All Chapters of My Statue Husband: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

VIVIAN POVThe neon sign across the street flickered through the rain-streaked window of the studio, casting a low, rhythmic pulse of amber light over the cutting table. It was three in the morning. My eyes burned, raw and strained from hours under the stark white fluorescence, but my hands didn't shake. They couldn't.I smoothed a line of hand-dyed ivory silk across the mannequin’s torso, my thumb tracing the edge of the seams. This was it. The crown jewel of the Celestial Dawn collection—a line meant to anchor my career at the House of Raymond, meant to prove that five years of working sixteen-hour days as an underpaid associate hadn't bled me dry. It was meant to make me a lead designer."If you stare at that bodice any harder, Vivian, you’re going to burn a hole right through the chiffon."I didn't turn around, but the tension in my shoulders eased just a fraction at the sound of Zara’s voice. She stepped out from the shadowy back kitchen, holding two steaming paper cups. She smel

VIVIAN POVThe morning light did not feel like a new beginning; it felt like a cold, merciless spotlight.I didn't sleep. I couldn't. I spent four hours sitting on the edge of my bathtub, shivering under a dry towel, watching the sky turn from deep indigo to a sickly, bruised gray. My eyes were raw, swollen shut from tears that had eventually burned out into a dull, hollow ache. My phone was dead—drowned in the alley puddle—and my body felt like a bruised shell held together by sheer, desperate denial.A tiny, foolish part of my brain—the naive girl who still wanted to believe in people—kept telling me it was all a terrible dream. Maybe Zara was testing me. Maybe Leo would call my apartment landline and say he’s sorry, that it was a sick joke.By eight in the morning, I was standing in the lobby of the House of Raymond.The glass doors of the towering skyscraper sucked me in, the ambient warmth and faint scent of expensive white lilies washing over my damp coat. Surrounding me were pe

VIVIAN POVThe words felt like a heavy blow to my chest, stealing what little air I had left. Criminal charges."Read the document, Miss Vivian," Mr. Kelvin said, his voice as dry and sharp as folding parchment. "Attempted grand larceny of proprietary corporate designs, deliberate sabotage of company cloud infrastructure, and fraud. The House of Raymond will be seeking full restitution for the security breach—and a permanent injunction preventing you from working within the fashion industry for the next ten years."The room spun. Ten years. They weren't just kicking me out into the street; they were putting an iron collar around my neck and throwing the key into the ocean."Meeting adjourned," Director Raymond declared smoothly, adjusting his cufflinks as the board members began standing, gathering their sleek leather portfolios and laughing softly among themselves.The security guards let go of my arms, stepping back as if I were a carcass left to rot on the floor. I didn't move. I c

VIVIAN POVThe rain hit the concrete with a relentless, hollow thrum, bouncing off the wet stone plaza and stinging my face like a thousand tiny needles. My knees ached where they had slammed into the ground, the blood from my torn stockings mixing with the murky puddle beneath me.I sat there among the debris of my past five years. A cardboard box soaked through at the bottom, a handful of wooden drawing pencils floating away down the gutter, and a damp notebook whose ink was already running into dark, illegible blurs.The heavy glass doors of the headquarters hissed open again.I forced myself up onto my feet, my body stiff and cold, holding onto a nearby concrete pillar for support. A tiny, foolish spark of hope—pathetic and embarrassing—flared up in my chest. Did someone say something? Did Maria speak up? Did Director Raymond realize?It wasn't Raymond. It was Leo.He stepped out under the grand glass overhang, holding a black umbrella. He looked completely immaculate. Not a drop

VIVIAN POVThe world spun into a chaotic blur of screaming rubber, flashing red taillights, and the black expanse of the ocean below.I slammed my foot onto the brake pedal, locking my hands onto the steering wheel as my beat-up hatchback skidded across the rain-slicked asphalt. The headlights swept wildly over the wooden guardrail, illuminating the sheer, terrifying drop to the jagged rocks below, before whipping back toward the middle of the highway.Brace.I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the bone-shattering crunch of metal on metal. The car shrieked in protest, its rear end stepping out in a violent slide, misstepping the massive object by mere inches. The passenger-side mirror clipped the corner of the wooden crate with a loud, sickening crack, shattering glass across the wet hood before the car finally spun to a halt, stalled sideways across the double yellow lines.The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the frantic click-click-click of my hazards and the st