Novel & Cerita He's Just A Substitute That Doesn't Matter

I reached to his desk and said in a soft voice. But he didn't raise his head and just looked at the papers and told me in a heavy voice, "Sorry Angela, I'm busy now and I think I need to complete my work tonight. So, please eat yourself and rest. I will be back after finishing my work. Don't wait for me." Hearing him, I don't know why, but I feel a little bit upset. It feels like he is making excuses. But I can see there are many files and papers and he is serious with his work but why do I suddenly feel like this?

Because I went to Sofia last night? His tone was smug, mocking, as if he’d figured out my “little game.” I slowly typed out a reply and hit send. As you said, Mr. Blackthorn. I am your subordinate, nothing more.

"What?! Are you insane? Why would that woman live with us in one house? Do you want to humiliate me?" He responded with total indifference, his words stinging like a whip: "Don’t overreact. Remember well that I am just a substitute husband in a temporary contract on paper, not a real marriage built on love. Irish has lived in my house for years; this is a natural situation and it won't change now for your sake."

“You should be, I can help you lose your job at the snap of a finger, same with the others of your kind. You think you have an opinion but you really don’t, all you can do is stand still, move about and fulfill orders… just like a robot.” The guard's face went cold and hard as he glared down at her. His brows became like two sharp swords as he took two steps towards her and seized her by her throat roughly. “You are nothing but a replacement for our original Young Madame, a cheap human who has no degree of self respect. Look at you, even the ring that was given to you was a far cheaper one of low quality.” Each word hit Cassidy heavily and it hurt but she was determined to put her in her pla

I murmured. But then he laughed, which made me stop. "Um, pardon? Is there anything I said that was incorrect?" I inquired. "Oh, no. No way, Ms. Dawson. My secretary simply forgot to mention your true purpose, and I'll be happy to provide you with all of the pertinent and even critical information you require," His response terrified me. "What exactly do you mean, sir?" "Anna is too old to remember everything. According to what I said, she completely forgot to mention that we did not call you to hire you as our model. But I'd like to negotiate a deal with you," He declared.

“He was worried about you, so he stayed up all night. He’s gone to rest now. Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?” I tried to move, but the injured arm wouldn’t lift at all. “Will my injury affect my dancing?” She shook her head immediately. “Not at all. Your ligaments and bones weren’t injured. Don’t worry.” But what if they had been? My career would have ended right there. Would Paul have felt guilty? Suddenly, I smiled. I was only a substitute. When the bullet came, he didn’t even care about my life. How could he care about this?

"The fellowship, or whatever it was." "What — no. Don't say that. It was purely based on merit. That was how we chose everyone on that list." "Then let me focus on why I am here." "But what about our son?" "There is no our son, Caleb." Her voice did not rise. That was the thing. It never rose anymore and she had noticed this about herself for a while now, this new flatness, this steadiness she had built out of necessity. "My son. Not our son. Don't come in here acting like some saint." She paused, and something moved through her that she hadn't expected. Not anger exactly. Something older. "Where is he, anyway?"

Once Celine and Will caught sight of me, they turned toward me. "I'm sorry, Dad. I was wrong. Mr. Lane isn't you. You're my father—not him," Will cried. I stared at his crying face but felt unfazed. I had given myself a second chance at life, and I wasn't going to make the same mistakes again. Now, I had my own career and someone who actually cared about me. I glanced at Ruby and flashed her a smile. "I used to think that we'll be happy as long as we're together. But now, I've realized something else. Who I spend my days with matters."

The simplicity of it stripped away his last instinct to manage the moment. “I’m scared,” he said plainly. “That if I let go too much, I’ll become irrelevant. Replaceable.” She met his gaze, steady and unflinching. “You were never replaceable to me because of what you do,” she said. “You’re replaceable to the world. Everyone is. That’s not failure. That’s reality.” He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “And the people who stay,” she added, “stay because of who you are when no one is watching.”

“Not because of your last name. Not because of whatever mess your father dragged you into.” The words landed hard. “If you disappear tomorrow,” he added, pressing the button for his floor, “nothing in this building stops functioning. Your desk will be cleared. Your access revoked. And someone else will be sitting there before lunch.” The elevator hummed as it moved. “You are replaceable,” he finished quietly. “So don’t confuse tolerance with importance.” The doors opened. He stepped out first, then paused just long enough to glance back at me. “Try not to forget that again.”