Aislinn or me, he sacrificed me without hesitation. As they dragged me away, I saw him comforting her, his back turned to me. This was my chance. I broke free and plunged into the ocean as a bullet grazed my skin. It was time for everyone to believe I was dead.

Chapter 1

I was the substitute bride, the secret illegitimate daughter forced to marry the billionaire Fletcher Dillon when my perfect half-sister ran away.

My life was a quiet hell of his cruelty and control. Then, my sister Aislinn came back.

At a party, she pushed us both into the bay. As I struggled for air, I watched Fletcher dive in and save her, leaving me to drown.

When I found out I was pregnant, he dragged me to a hospital to "get rid of the obstacle." The procedure nearly killed me.

Then Aislinn framed me for theft, and Fletcher had me whipped until I bled on the marble floor.

He told me my life belonged to him, that I was a toy he could break and repair as he pleased. I was nothing more than a cheap replacement for the woman he truly wanted.

So when kidnappers forced him to choose between saving Aislinn or me, he sacrificed me without hesitation. As they dragged me away, I saw him comforting her, his back turned to me. This was my chance. I broke free and plunged into the ocean as a bullet grazed my skin. It was time for everyone to believe I was dead.

Chapter 1

The old grandfather clock in the hall chimed midnight. Each chime was a hammer blow against the silence of the mansion. I slipped out of the master bedroom, my feet silent on the plush carpet. Fletcher was out, a rare moment of freedom for me.

I crept into the library, the scent of old leather and his expensive cologne thick in the air. My hand trembled as I retrieved the burner phone from behind a row of law books he never read.

I dialed the number from memory.

It picked up on the first ring.

"Evan," I whispered, my voice tight.

"Kiara. Are you okay?" His voice was calm, a steady anchor in my swirling fear. It was a voice I'd known my whole life, since we were just two scared kids in the foster system.

"I can't do this anymore," I said, the words rushing out. "He... it's getting worse. I need to get out."

There was a pause on the other end. I could picture him, sitting in his sterile office, his face serious. Evan, who had built an elite security empire from nothing, just like he'd promised he would when we were kids.

"The plan is ready," he said, his tone firm. "But it's extreme, Kiara. You know that, right? Faking your death... there's no coming back from it."

"I know." My throat was dry. "I don't want to come back. There's nothing to come back to."

To be free of Fletcher Dillon, I would pay any price. To escape this gilded cage, I would burn it to the ground with myself inside.

"The gala is in two weeks," Evan said. "That's our window. I'll have everything in place. Just hold on until then."

"Two weeks," I repeated. It felt like a lifetime.

"I'll be there," he promised. "I'll get you out."

We hung up. For a second, a wave of relief washed over me. Hope was a dangerous thing in this house, but I allowed myself to feel it.

I carefully tucked the burner phone back into its hiding place, my fingers brushing against the worn spine of a book. My escape. My future.

I turned to leave, and my heart stopped.

Fletcher was leaning against the doorframe, watching me. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his tie loosened. He must have just gotten home.

I had no idea how long he'd been standing there.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked. His voice was soft, almost gentle, which was always more terrifying than when he yelled.

My blood ran cold. My mind raced, searching for a lie. My heart hammered against my ribs, so loud I was sure he could hear it.

"Just an old friend," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "From the foster home."

"A friend?" He pushed off the doorframe and walked slowly toward me. His eyes, the color of cold steel, scanned my face, searching for the truth. "You're a terrible liar, Kiara."

I tried to back away, but my legs wouldn't move. I was frozen.

"Don't I give you everything you need?" he continued, his voice dropping lower. "Why would you need to talk to anyone else?"

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my gaze fixed on the floor. It was the only answer that ever seemed to placate him, even for a moment.

He stopped in front of me, so close I could feel the heat coming off his body. He lifted a hand and tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"Let me see," he murmured.

He brushed his thumb over a faint bruise on my cheek, a small, dark mark he'd left there two nights ago. His touch was light, almost a caress.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked. The question was a twisted form of care, a reminder that he was the source of my pain and the only one who could pretend to soothe it.

I refused to answer, my jaw tight. Giving him the satisfaction would only make it worse.

He sighed, his fingers tightening on my jaw. He pressed me back against the bookshelf, the hard spines of the books digging into my back. "I asked you a question."

The pressure was immense. The pain in my jaw flared. I couldn't fight him, not physically. I had learned that long ago.

A tear escaped my eye and slid down my temple. "Yes," I choked out.

"Good." A small, satisfied smile touched his lips. He leaned in, his mouth next to my ear. "Don't ever lie to me again. And don't think for a second you can leave me. You belong to me, Kiara. You are my wife."

He knew. He must have overheard something. The panic was a living thing inside me, clawing at my throat.

He pulled back, his eyes dark and possessive. He looked me over, a slow, appraising glance that made my skin crawl.

"Now, go to bed," he commanded. "Aislinn is coming home tomorrow. I expect you to be on your best behavior."

Aislinn. My half-sister. The perfect, beloved daughter of the Norton dynasty. The woman he was supposed to marry.

The woman I was forced to replace.

The memory hit me with the force of a physical blow. The day men in black suits came to my tiny apartment and told me I wasn't just Kiara, an orphan and a struggling artist. I was Kiara Norton, the illegitimate daughter of one of the most powerful men in the country.

I had been a secret, a shame to be hidden away. Until they needed me.

Aislinn, the golden child, had run off, refusing to go through with the arranged marriage to tech billionaire Fletcher Dillon. A marriage that was meant to seal a multi-billion-dollar corporate merger.

So they came for me. The spare part. The substitute.

My father, a man I'd never met, had looked at me with cold, calculating eyes. "You will marry him in her place," he'd said. It wasn't a request. It was a command. "It's the least you can do for this family."

For a fleeting moment, I had hoped. Hoped for a family, for a place to belong.

That hope died the moment I met Fletcher Dillon. He looked at me with such contempt, such undisguised disgust. I was not the prize he had been promised. I was a cheap imitation, and he would make me pay for it every single day.

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I thought marrying Noah Harrison was my fairytale. He gave up everything for me – his family, his fortune. He said, "You're all that matters." Then his older brother died, and Noah became the sole heir. His family dragged him back, and I watched as he was molded into a stranger. A stranger whose intimacy was now shared with his widowed sister-in-law, Olivia, in the library, whispers of an heir filling the air. His mother, Mrs. Harrison, began my "training," each lesson a cut, reminding me of my "humble origins." When I found myself pregnant, a secret joy amidst the cruelty, I thought it would save us. I was so wrong. I overheard Mrs. Harrison whisper, "A child from her would be a stain on the family line. We must handle it." After a forced cup of tea, I miscarried violently in a cold hospital room. Then, a chilling clarity broke through my medicated haze. I heard the doctors, talking to Noah outside my room. "A hysterectomy is the only way to prevent future complications." Noah' s voice was firm, "Do it. Whatever it takes to protect her." I believed him. But then I found his locked journal. The pages laid out a truth colder than ice: the miscarriage was orchestrated, the surgery was not to save my life, but to ensure I could never bear a child, never challenge Olivia's secret pregnancy. He had ordered the removal of my uterus to secure his inheritance, to keep me a barren, placid wife. The man who sacrificed everything for me had sacrificed me for everything. The naive girl was gone. Now, only escape remained. I would fake my own death, and it would be spectacular.

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