His Placeholder Bride, My Bitter Revenge

te empire, I discovered the devastating truth. I wasn't his great love

I was a polished, "suitable" vers

ished an exposé on his company's shady dealings, he had me fired and system

y turned on

this!" my sister shrieked, caring o

ily, no future. All because I was a place

ncée, but as A. Trevino, the anonymous journalist who

e Sutton family. And this time, I w

pte

Trevin

I stood by the grand ballroom's arched window, the city lights a glittering mockery of the calm I desperately sought. This was supposed to

om Miami' s grittier side, not the polished world I knew him from. I tried to push them away, t

ucted of him, of us, was starting to crack under the weight of these anonymous tales. He was the heir to Sutton Holdings, a real estat

All conversation ceased. Heads snapped toward the commotion. A heavy, antique

cusing finger at Grant, who had been laughing with some guests just moments before. "Grant Sutton!"

of smooth charm, tightened into something I' d never

m, a dangerous calm that made the hairs on my arms stand up. "Ivory," he said, his voice low

lips. "She's in trouble, Grant! Real trouble. The kind we sw

he' d left behind, or so I thought. The woman I was supposedly

ing her out of every mess." His words were cold, but there was a flicker o

as had been ripped apart, revealing a brutal sketch underneath. The man standing ther

w you're just going to let her drown? For this?" Her gaze landed on me, a venomous dart tha

ds Ivory, his hand clamping around her arm. His grip was firm, unyielding. "This discus

rong. "She's going to get herself killed

wards the service exit. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, were now co

t keep her out of sight. And don't let anyone follow us." His gaze, sharp and fleeting,

ibs. Had he seen me? My breath

oking pale and terrified, rushed towards Grant. "Mr. Sutton! Miss Chu

pure, unadulterated terror. Without a second thought, he released Ivory and sprinted towards

ses resumed, hushed and tentative. But I was frozen. Paralyzed. A hollow

a, approached me, her brow furrowed with concern.

les in my face protesting. "I'm

e, you know. Ivory Church. Grew up in the same tough Miami

cavern of my chest. I felt like I was drowning in a s

imagine Grant in that role." She chuckled faintly, oblivious to the knife twisting in my gut. "He loved her fiercely. Saved her from some t

I repeated, the words tas

woman he knew. But she was too wild, too proud to be tied down, even to him. She just vanished one

appearing on the screen. "Look, this was years

een directed at me. He was offering a simple, silver ring to a laughing Ivory, her arms thrown around his neck, her f

deniable. A vibrant, untamed force of nature. And me? I was a carefully

"You two even have similar hair, same dark eyes. But she... she

d in my head. I stood there for what felt like hours, listening to Rebecca

an image that echoed the woman he truly loved, the one he couldn't have. He loved the parts of me that reminded him of her, molded me into a version that fit his n

hard slap to the face. Ever

e opulent ballroom in shades of pale gray, I felt utterly hollowed out. My ph

with fury. "Do you know what time it is? The wedding planner is los

my voice flat, devoid of emot

ten to me. Sutton Holdings is a goldmine. You marry Grant, and

words were calm, resolute. A quiet certa

medical bills! Think about us, Avery! You owe us this!" He

e me that," I replied, the words cutting through the e

rade, I hung up. The silence was d

ing. His arm was loosely around her waist, a familiar, protective gesture. She leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. They weren't speaking, b

fect man. I had excused his late nights, his distant glances, his occasional coldness, telling myself it was the pressure of his work, the burden of his family empire. I had ration