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The Billionaire's Substitute Wife Demands Divorce

The Billionaire's Substitute Wife Demands Divorce

Author: Pike
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Chapter 1 

Word Count: 634    |    Released on: 09/06/2026

ng to her skin. A thick white towel was wrapped around

the bed, whiskey swirling in his hand. Low la

slowly. Then they flicked to a specific drawer i

before her mind did. Her

Inside, a collection of nightgowns lay perfectly folded. All

r warm skin. In the mirror, a woman stared back-elegant, dark

omeone else

The ice clinked. A familiar fire had ignited in hi

ed the delicate strap on her shoulder, reverent and possess

voice low and thick. "It's the

lways was. But tonight, for the first time in

arried her to the bed, laying her

intent. His kiss tasted of whiskey and control-a combination th

air, Ellie lay wide awake. She studied the sharp line of his jaw, the

ll thing feel so profou

e'd asked once, ear

ssion. "The first time I saw you, y

heir private love story. An endearing quirk of the man

t to the living room for water. H

age. Unkno

imal impulse-made her slide

entence. The words hit lik

that blue nightgown.

he barely caught it. A chill spread from her fee

sti

pulsed in

for what?

rembling. A prank. It had to be.

cision. It had targeted the one hairline cr

t from the trash-as if erasing

artwell hadn't moved. He slept peacefully, the pic

careful not to touch him.

fully curated had just fractured

g certainty, that it went al

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The Billionaire's Substitute Wife Demands Divorce
The Billionaire's Substitute Wife Demands Divorce
“I thought I had the perfect marriage with my billionaire husband, Hartwell, who treated me like a priceless artifact, even though he had a strange obsession with me wearing only cornflower blue. That was until an anonymous text called me a "pathetic substitute" for a dead woman, and I broke into his locked attic to uncover the terrifying truth. Under a dusty sheet, I found a life-sized portrait of a woman who looked exactly like me. Her name was Georgia Freeman, his dead lover, and my entire three-year marriage was a meticulously crafted lie. When I tried to rebel by wearing a different color, Hartwell violently tore the clothes off my body in disgust. Even worse, his entire elite family knew the secret all along, secretly mocking me as a clueless stand-in used to keep a ghost's memory alive. I was nothing but a prop to them, a hollow vessel chosen to replace a dead woman, and I couldn't understand why I had to sacrifice my identity for his twisted, obsessive grief. I shredded every blue silk gown he forced me to wear and threw his million-dollar sapphire down the trash chute. "I want a tubal ligation because I will never bear a substitute child." Watching all the color drain from his suddenly terrified face, I knew the game was over, and I was going to completely destroy his perfect illusion.”