The Stand-In Wife's Spectacular Comeback

Chapter 6

Word Count: 693 | Released on: Today at 18:07

y sat on the white leather sofa in the estate's living room. He

tone was dripping with corporate condescension. "Due to your breach of the fid

osite him, her

to sign this Non-Disclosure Agreement. You will not speak to the press about his famil

ross the table. "Sign it. Don

ed to the NDA and the severance clause, pressed the pen down hard,

u doing? If you refuse this, Mr. Lynch wil

t her phone and dialed Evert's

Evert's cold voice ech

said, her voice steady and loud. "But I

ting a million dollars? You have no skills, Clarine

econd as your pathetic stand-in," Clarine f

ne wen

ck to his office when her mocking tone over the phone finally registered, snapping his last thread of restraint. No one hung up on

d high, her eyes defiant. It infuriate

dered, slamming his hand on the tabl

voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "And tomorrow, the front page of the T

stunned. The submissive, quiet woman he m

ving room, clutching a designer handbag. She took one look at th

himpered, batting her eyelashes. "Just take the

them. She felt nothing but pu

clean divorce decree-the one that stated she left with z

chest. The sharp edge of the thick paper dragged against h

use," Clarine said, her voice ringing with fi

n him and walked towa

signature. She really didn't ask for a single penny. A sudden

arm. "Evert, let h

erking his arm away. He didn't look at Cheri

Chapter End

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The Stand-In Wife's Spectacular Comeback

Julian Reid Billionaires

“For three years, I was nothing but a ghost in my marriage, a pathetic stand-in forced to dress exactly like my billionaire husband's dead fiancée. On our third anniversary, he left me to face armed intruders in our remote estate alone. When I called him begging for help, he mocked me for faking a home invasion for attention and hung up to comfort his mistress. The nightmare only got worse. The next night, my stepmother and half-sister drugged me at a family gala, trying to ruin me by handing me over to a sleazy producer. I escaped into a pitch-black hotel suite, only to be overpowered by a drugged stranger in the dark. Traumatized and covered in bruises, I secretly took an emergency contraceptive pill. When my husband found the crumpled receipt on the floor, he didn't ask if I was hurt or where the violent marks on my neck came from. "You cheap whore. You broke the loyalty contract." He drafted the divorce papers immediately, stripping me of every penny, and ordered me thrown onto the street. He thought without his wealth, I wouldn't survive a day in New York and would come crawling back to him like a dog. I didn't shed a single tear. I calmly signed the papers, dropped my diamond ring on his glass table, and walked out. What my arrogant ex-husband didn't know was that before I became his obedient shadow, I was "Lan"-the legendary, anonymous fashion designer the entire world was desperately looking for. Now, I was taking back my empire.”