The Substitute Wife Novels & Stories

This was my life and I had made peace with it. That's not me being dramatic. I mean it genuinely. I was thirty-two years old, a junior partner at Hargrove and Sloane, the legal guardian of a three-year-old who drew cats on everything, and I had not been on a date since the Obama administration. But I had a routine that worked. I had a daughter, not biologically, not legally in the strictest sense, but mine in every way that mattered — and I had a job I was good at, and I had an apartment with enough counter space to actually cook, which I had learned to value more than I ever expected.

Wade mentioned wasn't as simple as he'd claimed! What were they trying to do? Make her humiliate herself on her wedding night, completely offending the Russell family? The heat waves grew increasingly fierce, threatening to devour her rationality. She forced herself through the wedding ceremony—a mockery without a groom present. The guests' glances were filled with sympathy, pity, and undisguised schadenfreude. "So this is the substitute bride? She's pretty, what a shame she'll be married to a vegetable." "I heard Rupert Russell is down to his last breath. The York family must be desperate for money to push their daughter into this hellhole."

"What is that again?" "Isn't that right Sister, that Dina is pregnant and the father is a neurosurgeon at the hospital we go to, we always see him going there. Wait! Is that Dina, the wife of Patrick cousin of Loid. That's it Sister! Another girl is hugging." “Really?! That's good, I can get my revenge on that witch. Because Carina is gone, she's the one clinging to Loid." "So, what's your plan Sister?"

No family, no background—Ryan became my whole world's only light. When he asked if I'd be his wife, I agreed without hesitation. But at night when we made love, he'd hold me while whispering a stranger's name—his deceased girlfriend, Sophie Hart. That's when I realized I was just Sophie's shadow, a substitute wife. To the outside world, Ryan Blackwood appeared the perfect, devoted husband. He looked after his ex's sister Ivy, while supposedly never letting his wife feel neglected. He promised me that whatever he gave to Ivy, I'd receive tenfold. I would always be Mrs. Blackwood.

And why the hell was it so much? She groaned softly and rolled over causing me to see her face. My heart plummeted. Whoever she was, she wasn’t Ivy, but she looked so familiar. I wanted to slap her awake and shake her till the truth fell from her mouth but managed to rein my anger in. I knew it had to be too true to be good. Ivy Weston parting her legs for me with her hymen intact could only be a joke. A joke shared by the entire family because they had to know what she was up to and sent a substitute who had managed to look convincing enough in the makeover under a dim light.

"Don't get cocky with me. You seduced him. I saw the way he looked at you this morning. It’s pathetic. Using your body because you have nothing else to offer him." I leaned back in my chair, clicking my pen. "Desmond is my husband. In case you forgot, we’ve been married for three years. It’s not seduction." "He’s mine!" she hissed, her voice cracking. "He was always supposed to be mine. You’re just the substitute. The girl who stepped in because I wasn't around to take the crown. You’re a placeholder, a warm body to keep his bed busy until I was ready to take my spot back."

Measuring. Dismissing. “So this is the girl,” she said coldly. “The one who replaced me.” Lina frowned. “I didn’t replace anyone.” “Really?” the woman smirked. “Because you’re standing exactly where I was supposed to be.” That hit. Harder than expected. Before Lina could respond— Adrian spoke. “She’s not replacing you.” The woman looked at him. Hope flickering briefly in her eyes. But his next words destroyed it. “She’s my wife.”

It seems like the marriage is not exactly what it seems to be, and maybe he doesn't really care about his wife, who has been rumored to marry into his family, despite knowing his condition just because of money - Just reading all of this made my blood boil. People didn't know the slightest thing about me, yet they kept pointing fingers at me and mocking me. Of course, this is their own way of making up stories in their head that doesn't seem right. People would always talk about other people they don't know. Even if I was a substitute, which is a secret to the family I came from, they wouldn't go out exposing it just to the media yet because they still had a lot to lose. And they will be the

Thus, Vivian could understand why Kate was telling the story in such a bitter tone and expression. "And Steen still loves his mother very much too," Kate continued despite getting no response from the younger woman. “He was the one who put this big picture of his mother in the living room. He wanted to show everyone that his mother still owned this house. That's not good for me, but that's the truth, right? Even if I marry his father, I'm only a substitute, and a substitute can never be the original." Suddenly, Vivian felt how her heart clenched behind her ribs. It was not only Kate who had the title of a substitute. Vivian was also a substitute, and it was true that a substitute could never

Sophia Carter has always been the daughter her family was proud of—the beautiful, confident heiress who was destined to marry Adrian Blackwood, the cold and powerful CEO of the Blackwood Group. But on the morning of her wedding, Sophia disappears. With the Carter family’s future hanging by a thread and the Blackwoods already waiting at the wedding venue, Lena Carter is given an impossible choice: watch her family lose everything or take her sister’s place at the altar. Lena knows she is making the biggest mistake of her life. Adrian is a man she has never met, a billionaire known for his ruthless business dealings and his complete refusal to believe in love. He expects Sophia to