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The Substitute Wife's Spectacular Comeback Novel Cover

The Substitute Wife's Spectacular Comeback

When Chloe accidentally sliced her hand open, she immediately called her husband of three years for comfort. Bentley claimed he was stuck in Chicago on a business trip. But when Chloe went to the hospital for stitches, she saw him in a VIP room, tenderly kissing the hand of a fragile woman who looked exactly like her. Breaking into his locked study, Chloe found his hidden journal. She realized she was just a cheap substitute. He had only married her because she was a dead ringer for his fiancé, Blair, who had been in a coma. Now that Blair was awake, Bentley brought her to Chloe's private dress fitting. "Give her the dress. You're being selfish," Bentley demanded coldly. He forced Chloe to strip off her custom-made Met Gala gown to please Blair. He even secretly laced Chloe's daily tea with pills to ensure she never got pregnant. For three years, Chloe had built her life around him, only to realize her entire marriage was a cruel joke. How could he hold her tightly in their bed, whisper another woman's name in his sleep, and expect her to just accept it? When Bentley ripped up the divorce papers and threatened to destroy her architectural career, Chloe didn't shed a single tear. She packed up her blueprints, secured a billion-dollar island project with a mysterious tycoon, and walked out the door. This time, the substitute was resigning.
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Chapter 8

The law offices of Briana Mcdaniel occupied the top floor of 30 Rockefeller Plaza. The view was dizzying. Chloe stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the city that had almost swallowed her whole.

"The petition has been filed," Briana said, sitting behind her massive mahogany desk. "The process server will get to him today. It's going to get ugly."

"I know," Chloe said, turning away from the window. "I'm ready."

"Are you?" Briana asked, her gaze sharp. "Because once he's served, he's going to fight back. He's going to freeze your accounts. He's going to use the Morrow name against you."

"I don't care about the name," Chloe said. "I only care about the project."

Briana nodded and slid a thick document across the desk. "Then let's focus on that. This is the NDA. Sign it, and I'll give you the files."

Chloe didn't hesitate. She signed her name at the bottom. Briana handed her a silver encrypted flash drive.

Chloe plugged it into the laptop on the desk. The screen filled with topographical maps and schematics. A private island in the Aegean Sea. The design was radical-organic structures that grew out of the rock, powered by the tides.

"The investor is Dimitrios Morales," Briana said. "Eternity Group. He's a ghost, but his money is real. He wants a concept by the end of the week. If he likes it, you'll get a face-to-face."

Chloe leaned in, her eyes tracing the contours of the island. Her mind was already racing, visualizing the spaces, the light, the flow. This was her language. This was where she belonged.

"Morales," Chloe muttered. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"He's old money. Greek shipping magnate turned venture capitalist," Briana said. "Don't worry about who he is. Worry about what he wants."

Chloe spent the next hour taking notes, her handwriting frantic and precise. When she finally left the office, her head was buzzing.

She walked through Midtown, the cold wind biting her cheeks. She needed to think. She needed inspiration. She wandered into MoMA, losing herself in the quiet halls. She stood in front of a minimalist sculpture, letting the clean lines clear her mind.

Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

Three years and still not pregnant? I guess the Morrows are getting impatient for an heir. Tick-tock, Chloe.

It was Hailey. Her step-sister. The parasite.

Chloe answered the call, her patience nonexistent. "What do you want, Hailey?"

"Money," Hailey whined. "Dad's business is struggling. We need fifty thousand. If you don't give it to us, I'm going to the Post. I'll tell them all about how the Morrow heir is missing."

"I don't have fifty thousand," Chloe said, her voice flat. "And I don't care what you tell the papers. I'm divorcing him."

A pause. "You're lying."

"Try me," Chloe said, and hung up.

She walked out of the museum and stopped at a hot dog cart on the corner. She bought one with mustard and sauerkraut, eating it standing on the sidewalk as the snow started to fall. It was the best meal she'd had in years.

When she got back to the penthouse, Maura was waiting with a tray. A glass of warm milk and two small pink pills.

"Mr. Morrow called," Maura said. "He said you are to take these vitamins with your milk. He mentioned they are important for your health."

Chloe stared at the pills. They were a strange shade of pink. Not like any vitamin she had ever seen. She thought of the tea. She thought of the way Bentley always monitored her cycle, always asked about her health.

She picked up the pills. She looked at them for a long moment. Then she dropped them into the trash can.

"I'm tired," she told Maura. "I'm going to bed."

She didn't go to bed. She went into her studio and locked the door. She worked through the night. She cut, she glued, she sanded. She built a scale model of the island, her fingers moving with a speed and precision she hadn't felt in years. She named the central structure Celeste-the sky light. It felt right.

By dawn, the model was finished. It was beautiful. It was hers.

She took a photo and sent it to Briana. Ready.

He's going to love it, Briana replied. Meeting is tomorrow at 10 AM. I'll send the location. Don't be followed.

Chloe showered and dressed in her most professional suit. She packed the model into a secure box. She took a deep breath and walked out of the apartment.

She pressed the button for the elevator. The doors opened.

Alex Vance was standing inside.

He stepped out, blocking her path. "Mrs. Morrow. Mr. Morrow asked me to drive you today."

Chloe's heart sank. He was watching her. Bentley had set a guard on her.

"I'm just going shopping," Chloe said, forcing a smile.

"I'll come with you," Alex said, his face impassive.

Chloe gripped the handle of her model box. She had to get rid of him. She had to make this meeting.

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