Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Substitute Bride: Claimed by My Ex's Father: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

The corset was a cage of whalebone and silk, and it was currently crushing the air out of Julian Ashford’s lungs. "Tighter," a voice commanded from the shadows of the dressing room. Julian gripped the edge of the mahogany vanity, his knuckles turning a ghostly white against the dark wood. Behind him, the family’s longtime maid, Martha, hesitated, her hands trembling as she held the silk laces. "Master Julian," she whispered, her voice thick with a grief that mirrored his own. "Your ribs... I can hear them creaking. I can’t—" "Do it, Martha," Julian hissed through gritted teeth. His eyes, heavily rimmed with waterproof kohl and shimmering champagne shadow, caught his reflection in the mirror. For a second, he didn't recognize the creature staring back. With the wig of waist-length chestnut curls pinned perfectly into place and the professional-grade contouring masking the sharp, masculine line of his jaw, he didn't look like Julian anymore. He looked like Juliet. He looked lik

The master suite of the Sterling mansion was less of a bedroom and more of a sanctuary for a dark god. It was sprawling, minimalist, and decorated in shades of charcoal, slate, and obsidian. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, the lights of the skyline looking like fallen stars, but Julian felt as though he were trapped in a velvet-lined coffin. The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind them, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the silent room. Julian stood in the center of the plush silk rug, his hands clasped tightly in front of his lace-covered waist. The weight of the wedding gown felt like it was pulling him down into the floorboards. Without the noise of the party to distract him, every sound Julian made—the rustle of his petticoats, the frantic hitch of his breath—seemed deafening. Victor didn't look at him immediately. He walked over to a crystal decanter on the sideboard, pouring himself a finger of amber liquid. The ice clinked against the glass, a sharp, cold

Sterling Global was a monolith of steel and ego that pierced the clouds of the financial district. As Julian followed Victor through the lobby, he felt the weight of a thousand eyes. He was no longer draped in lace, but the charcoal suit Victor had chosen for him felt just as much like a uniform. He walked half a step behind Victor, his pulse thrumming in his throat. The employees bowed their heads as Victor passed, a wave of subservience following the man like a wake. "Mr. Sterling," a sleek secretary chirped, rushing forward with a tablet. "The board is waiting in Conference Room A. And your son has already arrived; he's in your office." Victor didn't slow down. "Tell the board I’ll be five minutes late. And tell my son to stay out of my chair." They reached the top floor—the executive penthouse. The walls were almost entirely glass, offering a dizzying view of the city below. Victor swiped his card, and the heavy glass doors to his private suite hissed open. Chase was there. He

The silence of the executive office was a suffocating weight. Julian stood alone in the dim light, the cool air prickling his bare skin. He looked down at the leather strap Victor had left on the floor—a symbol of the "training" that had been interrupted by chaos.His father had run.The man who had spent Julian’s entire life selling him off piece by piece had finally committed the ultimate betrayal. By stealing the marriage contract, Arthur Ashford wasn't just trying to save himself; he was leaving Julian to burn. If that contract was destroyed, Victor’s legal protection over the Ashford assets vanished—and more importantly, Julian’s protection vanished with it.I have to move, Julian thought, his mind racing. If the press finds out Julian Ashford is the one in the dress, Victor won’t just be angry. He’ll be humiliated. And a humiliated Victor Sterling is a monster.He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the ache in his muscles. He didn't put on the shirt. Instead, he grabbed Victor’s di

The executive elevator at Sterling Global didn't just carry people; it carried the weight of empires. Julian stood beside Victor, his reflection in the polished steel doors looking like a stranger. He was wearing a new suit—midnight blue, tailored so perfectly it felt like a second skin. Around his neck, hidden beneath the crisp silk tie, was the black velvet ribbon Victor had tied there the night before. It was a secret weight, a constant reminder of the man standing inches away from him. "You look pale, Julian," Victor remarked, his voice a smooth, low rumble. He didn't look at Julian, his eyes fixed on the floor numbers as they climbed. "The Sterling name is a shield, but it is also a target. If you walk into that boardroom looking like a victim, they will tear you apart." Julian tightened his grip on his leather briefcase. "I'm not a victim, Sir. Not anymore." "Prove it," Victor said as the doors slid open. The floor was chaotic. Aides were scurrying with documents, and the ai