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2026-08-21 17:11:59
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Fake Death of the Stand-In Ex-Wife 18
ValeriaThe air in the guest room turned instantly suffocating, thick with a cold, metallic fear.I stood frozen beside the bed, my fingers digging into the soft cotton of my nightshirt. Eleanor’s word—Congratulations—hung in the silence between us like a drop of poison in clear water."You had me followed," I said. My voice was dangerously quiet, but the rage behind it trembled in my throat.Eleanor didn't flinch. She simply took a slow, deliberate step further into the room, the tip of her silver cane clicking sharply against the hardwood floor."Do not be dramatic, Valeria," she replied, her tone as dry and matter-of-fact as if she were discussing the estate's quarterly upkeep. "You are married to my grandson. You are living in my house, moving into guest rooms, taking off your wedding ring, and disappearing for hours at a time. Did you truly believe I would not take steps to protect this family's interest?""You hired a private investigator to track my personal medical appointment
Fake Death of the Stand-In Ex-Wife 17
ValeriaThe cold bathroom tiles pressed through the thin fabric of my nightshirt, but the chill was nothing compared to the sudden, icy dread paralyzing my chest.Tobias was still kneeling beside me. His hand, usually so distant and controlled, remained resting against the small of my back—a heavy, warm anchor that felt entirely out of place. His dark eyes searched my pale face with an intensity that made it impossible to breathe."I told you, it was just food poisoning," I rasped, leaning my head back against the edge of the vanity, trying to pull away from his touch. "I’m fine now.""You aren't fine," Tobias said firmly. His voice had lost its harsh, defensive edge from our argument upstairs; in its place was a sharp, quiet focus. "You’ve collapsed once this week, you aren't eating, and now this. I’m calling Dr. Vance.""No!" The word burst from my throat faster than I intended, high and frantic.Tobias’s brows pulled together into a tight, questioning line. "Valeria, he’s our famil
Fake Death of the Stand-In Ex-Wife 16
TobiasThe soft glow of the laptop screen illuminated the stark, clear text against the dim light of the bedroom: Southside Loft Rentals: Available October 1st.The air in the room instantly turned to ice. My throat tightened as I stared at the browser tabs—apartment floor plans, price breakdowns, estimates for short-term leases in a part of the city I had never set foot in."You were really leaving," I said. My voice was dangerously low, carrying a sharp, quiet edge that cut through the silence.Valeria didn't panic. She didn't slam the laptop shut or scramble to hide the screen. She slowly set the computer down on the mattress beside her and met my eyes, her face smooth, composed, and devastatingly calm."I need somewhere to live once we separate, Tobias," she said softly."The separation papers haven't even been signed!" I snapped, taking a long stride into the room. The cold wall of detachment I usually kept firmly in place was crumbling, replaced by a dark, volatile frustration I
Fake Death of the Stand-In Ex-Wife 15
TobiasThe cool night air was sharp after the suffocating warmth of the ballroom. I found Valeria standing alone near the stone steps of the St. Regis entrance, framed by the towering marble pillars. The wind whipped her emerald dress around her ankles and pulled stray dark wisps from her sleek high knot.She looked breathtaking. And utterly exhausted.I stepped beside her, my hands thrust deep into the pockets of my trousers. "The car is around the front," I said quietly.Valeria didn't turn her head. She just looked out at the long line of black town cars waiting along the curb, her face smooth and unreadable under the streetlights."I want to go home, Tobias," she murmured. Her voice was flat, carrying a heavy, bone-deep tiredness that made my chest tighten."Alright," I said. "We'll leave now."The drive back to the mansion was completely silent. The heavy rain from earlier had cleared, leaving the city streets wet and glistening like black oil under the amber traffic lights. Besi
Fake Death of the Stand-In Ex-Wife 14
EleanorI have lived seven decades in high society, and if there is one thing I know, it is how to read people. Fools look at faces; intelligent people watch the hands.From my vantage point near the velvet curtains of the VIP balcony, I watched my grandson’s wife. Valeria stood at the back of the ballroom, surrounded by people who tolerated her only because of the Hayes ring she used to wear.A waiter paused beside her, offering a tray of crystal flutes brimming with vintage champagne. Valeria politely shook her head, refusing the glass. A few moments later, when another server offered tiny porcelain plates of smoked salmon and caviar, I watched her throat move in a sharp, uncomfortable swallow. She turned her face away from the food, her pale cheeks taking on a faint, telltale ash-gray tone.Then came the flash of the photographer’s camera.In that split second of light, Valeria’s hand moved. It wasn't a casual drop of the wrist or a resting pose. It was a slow, instinctual, protect
Fake Death of the Stand-In Ex-Wife 13
ValeriaThe ballroom of the Grand St. Regis was bathed in soft, golden light, filtered through towering crystal chandeliers and massive floral arrangements of fresh white lilies—Serena’s favorite flowers. The heavy scent of pollen filled the air, so sweet it made a faint wave of nausea rise in the back of my throat.I walked beside Tobias, my hand resting lightly over the black wool sleeve of his tuxedo jacket. I didn't hold his hand, nor did I lean into his warmth. I simply kept pace, my head held high, the vibrant emerald silk of my dress rustling softly against my legs.The moment we entered, heads turned. The soft murmur of low conversations faltered for a fraction of a second as high-society guests nudged one another, their sharp eyes taking in the striking contrast of my bold green dress against Tobias’s classic black tailcoat."Tobias, darling," Mrs. Vale, Serena's mother, called out softly. She hurried over to us, wearing a high-necked navy gown, a delicate lace handkerchief h
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