The Billionaire's Lethal Substitute Wife

Harley moved quickly. She grabbed the heavy wooden crates scattered around the room and dragged them to the wall, directly under the air vent. The wood scraped harshly against the concrete.

With every crate she lifted, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through her left leg, echoing the trauma of the car crash. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the sweat forming on her forehead.

She stacked three crates on top of each other, creating a shaky, unstable staircase. She pressed her weight onto the bottom box. It creaked loudly but held.

Harley turned around. The little boy was still huddled in the corner, watching her every move.

She walked over to him and dropped to one knee. She held out her hand. "Come here," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "I need you to be brave right now."

Leo stared at her hand. He bit his lower lip again. Then, he looked up into Harley's eyes. He saw no pity, no anger-just a fierce determination. Slowly, his tiny, trembling hand reached out and grabbed her fingers.

Harley pulled him into her arms and stood up. The heat radiating off his small body was terrifying. He felt like a furnace.

She walked to the crates and stepped onto the first one. The wood groaned under their combined weight. Leo whimpered, burying his face into Harley's neck. His small arms wrapped tightly around her throat.

"Don't look down," Harley whispered.

She stepped up to the second crate, then the third. She was now standing precariously near the ceiling. She balanced Leo on her left hip, holding him tight with one arm.

With her right hand, she reached up and grabbed the rusted metal louvers of the vent grate. She pulled hard. The rust cracked, and the grate popped off, falling to the floor below with a loud crash.

A dark, narrow, dust-filled tunnel lay ahead.

"Okay, buddy," Harley said, lifting Leo up toward the opening. "You go first. Crawl inside. I'm right behind you."

Leo grabbed the edge of the metal duct and pulled himself in. He turned around, lying on his stomach in the dust. He reached his small hand back out, trying to grab Harley's fingers to pull her up.

Harley bent her knees, preparing to jump and grab the ledge.

CRACK.

The bottom wooden crate splintered and gave way. The entire stack collapsed instantly.

Gravity yanked Harley downward.

"No!" Harley gasped.

She threw both hands up and blindly grabbed the sharp metal lip of the ventilation duct. Her body slammed hard against the wall, her legs dangling in the air.

The sudden, violent jerk ripped through her left shoulder-the exact shoulder that had been crushed in the rollover accident five years ago.

A blinding, white-hot agony exploded in her joint. Harley let out a choked scream. Her vision went black at the edges. Her fingers started to slip on the dusty metal.

Inside the duct, Leo let out a panicked cry. He scrambled forward and grabbed the collar of Harley's sports bra with his tiny fists, trying desperately to hold her up.

Harley heard his cry. In that split second, her mind flashed back to the wreckage of her Ford sedan. The smell of blood. The absolute, crushing loneliness of waiting to die in the rain, knowing no one was coming to save her.

Not again, she thought. I am not dying in the dark.

A feral growl ripped from Harley's throat. She ignored the tearing sensation in her shoulder. Using every ounce of core strength she had developed as a stunt double, she swung her legs up, kicked against the wall, and violently hauled her torso over the metal ledge.

She tumbled forward into the duct, gasping for air.

The sharp, unfinished edge of the metal sliced deeply across her exposed stomach and waist. Warm blood instantly welled up, sliding down her skin.

Harley lay on her back in the cramped space, her chest heaving. She didn't look at the cut. She rolled over and pulled Leo close to her chest.

The dust in the duct was thick. Leo started to cough, a harsh, rattling sound.

Harley immediately pulled off the thin cotton t-shirt she wore under her sports bra. She wrapped it gently around Leo's nose and mouth. "Keep this on," she ordered softly.

She began to crawl forward on her elbows and knees. The metal was freezing. Every movement pulled at the fresh cut on her waist and the torn muscles in her shoulder.

They crawled in total darkness for what felt like hours, though it was only ten minutes. Finally, a faint, dirty yellow light appeared ahead.

They reached the end of the duct. It opened up over the alley behind the club, directly above the dumpsters.

Harley kicked the thin wire mesh covering the exit. It popped out easily. She stuck her head out. The drop was about two meters.

She pulled Leo out of the duct and held him against her chest. "Hold on tight," she whispered.

Harley took a deep breath and pushed herself out of the hole.

They fell through the air. Harley twisted her body mid-fall, ensuring her back faced the ground. She slammed hard into a pile of black trash bags filled with rotting food and cardboard.

The impact knocked the wind completely out of her lungs. Her internal organs felt like they had been violently shaken. She let out a low, painful groan.

Leo rolled off her chest, landing safely on a soft bag. He wasn't hurt.

He scrambled to his knees and looked at Harley. She was lying flat on the garbage, her face deathly pale, her waist covered in blood, her skin smeared with black dust.

Tears welled up in Leo's large eyes. He reached out his small, trembling hand. With the sleeve of his expensive suit, he clumsily wiped the dirty sweat from Harley's forehead.

Harley felt the soft touch. She opened her heavy eyelids and looked at the boy. The corners of her mouth twitched upward into a weak, exhausted smile.

"You're safe now," she whispered.

The adrenaline finally crashed. The pain from her shoulder, her bleeding waist, and her old leg injury hit her brain all at once. The world tilted sideways.

Harley raised a shaking finger and pointed toward the end of the alley. "Go... find help."

Her hand dropped to the trash bags. Her eyes rolled back, and the dark alley faded into absolute blackness.