My Husband Stole My Voice for His Pop-Star Mistress Novel Cover

My Husband Stole My Voice for His Pop-Star Mistress

7.2 / 10.0
Ghost-composer Lyra Vance built Julian Cross’s music empire, only to be imprisoned and silenced by him. After Julian destroys her vocal cords and causes her sister's death, a mute Lyra crafts a final symphony embedded with a digital payload designed to broadcast his crimes and ruin him.
My Husband Stole My Voice for His Pop-Star Mistress Summary
As the secret genius behind Aura Records, Lyra Vance built Julian Cross’s empire through her ghost-singing. To secure a massive merger, Julian imprisons Lyra and destroys her vocal cords to protect his tone-deaf mistress. Now mute and mourning her sister’s death, Lyra is coerced into composing for her rival. Unbeknownst to Julian, her latest symphony hides a digital payload that will broadcast his atrocities and incinerate his entire world.
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My Husband Stole My Voice for His Pop-Star Mistress Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The underground recording studio was a marvel of acoustic engineering, a windowless sanctuary buried deep beneath the glittering glass tower of Aura Records. For the past three years, it had been Lyra Vance’s entire world.

Seated at the center of a massive, glowing mixing console, Lyra adjusted the sliders with practiced precision. On the main monitor, complex audio waveforms danced in vibrant colors, responding to the psychoacoustic algorithms she had spent years perfecting. She leaned into the high-end studio microphone, closing her eyes as she let out a soaring, impossibly complex vocal run.

Her voice was a force of nature—rich, emotive, and flawlessly pitched. But as the sound filtered through the master channel, the software did its dark magic. The raw, soulful timbre of Lyra’s voice was instantly stripped and modulated, digitally altered to match the lighter, breathier, and far less capable vocal signature of Aura Records’ biggest asset.

Sienna Blake.

Lyra opened her eyes and exhaled, hitting the spacebar to stop the playback. The modulated track echoed perfectly through the soundproof room. It was a guaranteed platinum hit. It was also a lie.

"Another masterpiece, Mrs. Cross," Lyra whispered to herself, a tired but affectionate smile touching her lips as she rubbed her left hand. The diamond wedding ring on her finger caught the soft blue light of the monitors. She and Julian had kept their marriage a fiercely guarded secret to protect his image as the music industry's most eligible billionaire bachelor, but she didn't mind. She was the genius in the shadows; he was the king on the throne. They were a team.

The heavy, steel-reinforced door of the studio suddenly clicked, the pneumatic seal hissing as it swung open.

Lyra spun her chair around, her face brightening. "Julian! You're just in time. I finally cracked the bridge for the lead single. The frequency modulation is completely seamless now. Sienna won't even have to try to lip-sync, the neural-mapping will—"

The words died in her throat.

Julian Cross stepped into the studio. At twenty-nine, the CEO of Aura Records possessed a ruthless, sharp-angled handsome face that belonged on magazine covers, paired with cold, calculating gray eyes. He was dressed in a bespoke charcoal suit, looking every inch the corporate titan.

But he wasn't alone.

Clinging to his arm, wearing a skin-tight scarlet designer dress and oversized sunglasses despite being indoors, was Sienna Blake.

Lyra’s smile vanished. She stood up, her protective instincts flaring. This studio was highly classified. No one, absolutely no one, was allowed down here except Julian. If Sienna saw the modulation software, the illusion would be shattered.

"Julian?" Lyra asked, her voice tight. "What is she doing here? The vocal mapping is open on the monitors. If she sees—"

"I already know, sweetheart," Sienna interrupted, slipping her sunglasses down her nose to reveal a pair of spiteful, heavily lined eyes. She let out a high, grating laugh. "You really think Julian keeps secrets from me?"

Lyra froze, her gaze darting from the pop star to her husband. "Julian, what is she talking about? You said Sienna believed the AI was just cleaning up her own vocal tracks. If she knows I'm ghost-singing her entire career—"

"Lyra, sit down," Julian commanded. His voice was smooth, even, and entirely devoid of the warmth he usually reserved for her when they were alone.

"I won't sit down," Lyra countered, taking a step forward. Her brilliant mind was already racing, analyzing the variables, trying to make sense of the sudden shift in his demeanor. "You brought the talent into the engineering bunker. That breaks three different non-disclosure protocols we set up. Why is she here?"

Julian casually detached himself from Sienna and walked toward the mixing desk. He looked at the glowing screens, his expression unreadable. "Horizon Media has formally agreed to the merger. It’s a four-billion-dollar deal, Lyra. It makes Aura Records a global monopoly."

"That's incredible," Lyra said, though a knot of dread was rapidly tightening in her stomach. "We did it. Just like we planned."

"No," Sienna corrected, strolling over to Lyra’s designated vocal booth and running a perfectly manicured nail along the glass. "Julian and I did it. The Horizon executives wanted a guarantee that Aura's brand was stable. They wanted a power couple. So, Julian and I are getting married."

The room seemed to tilt on its axis. Lyra stared at the pop star, certain she had misheard. She looked at Julian, waiting for him to laugh, waiting for him to kick Sienna out and explain this was some twisted PR stunt.

Julian didn't laugh. He met Lyra’s eyes with absolute, chilling calm.

"What kind of sick joke is this?" Lyra demanded, her voice rising. She held up her left hand, the diamond flashing under the studio lights. "I am your wife, Julian. We've been married for two years."

"We had a private arrangement, Lyra," Julian said smoothly, leaning against the console. "A quiet ceremony. No press, no public records, no family. It served its purpose while we built the company. But you and I both know you aren't the face of a four-billion-dollar empire."

"I am the *spine* of this empire!" Lyra shot back, her resilience surging past her shock. "Every hit song, every platinum record, every single note that has made you a billionaire came from my head and my vocal cords! Sienna is practically tone-deaf! She can't even hold a pitch in the shower!"

"Watch your mouth, you little basement rat," Sienna snarled, her vain, insecure façade cracking. She marched up to Lyra, looking her up and down with disgust. "Look at you. You're wearing sweatpants. You haven't seen sunlight in a week. You really think you belong on a red carpet next to Julian? You're a glorified piece of studio equipment."

Lyra ignored the pop star entirely, keeping her blazing eyes locked on her husband. "Julian, tell me you aren't doing this. Tell me you didn't sell me out for a corporate merger."

"I am securing our future," Julian said, his tone dripping with narcissistic justification. "You should be thanking me. I've had my legal team quietly annul our marriage. The paperwork was filed under a corporate subsidiary. As of yesterday, you and I have no legal ties. You are simply an employee of Aura Records."

Lyra felt the breath leave her lungs. "You annulled our marriage? Without my signature?"

"I own the judges in this city, Lyra. You know that," Julian replied, stepping into her personal space. He loomed over her, his controlling nature suffocating the room. "The merger requires a flawless narrative. Sienna is the undisputed queen of pop. I am the visionary CEO. Together, we are unstoppable. You are going to stay down here, keep writing the songs, keep lending her your voice, and we will all be very, very rich."

"You're out of your mind," Lyra whispered, her heartbreak instantly hardening into calculating fury. She took a step back, putting distance between herself and the monster she had blindly loved. "If you think I'm going to spend the rest of my life in a subterranean box, ghostwriting for your mistress, you are deeply mistaken."

"Mistress?" Sienna scoffed, waving a massive emerald engagement ring in Lyra’s face. "I'm the fiancée, honey. You're the dirty little secret he's burying."

"Shut up, Sienna," Lyra snapped, her voice cracking like a whip. She looked right at Julian. "I quit. I'm taking my hard drives, I'm taking my master tracks, and I am walking out that door. And tomorrow morning, I'm calling a press conference to demonstrate exactly how Aura Records faked the career of the decade."

Julian’s eyes darkened. The calm facade dropped, revealing the profound, paranoid insecurity that had always lurked beneath his tailored suits. He knew he was a fraud. He knew his entire empire rested on the vocal cords of the woman standing in front of him.

"You aren't going anywhere," Julian said softly.

"Watch me," Lyra challenged. She reached for the master hard drive plugged into the console.

Before her fingers could graze the metal, Julian lunged. His hand clamped around her left wrist with bone-crushing force. Lyra gasped in pain, trying to pull away, but Julian was far stronger.

"Julian, let go of me!" she cried, struggling against his grip.

"You are a liability, Lyra," Julian hissed, his fingers digging into her skin. With his free hand, he grabbed her wedding ring.

"No! Don't you dare!" Lyra screamed, twisting her body.

Julian yanked violently. The diamond ring scraped over her knuckle, tearing the skin, and came free. Lyra stumbled backward, clutching her bruised and bleeding hand to her chest.

Julian held the ring up to the light, his expression entirely devoid of remorse. "This belongs to Aura Records now. Just like everything else in this room." He slipped the ring into his pocket and adjusted his suit jacket. "Sienna, we're leaving. The PR team is waiting."

Sienna smirked, linking her arm through Julian's. "Bye, Lyra. Make sure the new track is mixed by tomorrow. I have a listening party to host."

"Julian, you can't do this!" Lyra shouted, her voice echoing off the acoustic panels as they turned their backs on her. "I built you! I can destroy you!"

"You're a ghost, Lyra," Julian said over his shoulder, not even bothering to look back. "And ghosts don't make the news. They just haunt the basement."

They walked out into the sterile white hallway. Lyra surged forward, sprinting toward the exit. "Julian!"

The heavy steel door slammed shut in her face. The pneumatic seal hissed, locking into place with a heavy, metallic thud.

Lyra slammed her palms against the reinforced glass of the door’s narrow window. "Julian! Open this door! Open it right now!"

On the electronic security keypad mounted beside the glass, the green 'Unlocked' light blinked out. A harsh red light took its place. The digital display screen, which usually read her name, flickered and changed.

Lyra stared at the glowing red letters, her blood running cold.

*Access Denied: Ghostwriter Mode Activated.*

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My Husband Stole My Voice for His Pop-Star Mistress of Contents

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