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The Billionaire's Stand-In Wife Is A Genius

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 891    |    Released on: 12/01/2026

to red brick, vinyl siding, and power lines th

driver asked, his eyes meeti

ange on her tongue, a sequence of number

atch of lawn was more brown than green. Her mother had moved here shortly after the wedding, insisting she needed to be within driving distance of the cit

he concrete steps. She stood at the door for a long

open before she

a wooden spoon in her hand. Her hair was grayer than J

d at the red-rimmed eyes, the sin

n breathed. "That

d pulled Johnna into a fierce, bone-crushing hug. Johnna smelled garlic,

r knees gave way, and she sa

, stroking her hair. "I've got

ohnna sat on the lumpy sofa, a mug of sweet tea in her hands. Susan

pointing a finger at the TV. "We

hnna said softly. "I

aughter's pale face and nodded. "Y

osters of Renaissance art exhibitions were taped to the walls

ess was soft and sagging. She pulled the q

pt for

to force her to drink water or eat a few spoonfuls of soup. She was vaguely aware of the sun

f the third day,

the cold light of the penthouse. It was warm, dusty, and

hadn't ended because Chad

wled, a loud, d

Johnna walked into the kitchen and made herself a sandwich, piling the

doorway, watching he

nna said, wiping cr

rest," Susa

hnna corrected. "I n

logged into a private, invite-only forum for art conservators. It was a world she

ught her eye

Chelsea that handled restoration for the kind of clients who o

ey had an emer

marriage. It was a common enough name to offer a veil of privacy, yet respected enough in the niche circles her father had once frequented under his own professional pseudonym.

hit

was it. This was who she really was. Not t

on the d

g Chadwick. But the not

on Vance,

t: Int

ou be here

reen. A fierce, sharp s

-

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The Billionaire's Stand-In Wife Is A Genius
The Billionaire's Stand-In Wife Is A Genius
“I woke up in a silk-sheeted penthouse, the lingering warmth of my husband's body still on the bed. But by the time the sun hit the floor-to-ceiling windows, Chadwick Dyer had already transitioned from the passionate lover of the night before into a cold corporate executioner. He didn't say "good morning." He placed a blue folder from his family's elite legal counsel on the nightstand and told me his childhood sweetheart, Ansley, was back in town. Our three-year marriage was being terminated as a "strategic move" to ensure the stability of his family's multi-billion dollar trust. He shoved a settlement check for millions into my bag, sneering that it was enough for me to live "happily ever after" with the man named Jay I supposedly called for in my sleep. I walked out with nothing but my old suitcase, returning to my hidden life as a master art conservator, only to be blackmailed back into his world forty-eight hours later. His grandfather threatened to ruin my career and my mother's home unless I played the devoted wife for the cameras while Ansley staged a fake suicide attempt to reel Chadwick back in. Standing in a VIP hospital wing, I realized the sickening truth: I was never the lead in my own marriage. I was just the understudy, a working-class girl picked because I was a dead ringer for the blonde socialite he truly desired. I was a placeholder for a ghost, a cheap replica used to fill a void until the "real" version returned. "You can have him," I told her, finally seeing through the high-society rot. "He's hollow anyway." I walked away from the hospital and the Dyer legacy, ready to disappear for good. But as I sat in a taxi, a notification on my phone stopped my heart. The man I thought had drowned three years ago-the Jay who haunted my dreams and the only man I ever truly loved-wasn't a ghost at the bottom of the Atlantic. He was the heir to a rival empire, he was back in New York, and he was the only one powerful enough to burn the Dyer family to the ground.”