All Chapters of The Substitute Bride's Revenge : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

ARIAThe morning sun streams through the blinds, painting long shadows across my apartment floor.I sit on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling through the endless cancellations and rejections. My calendar once packed with meetings, events, and plans, now stretches before me like a barren wasteland.A sharp knock at the door jolts me. I’m surprised because no one knocks anymore.I open it and am taken aback to find Michael standing there. His usually crisp suit is wrinkled, his tie slightly askew. It's the first time I've ever seen him anything less than perfectly put together."I resigned this morning," he announces, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation."You what?" I stare at him, stunned."I quit. From Harrington." He runs a hand through his hair, looking more frazzled than I've ever seen him. "They wanted me to sign an affidavit saying I saw you sharing confidential information with competitors."My stomach drops. "But you never saw anything like that.""Of course not,

ARIAA disbelieving smile curves my lips. "I don't know what 'records' you're referring to, but accessing someone's private medical information without consent is illegal," I reply evenly. "And mental health treatment is not evidence of instability… it's evidence of responsible self-care. But more importantly, this question perfectly illustrates the tactics I'm describing today: attempting to discredit me by violating my privacy and stigmatizing mental health care."Michael gives me an approving nod.I notice the reporter smirking slightly as he sits down. Mission accomplished. He's planted the seed of doubt.A woman from Entertainment Weekly stands next. "Sources close to Xavier claim you were obsessed with his wealth and status from the beginning and pursued him a charity event. How do you respond to that?"I recognize her. Aurora Kent, known for her close relationship with Vivian. They've been photographed at the same social events for years."I met Xavier when I was forced to take

ARIAI receive a lawsuit three days after my press conference. Harrington Consolidated is suing me for defamation, breach of confidentiality, corporate espionage, and theft of proprietary information.The damages sought total $75 million.The media frenzy intensifies. News vans camp outside my apartment building. Strangers approach me on the street—some offering support, others hurling abuse.A brick shatters my living room window with a note attached: "LIAR."Michael arrives at my apartment that evening to find me sitting among the broken glass, staring at nothing.His own appearance has changed dramatically in just days. Dark circles under his eyes, hair disheveled, shoulders hunched as if carrying an invisible weight."This was a mistake," I whisper as he carefully sweeps up the shards. "I thought the truth would matter. I thought if people just saw the evidence...""The truth does matter," Michael insists, kneeling before me. "But we're fighting against people who have spent decad

ARIADr. Winters takes one look at me and switches into doctor mode faster than I can blink."How long has this headache lasted?" she asks, already guiding me to a chair."About two hours," I mumble.My tongue feels weirdly heavy, like I've been shot with novocaine.She shines a penlight in my eyes, making me wince. "Pupils slightly uneven. Any nausea? Visual stuff?""Both," I admit. "Everything's blurry around the edges. And sometimes there are these... floating spots."Her hands are cool on my skin as she checks my pulse, blood pressure, temperature. Nothing feels rushed, but there's an efficiency to her movements that's both comforting and terrifying."I'm moving your appointment to tonight.” Her tone leaves no room for argument. "My colleague in neurology can see you at seven."Michael hovers nearby, trying to look calm but failing miserably. I catch him exchanging worried glances with Dr. Winters when they think I'm not looking.We arrive at Dr. Patel, the neurologist on time. Sh

ARIAThe words make my thnking malfunction.I stare at him, waiting for my brain to process what he just said."That's impossible!" I finally manage. "There must be a mistake.""We've run the tests three times.” His tone shifts to that talking-to-a-difficult-child voice doctors sometimes use. "The results are conclusive."The social worker leans in. "This must be shocking news, but there are really good support groups for newly diagnosed people. Treatment options have come a long way."The administrator clears her throat. "I should go over our hospital policies for patients with communicable conditions. There are certain protocols—""Stop!" I cut her off, my brain finally kicking into gear. "This diagnosis is impossible. I've never been in an intimate relationship with anyone. Plus, I was tested six months ago during my annual physical and it was negative. Nothing has changed since then."Dr. Kapoor's face changes. "Sometimes patients aren't aware of all their exposure risks. HIV can