The Substitute Wife's Secret Heir
On their third wedding anniversary, Elaina waited with an ultrasound report, ready to surprise her husband with the news of their baby.
But Eleazar walked in with his long-lost first love and threw a divorce agreement on the table.
"My condition has resolved. The terms of our contract are fulfilled."
He coldly announced that his psychosomatic illness was cured, and her role as his living treatment plan was finally over.
He kicked Elaina out of their master bedroom and falsely accused her of cheating based on a harmless paparazzi photo.
When she was bedridden with a severe fever from walking in the freezing rain, he abandoned her to comfort his precious first love, merely sending an assistant to dump Elaina at the hospital.
His first love even cornered her at a family gala, mocking Elaina as a pathetic substitute whose shelf life had expired.
Elaina was left utterly humiliated and heartbroken, her three years of devotion treated like a transactional joke.
But she couldn't understand. If she meant absolutely nothing to him, why did he violently claim her out of sheer jealousy?
Why did he sneak into her hospital bed to hold her tightly in his sleep?
And why did he furiously destroy the flowers another man brought her?
Wiping her tears, Elaina quietly deleted the pregnancy report from her phone.
Her despair hardened into cold, unbreakable resolve.
She would play the perfect Mrs. Hudson, secure her family's wealth, and protect her secret child.
When the time was right, she would take everything and disappear from his life forever.
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Chapter 6
Elaina spent the night wrapped in a thin blanket on the sofa, sleep never coming.
As the first rays of morning light filtered through the blinds, Eleazar stirred on the bed. A low groan escaped his lips as he brought a hand to his pounding head.
He opened his eyes, blinking in confusion at the unfamiliar ceiling, at the IV line taped to the back of his hand. Then he turned his head and saw her.
He saw her, and then he saw his own bare chest. The memories of the previous night came flooding back.
A dark flush crept up his neck. It was a toxic mix of shame and fury.
Elaina's voice was quiet, devoid of emotion. "You're awake. Is your stomach feeling any better?"
He ignored the question, pushing himself up too fast. He winced, a sharp pain lancing through his abdomen.
"Who told you to interfere?" he bit out, his voice raspy.
A small, humorless smile touched her lips. "You could always leave. I'm sure Kallie has been waiting for you."
The jab hit its mark. He had been on his way to Kallie's, but the image of Elaina's face in that newspaper photo had driven him to a bar instead.
Rage propelled him from the bed. He stalked toward her, his presence overwhelming in the small space. He leaned over her, his hand shooting out to grip her chin.
"You enjoy this, don't you? Seeing me like this."
"I'm just stating a fact," she said, her voice steady despite the painful pressure on her jaw.
Her calm, her infuriating detachment, pushed him over the edge. He lowered his head, his intent clear. A kiss meant as a punishment, a reassertion of control.
His lips were a breath away from hers when his phone, abandoned on the nightstand, lit up with an incoming video call.
Kallie's smiling face filled the screen.
Eleazar froze, the spell broken. It was like being doused with ice water.
Elaina used the moment to push him away, creating a precious few feet of distance between them.
He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, a frustrated, angry gesture, before accepting the call. He turned his back to Elaina.
"Eleazar, where did you go last night? I was so worried," Kallie's voice cooed from the phone.
"Emergency at the office," he lied, his voice low. "I was up all night."
Elaina watched him, a cold emptiness spreading through her.
Just then, his other phone, his private line, began to ring. The caller ID simply read: 'Mother'.
He cut Kallie off abruptly. "I'll call you back." He ended the video call and answered the second phone.
The imperious, unmistakable voice of Beatrice Hudson filled the room. "Eleazar. Where are you and Elaina? The family gala is this weekend. You will both be in attendance."
Eleazar sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. "Mother, Elaina and I are..."
"I don't care what you are," Beatrice interrupted, her tone like steel. "In public, and to this family, you are Mr. and Mrs. Hudson. The stability of this family's name is not up for debate. Now, put your wife on the phone."
Defeated, he held the phone out to Elaina.
She took it. "Good morning, Mother."
Beatrice's voice instantly softened. "My dear girl. I know things have been difficult. You just focus on feeling better. I want to see you this weekend. I'll have chef make your favorite lemon tarts."
In the midst of all the cruelty and confusion, that small, unexpected kindness felt like a lifeline. It was the only warmth she'd felt in days.
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8.0
When gifted cellist Vivienne Aurel inherits her late father's catastrophic $4.2 million debt, she expects to lose everything. She doesn't expect the debt to be bought by Caspian Vane, the most feared private equity magnate in New York. Caspian doesn't want to ruin her; he wants her to work exclusively for him as the artistic director of his new cultural foundation for eighteen months. Forced into his world under a binding agreement, Vivienne prepares to fight against a cold, transactional cage. But as the intense, quiet proximity between them begins to blur the lines of their contract, she discovers a terrifying truth: the man who now owns her future has been watching her from the shadows long before she ever knew his name.
7.9
Rose was so naive that she didn't know Jonah, her ex-fiancé, was cheating on her even before her wedding day. On the night before her wedding, she caught him cheating on her with the last person she would ever expect him to be with, Rebecca.
Out of anger and spite, she cursed at them and left, then went and got herself drunk and made out with a mafia don, who, oblivious to her, was her fiancé's stepbrother and his boss.
On the day of the wedding, she stormed in and canceled it, calling Jonah out. After the embarrassment, Jonah vowed to make her life miserable. She tried to get a job, but it was almost impossible because of the influence Jonah had.
So she went to the greatest mafia don that her friend Lucy recommended to her. When she went to ask for his help, the don turned out to be the mysterious man who had been showing interest in her, but she had kept declining. Unbeknownst to her, he was her ex-fiancé's boss and stepbrother.
She asked for his help, and he offered it, of course, but on one condition.that she would be his mistress !.
7.4
Deadly contract
7.4
"So we have a deal, do we? We do things my way, no argument, no buts."
"Yes," she bit out.
"Good,"he said, smiling wryly to himself at the thought that yes wasn't a word Joy was used to saying to men. But she was going to say it a lot during their time together. He would make her say it. No, he would make her want to say it.
34-year-old Joy Mike, who, after a failed engagement and struggling with infertility, seeks to conceive a baby alone. Childhood acquaintance and now successful, attractive John Davis intervenes with a tempting proposal: he will help her conceive in the "traditional way". The contract leads to intense passion and emotional risk for Joy as she risks losing her heart to the man who promised her a baby, but not a marriage.
9.1
My husband, Dante Moretti, the feared Underboss, signed the divorce papers I slipped him without a glance. Too busy texting his true love, Sofia, he was blind to the annulment decree ending everything. The Reaper couldn't see the death of his own marriage.
For three years, I was Elena, his silent wife, the "Caged Canary," cleaning his messes while meticulously planning my escape from our loveless world.
He dismissed me for Sofia's every whim, publicly shaming me after a past love letter was read, then abandoning me again for her fake crisis.
That night, he violently shoved me against a wall, leaving me bleeding and concussed, rushing instead to protect Sofia. Discarded and injured, my invisible love became a weapon against me.
His crushing blindness, the cold realization I was a mere placeholder, fueled a profound injustice. How could he be so lethal, yet oblivious to his wife, favoring the one who betrayed him?
With chilling resolve, I uploaded Sofia's confession, initiated a massive financial transfer dismantling his empire, and staged my own death. Under a new identity, I fled to San Francisco, ready to build my power, far from his bloody, deceitful world.
9.0
The biopsy report slid across the cold metal desk, stamped with a brutal death sentence: advanced gastric cancer. Aretha had exactly ninety days left to live.
It was her twenty-sixth birthday, but her phone only rang with a furious call from her husband, Anders.
"Do you have any idea how much of a joke you made this family look like today? Post a public apology to Kelli right now."
He had completely forgotten her birthday, only caring that she skipped her adopted sister's yacht party.
When Aretha dragged her failing body back to the family estate, her biological mother slapped her across the face just for looking pale and embarrassing them in front of guests.
Seeing Aretha wasn't submitting to the usual abuse, Kelli deliberately threw herself down the stairs, playing the innocent, depressed victim.
Anders rushed in and shoved Aretha brutally against the wall to protect Kelli, while her biological father delivered his ultimate threat.
"I am freezing your trust fund. Get on your knees and apologize to Kelli right now, or you won't see another dime."
A massive, suffocating sense of absurdity washed over Aretha. She had spent six years lowering her head and begging for their approval, only to be treated like a disposable placeholder. Why should she spend her final days enduring this agonizing torture for people who didn't even care if she breathed?
Aretha wiped the blood from her chin and laughed. She publicly severed all ties with her family, whipped the signed divorce papers directly at Anders's face, and walked out into the freezing storm—ready to fight for her own life.
8.7
My new boss is gorgeous, arrogant, and filthy rich.
The only problem?
He doesn't know he's also the father of my baby.
Six years ago, I was supposed to get married.
But the night before the wedding, my groom-to-be showed me sides of himself I'd never seen before.
I might've died in that hotel room...
If Mikhail Novikov hadn't burst in to save me.
Handsome, strong, capable knight in shining armor-sign me up, right?
WRONG.
Because Mikhail wasn't just the hero I never knew I needed...
He was also way more dangerous than I ever could've known.
But for one night, I let myself do something I never should've done.
It was worth it-several times over, if you catch my drift.
In the morning, though, I did the reasonable
I RAN.
For six years, I keep running.
Until I walk into work one day, and find my new boss waiting in my office.
Guess who?
And guess what he does when finds out about our baby?