The Substitute Bride of the Alpha

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Huo Wuer

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

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SCARLET'S POV"

I felt a tight slap across my face where I stood, and my lips broke and gave way to fresh blood. I could taste it in my mouth.

My cheeks ached as tears pricked at my eyes and my fist clenched into a ball of rage, but I dared not move away from the spot I was unless I wanted to make it worse.

Ever since I lost my parents, my life has been worse compared to hell. My mother was a human who just had to fall in love with a werewolf, and they had me. After she died, my dad remarried his mate, who later had a daughter for him.

I always found my mother's disappearance strange, as she was fine one night and the next morning, she was found dead in her bed. Nobody cared enough about her though to have the death investigated.

Only a few days later, my dad brought home his mate who was already pregnant. Soon after, he left to join my mother in the same strange way she had been.

My suspicions were that my stepmother had killed both my mom and my dad, but I didn't have any proof and even if I did, no one would spare me a listening ear or the time to take action.

Just like my mother, I was a human. In other words, I was useless.

I'd had to live with my stepmother, Hannah, and my step-sister, Deborah, who treated me as no more than a doormat.

"Why do you have to be so stupid?!" My stepmother spat at me with eyes widened in anger and frustration. "Everywhere I go, I am reminded of this baggage that I have with me, and you always have to let it show that you are so useless! Why were you even born?!"

I always ask myself that question as well. Why was I even born in the first place? To live like a slave and be treated like a non-living thing?

She scoffed as my eyes fell to my feet. I hid my hands behind my back and stood in an apologetic manner. She hadn't given me the chance to speak, therefore, I couldn't apologize.

"Who gave you the permission to touch my things?" "Answer me when I am talking to you, you filthy pig!" She spat out at me.

"I didn't mean to–"

Another slap landed on my face, shutting me up. I winced from the pain and cupped my cheeks in my hand. I stared up at her as tears trailed down my cheeks.

"Of course." She stood with her hands on her hips. "You didn't mean to, it was a mistake. Every time you ruin something, it is always an accident! You yourself are an accident! Only the moon goddess knows what made that fool. Thomas marries a puny human."

Thomas was my father. I gritted my teeth in anger. The way she spoke of my late parents always got on my nerves, but there was nothing I could do about it.

My dad was an alpha and could do things the way he wished. That was how he decided to marry my mother after falling in love with her and no one could question him.

"Stop wasting your strength on this useless thing mother." My stepmother, Deborah, spoke up.

She rose from her seat and walked towards us. "I have a few chores for her to carry out. That's the only thing she is good for: running errands and washing the toilet." She threw a small sheet at me and, along with it, were a few hundred dollars. "Hurry! Make sure you get everything on that list."

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