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The Surrogate Wife's Revenge Ends In Checkmate Novel Cover

The Surrogate Wife's Revenge Ends In Checkmate

At the wedding, a video flashed: Lindsay was kidnapped, dress ripped. Amid the guests' jeers, Tyler, her fiancé, didn't waver, insisting on marrying her. She clung to him as rescue and spent three years devoted. Then she overheard him say, "I married her for a child. That clip? I staged it. Break her dignity and she'll worship you." Her world cracked. The warmth was an act; she was a tool, a mere surrogate to bear his child. Lindsay wiped her tears, sought Tyler's rival, Ashton, and said, "Help me bring him down. Name your price." The gentle wife vanished, replaced by a cold avenger-until Tyler realized she was beyond his reach.
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Chapter 7

The loud banging on the door and the electronic sound of the keycard were as loud as thunder in the quiet room.

Ashton immediately pressed his hand harder against Lindsay's mouth. His entire body became stiff with tension.

Lindsay's heart beat wildly because she knew Tyler was about to walk inside.

The second the lock turned and the door started to open, Ashton let go of her waist. He disappeared from behind her so quickly and quietly that it was scary.

Lindsay heard the sound of water in the bathroom nearby. Then, she heard a window being pushed open and quickly closed again.

At that exact moment, Tyler pushed the door open and walked into the lounge with long, angry steps.

Tyler looked furious. He stared at the messy bed and saw the dirty dress Lindsay had dropped on the floor. Then he stared at Lindsay, who was standing still in only her underwear.

Tyler looked both very angry and very suspicious of what was happening.

"Who was in this room with you?" Tyler asked in a deep, scary voice.

Lindsay snatched a clean dress and held it up to cover her body. The cold cloth made her shiver, but it also helped her feel calm and in control again.

"Does a husband really need to force his way in and question his wife like a criminal?" Lindsay asked without looking at him. "Do you actually think I am hiding a person in here?"

Tyler walked over to her quickly and grabbed her wrist. He squeezed so hard that Lindsay felt a sharp pain.

"Lindsay, you were too cruel tonight!" Tyler yelled. "Jenna is in pain because of you, and now you are acting like you've done nothing wrong?"

Tyler was breathing very hard from anger. He looked around the room like a hunter, and then he walked straight into the bathroom to search it.

Lindsay felt terrified, and her heart felt like it was stuck in her throat.

There was still steam in the air from the shower. The floor was wet, and although the window was closed, there was a little bit of water on the window ledge.

Tyler looked at the wet window ledge and then looked back at Lindsay. "Explain why this window is wet," he demanded.

"I opened it earlier because it was too hot and steamy, and I wanted some air," Lindsay lied as she zipped up her dress. "Are you done searching now? If you are, then get out."

"Why are you being so rude?" Tyler snapped. He was very angry that she was acting so cold. He moved close and trapped her against the wall with his body. "Lindsay, you embarrassed Jenna in front of everyone. You were mean to her, and now you are acting like this!"

"Like what, exactly?" Lindsay snapped, looking him straight in the eyes. "Tyler, you saw the scratch on Jenna's hand, you saw me pour wine over her, and you definitely saw how pitiful she looked before you."

Her voice was trembling, but it wasn't because she was scared. It was because she was finally letting out all the anger she had been bottling up after finding out the truth.

"But what about me? Did you miss the part where she dumped a glass of red wine all over me? Did you see her making fun of me in front of every guest we invited before she started her little performance?"

She pulled at the fresh dress she had just put on. "Are you only capable of seeing her? Do you honestly expect me to just sit there and take it without ever standing up for myself? Which one of us are you actually married to?"

Tyler went completely still. Without even realizing it, he let his grip on her wrist go slack.

"I..." He started to speak, but all his anger seemed to vanish instantly. He looked frustrated, but mostly, he just looked uncomfortable. "I just... I didn't want you to get so mean. So bitter..."

"You mean you didn't want me to stop being the pushover you can all bully?" Lindsay finished, pulling her arm away. "Enough, Tyler. Get out. I'll keep acting like the perfect wife for as long as you need me to, so don't worry about your reputation."

Those words clearly hurt him. The color drained from his face as he stared at her.

He looked torn, like he wanted to argue but didn't know how. Finally, he just dropped his hand. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I was just... really frustrated."

He didn't say another word. He turned around, walked out of the lounge, and closed the door behind him.

The room went quiet again. The only sound was Lindsay's shaky breathing, and she could still smell the faint scent of Ashton's cologne in the air.

Her knees felt weak, so she leaned back against the wall and took a long, trembling breath to try and calm down.

A moment later, the bathroom window, which had been closed, started to slide open again.

A man soaked in water climbed inside and landed on the floor without making a single noise.

Ashton was only wearing a towel. Water was dripping from his hair and running down his chest. He wiped his face, stepped toward Lindsay, and gave her a look that was half-serious and half-smirk.

"That was a close call, Mrs. Hardy," he said in a deep, gravelly voice. "So, are you done dealing with your husband's little tantrum now?"

"Sorry about that," Lindsay said, her voice steady. "I didn't exactly plan for him to barge in."

"Lindsay Hardy..." Ashton ground out her name, his voice so freezing it made her skin crawl. "You're Tyler Hardy's wife."

Lindsay couldn't stop a shiver from running down her spine, but she forced herself to look him in the eye. "I won't be his wife for much longer," she replied.

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. "So, was our night together part of your plan? Did you get close to me just to use me?"

He sounded more dangerous with every word. "What's the game here, Mrs. Hardy? Was I the target? Or were you just using me to get revenge on your husband and his mistress?"

The air in the room felt ice-cold as his anger intensified.

He wasn't the vulnerable man from the other night anymore. This was the real Ashton Clarke—a powerful man who controlled everything and despised being manipulated.

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