All Chapters of Beyond A Substitute: Chapter 121 - Chapter 128

The SUV glided through the empty city streets, the engine humming low under Malik’s skilled hands. The adrenaline from the escape still clung to the cabin like a second skin—everyone felt it. The air inside was thick. Dense with unsaid things. Devon sat quietly beside Katherine in the back seat, occasionally glancing at Kingsley, who was slouched between them. Kingsley’s head leaned against the window, eyes half-closed, the faint city lights flickering across his pale face. His body was safe now, but his mind? Still inside that room. Still behind that door labeled 4B. What they did to him. He hadn’t said much since they drove off. But the silence didn’t last. Devon cleared his throat gently. “So… we’re going back to the apartment in Manhattan, right? Safer there. Katherine turned to him and shook her head softly. “No. We’re not going to the apartment.” Devon raised a brow. Kingsley stirred. “We’re taking him to his parents’ place,” Katherine said. The words sliced

Michael glanced up from the glass of water in his hand as Jordan walked into the living room with Beth trailing closely behind him. His eyes sharpened immediately—not with emotion, but with precision, the way a veteran surgeon might study an X-ray or a flaw in an otherwise pristine diamond. He didn’t blink. His gaze lingered—too long, too still—on Jordan’s face, then dropped to the man’s gait, the curve of his shoulders, the quiet tension in his jaw. Jordan forced a nod that barely looked rehearsed. “Dad.” Michael’s brow twitched faintly. He didn’t answer right away. He took a slow sip from the glass before replying in a tone that was deceptively warm. “Kingsley.” Silence stretched between them like a taut wire. Beth stepped forward quickly, inserting herself between the crackling air with a breezy laugh that sounded like it had been pulled from a fashion ad. “He’s just tired. We were up late last night reviewing the West Coast expansion—so many deadlines! He’s completely obse

Six weeks had passed. Three long, surreal weeks since everything unraveled. Since her carefully constructed version of life—marriage, image, power—crumbled at her feet like a fragile tower made of sand. This morning, Beth sat at her vanity table for the last time in the Rowe mansion, staring at her reflection in silence. The morning light filtered in through the grand windows, casting a pale glow across the marble floors. The room was still—the quiet kind of still that came before endings. Her fingers hovered over her phone before she finally opened the app. Start Live Video. She inhaled deeply, lifting her chin with practiced poise as the camera lit up and the hearts and waves of notifications began to pour in. Within seconds, her comment section flooded like a tidal wave of chaos. “My favorite couple 😢” “What happened?!” “Beth, if Kingsley isn’t the problem… is it YOU?” “Wait, did you cheat?” “Say something, please!!” “I can’t believe in love anymore.” “I wa

The morning sun painted Brooklyn in a warm, golden hue, casting long rays through the windows of Katherine and Carolina’s apartments for the last time. The sound of a truck engine rumbled through the street as one large moving truck parked in front of their building. Mover men were already at work—hauling boxes, carefully rolling up rugs, and disassembling furniture. Katherine stood on the sidewalk in her favorite faded jeans and a loose blouse, her hair tied in a messy bun, stood by the curb in a simple, soft beige sweater and dark jeans, watching movers carry out her belongings from the apartment she had once rebuilt her life in. But there was a twist — the furniture wasn’t going with her. Every luxe item Kingsley had surprised her with— A luxurious velvet sofa in a rich moss green, its cushions plump and regal. A soft cream throw was draped over one arm. The coffee table—once a chipped slab of pine she rescued off Craigslist—had been replaced by a gleaming marble-topped centerpie