All Chapters of The Billionaire's Substitute Bride : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

SARA I stepped out of the sleek-black Maserati like I owned the pavement. I didn’t pause to smooth my skirt or flick my hair into place. There wasn’t time for vanity—not today. My heels clicked with sharp purpose as I scanned the block, ignoring the stares I drew. I didn’t have time for onlookers or pitying glances. My eyes found the sign—La Rosea Brasserie— That was the name. Perfect.Discreet and expensive. The kind of place politicians whispered in. But I didn't care…It was the perfect place to sign a contract. I stepped in through its arched double doors and let the cool air wrap around me. The walls were lined with wine from a century I didn’t care to remember. The place was dressed in gold and dark mahogany, with crystal chandeliers dripping light onto expensive china. Waiters in suits better tailored than most grooms I’d dated. But none of that mattered to me. I didn’t care about any of it.I was hunting. I wasn’t here for the food or the ambiance. I was here to end Ricci Rus

MABEL I stood by the sidewalk near the Stamford bus stop—the one where you usually wait if someone’s visiting from New York—hugging my coat tighter with every passing minute.I’d been waiting for her.Sophia.She told me she’d be arriving by dawn.I called. Once. Twice. Seven times.No answer.Nothing but my own voice hitting voicemail and bouncing back at me.Something didn’t feel right. My stomach had been doing that thing it does when dread crawls in slow, like water under a closed door.Then I heard sirens. First one. Then another. Racing down the street like angry gods. Police cars flashing past—going one way, then doubling back. And then...An ambulance.My heart skipped.Voom! It passed again I don’t know what made me do it—but I followed. My car had barely enough gas, my phone was almost dead, and I hadn’t even eaten all day, but none of it mattered.I followed them all the way to Unity Hospital. Something told me—she was there.I parked sloppily. Ran inside without thinking

RICCI I was escorted to a side room. A concrete box with two chairs and no windows.I sat alone.I could have sworn I was thinking of Aunt Laurel when … .I thought of her again.Would she believe them?Would she hate me?Could she even look at me again after this?I replayed the way she used to smile at me. The way her laughter had filled a room, light and reckless. I remembered how she’d once said I made her feel safe.And now?Now, I was just another name on the evening news.When the recess ended, I returned to the dock.The judge addressed the court.“We will now proceed with final statements.”The prosecutor rose. “Let us not forget,” she said firmly, “that these women came here today to speak truth to power. And the truth is ugly. The truth is painful. But justice demands we face it. Ricci Williams used his influence, his wealth, and his lies to prey on the vulnerable. And now, justice must speak.”Then my lawyer.“Your Honor, we will prove that the entire narrative has been fa

SOPHIA I woke up to the quiet.No machines. No beeping. No sterile lights humming overhead. Just the sound of birds outside the window and the rustle of curtains in the morning breeze.The sheets were soft—lavender-scented, warm, not like the hospital’s stiff cotton. I blinked a few times, letting my eyes adjust. It had been weeks since I was discharged, but time felt slippery. Some mornings I forgot what day it was. Some nights I didn’t sleep at all.The woman who made me tea every morning said her name was Mabel.She told me we’d known each other since we were toddlers. I used to call her “Mabe,” and apparently she used to braid my hair and steal my gummy bears. I tried to smile when she told me stories. She looked at me like someone who loved me. But I couldn’t feel it—not fully. Like hearing a lullaby in a language you no longer speak. I wanted to believe her. I really did.But memory’s a funny thing when you’ve been through... whatever it is I’ve been through. I could remember…

RICCI I woke up.Not exactly from sleep, but from something heavier. Something that doesn’t lift when your eyes open. That numb, drifting space I’ve been living in for weeks. The kind where days pass like ghosts. I bathed. Brushed my teeth. Dressed in something dark and clean.I didn’t look in the mirror.Didn’t need to.I already knew what I’d see: someone cracked down the middle. Eyes like ash. A face that used to mean something in this city but now looked like a wanted poster.I picked up my phone, grabbed my keys, and was about to turn off the TV when something caught my eye.The screen flashed red and white. BREAKING NEWS.I didn’t care at first. Probably another scandal, another politician with blood on his hands—but then I saw him.Leo.Being dragged out in cuffs, head down, and lips tight. Like a man who already knew he was fucked but still hoped someone would lie and say he wasn’t.I froze.One hand is still on the remote, the other hanging uselessly by my side. My chest did