All Chapters of The Substitute Bride : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

It slid across Chloe’s eyelids, hot and insistent. She frowned, turned, and yanked the duvet over her head. Five more minutes. Ten. A lifetime. _Swish._ The curtains flew open. Light flooded the room like a judgment. Chloe groaned and burrowed deeper. _No. Too bright. Too… everything._ Clara stood frozen by the window, hand still on the velvet. She’d been ordered to wake Madam. Sir Liam’s exact words: _7:00 AM. No exceptions._ But Madam looked wrecked. Dark circles. Sweat-damp hair. Breathing too fast for sleep. Waking her felt dangerous. _Not_ waking her felt like unemployment. Clara scratched her head. “Madam…?” Her voice was barely a whisper. --- *The Dream* I was at the altar. White flowers. Music. Liam in a black tux, smiling — really smiling — and his eyes held nothing but warmth. For me. “With this ring, I thee wed,” he said, voice steady. I turned. My family. Mom. Dad. Tyler, hair combed, no beer in his hand. They were clapping. Smiling. Alive. Rose stood beside me. Bridesmaid.

Chloe couldn’t look away. The couple across from her were a painting. The woman — yellow patterned blouse, dark brown skirt, brunette waves falling past her shoulders. Green eyes. Thin lips curved in surprise. Beautiful. The man — navy shirt, black tie, black slacks — slid off his chair and onto one knee. A gold ring caught the light. Chloe’s breath hitched. She knew this scene. She’d rehearsed it in her head since she was sixteen. Fancy restaurant. Violin in the background. The love of her life looking up at her like she was the answer to every question. _“Will you marry me?”_ she read his lips. In her head, she was there. In that yellow blouse. Hands flying to her mouth. Nodding, crying. _“Yes,”_ she mouthed, tears imagined but real. _“Yes, a thousand times yes.”_ “Cute, aren’t they?” Chloe jolted. The waitress was back, smiling, setting down a fresh napkin. Chloe’s face went hot. _Busted._ She’d been staring. Dreaming. Like an idiot. _God, Chloe, your acting skills s*ck._ “Y-yes the

Liam’s eyes hadn’t left the monitor. Fourth playthrough. CCTV from Bellucci’s. Grainy. Time stamp: 11:09 AM. He watched Klaus slide into Daisy’s chair. Watched Chloe’s back go rigid. Heard her voice, sharp: _“Excuse me, I’m waiting for someone.”_ He’d laughed then. Actually laughed. A short, ugly sound in the empty office. She was a cornered kitten, hissing, claws out. No fear. Just fire. But after Klaus said his name, the audio went to hell. Muffled. Like someone dragged cotton through the mic. Lips moving, no words. Klaus leaning in. Chloe’s face — pale, then white. _They left this for me. But they cut the end. Why?_ Liam spun his chair, lit a cigarette. Inhaled deep. Blew smoke at the ceiling. The office was already a cloud chamber. One more wouldn’t kill him. His fingers found the mouse again. Play. Pause. Rewind. _What are you up to, Rivero?_ Rivero never did anything without a reason. If he wanted Chloe dead, she’d be dead. If he wanted to use her, he wouldn’t announce it with a

Chloe flew down the stairs, skipping two at a time, heart hammering like she was running from something. She wasn’t. Not exactly. The dining room was already lit. Liam sat at the head of the table, arms folded across his chest, not touching the food. She stopped at the first chair to her right and sank into it, head down. He didn’t speak at first. Just looked. From her wet hair to the yellow panda pajamas with little cartoon faces all over them. Droplets clung to the ends of her hair and hit the collar. _Why didn’t she dry it? Was she in a rush? She’ll catch a cold in this weather._ Wait. _Why am I thinking about her cold?_ He shifted in his seat and exhaled through his nose. He had to be losing it. “I heard you went outside today,” he said finally. His eyes didn’t leave her face. “I— I— uh, went to see my friend Daisy. At a nearby restaurant.” The words tumbled out. And stupidly, a part of her warmed. He noticed. He asked. That warmth died the second he spoke aga

Hera nodded, her sharp instincts reading the suspicion etched across Rivero’s young face. “Someone indeed sold us out,” she confirmed, her voice low and edged with frost. “But who?” There was no time to dwell on the betrayal. Five more armed men from the Rainbow Mafia emerged from the shadows of the tunnel, their weapons glinting menacingly. Hera moved like lightning. She raised her shotgun and dropped three of the closest threats with deadly precision, shielding Rivero with her body. The move left her exposed, but she didn’t care. A searing pain ripped through her as a bullet tore into her shoulder. Blood spurted hot and fast, soaking through her once-immaculate white long-sleeve shirt and turning it a deep, spreading crimson. She spun toward the shooter, eyes blazing with murderous rage. Ignoring the fiery agony radiating down her arm, she aimed her weapon. The dry click of an empty chamber shattered her satisfaction. Shit. I’m out. With a snarl, she tossed the useless gun as