All Chapters of The Billionaire's Substitute Bride: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Amelia's POVThe mansion became a fortress overnight.Guards patrolled the grounds in shifts. Security cameras covered every angle. Motion sensors on every window. Reinforced doors. Panic buttons in every room.I couldn't leave without a security team. Couldn't take a walk in the garden without someone watching.It had been two weeks since Isabelle's attack, and I was going insane."You need to eat," Mrs. Cole said, setting down breakfast I didn't want."I'm not hungry.""You haven't eaten properly in days.""I'm fine."She gave me that look. The one that said she knew I was lying but wouldn't push.After she left, I stared at the food, my stomach in knots.The house phone rang. I ignored it. Probably another journalist wanting a comment about Ethan's upcoming trial.My cell phone rang next. Adrian.I hesitated, then answered."How are you holding up?" he asked."I'm trapped in my own house. How do you think?""That bad?""Worse." I moved to the window, looking out at the guards patro

Amelia's POVI woke up screaming. The nightmare had been so real. Ethan standing over me. Knife in hand. Smiling that smile I used to love.Alexander was already there, arms around me, whispering that it was okay."Just a dream," he kept saying. "Just a dream."But it didn't feel like just a dream.It felt like a warning.This was the third nightmare this week. Each one worse than the last."Maybe you should talk to someone," Alexander said gently. "A therapist.""I don't need a therapist. I need this to be over.""Amelia...""I'm fine." I pulled away, getting out of bed. "I just need coffee."I wasn't fine. We both knew it.Downstairs, Mrs. Cole took one look at me and started making breakfast without asking."You look exhausted, dear.""I am exhausted.""When's the last time you had a full night's sleep?"I couldn't remember.My phone rang. My business manager."We have a problem," she said.Of course we did."What now?""Three major retailers just cancelled their orders. No explana

Amelia's POVThree months passed faster than I expected.My Phoenix Rising collection launched to incredible reviews. Critics called it my best work yet. Bold, emotional, powerful.Orders flooded in. More than I could fill.I hired ten new people. Expanded production. Opened a second studio.Lia Hart Designs was no longer just surviving. It was thriving.But the trial loomed over everything.Two weeks away now. Then one week. Then days.Alexander and I barely slept."Are you nervous?" he asked one morning over coffee."Terrified.""Me too."At least we were honest with each other.Agent Rodriguez called with final preparations."We'll go over your testimony one more time. Make sure you're ready for cross examination.""I'm ready.""Ethan's lawyers will try to rattle you. Make you look unreliable. Emotional.""Let them try."She was quiet for a moment. "You've changed since I first met you.""How?""You're harder now. Stronger. Less afraid.""I had to be.""I know. But don't lose yours

The dress was still hanging there.I don't know why I went back to look at it. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was that hollow feeling sitting in my chest since the wedding, the one that wouldn't go away no matter how many times I told myself I was fine.The room they'd put me in after the ceremony was at the far end of the east wing. Quiet. Separate from Alexander's quarters. The message was clear even without words. This was a business arrangement. I was here, but I wasn't really here.The wedding gown hung on the back of the wardrobe door where the housekeeper had placed it after I changed. White silk, long sleeves, intricate lace at the collar. It was beautiful in the way expensive things always were. Cold and perfect and untouchable.I walked toward it slowly, running my fingers along the fabric. Something felt off.I frowned and lifted the hem, turning it over in my hands. The stitching along the inner seam was different from the rest. Older. Like someone had sewn something ins

Amelia's POV I didn't sleep.I went back to my room, got into bed, pulled the blanket up, and stared at the ceiling until the sky outside my window went from black to grey to the pale, flat white of early morning.The voice stayed with me the whole time.You should not be here.I had knocked again after she said it. Three times, slow and deliberate. Nothing. I had pressed my ear to the door and heard the faintest sound of movement, a soft shuffle, like someone stepping back, putting distance between themselves and the door. Then nothing at all.I had stood there for a long time before I finally went back to my room. But I had not stopped thinking.The voice sounded like mine. Not similar. Not close. Like mine. The same pitch, the same slightly low register, the kind of voice that always sounded a little tired even when it wasn't. And she had known I was there before I knocked.I waited two days.I was good at waiting. I had learned it the hard way, in boardrooms and pitch meetings, w