The Billionaire's Stand-In Wife Is A Genius

Chapter 4 No.4

Word Count: 792 | Released on: 12/01/2026

uzzer. "Johnna Hayde

ked open with

of turpentine, varnish, and old canvas. It was a scent

th-facing skylights flooded the room with consistent, diffused light. Workstations

er. Simon Vance. He looked more like

firm, his eyes scanning her simple black trousers and

abbatical," John

and wire-rimmed glasses looked up from a microscope. This was Ster

ee years? In this industry, that me

On it sat a 17th-century Dutch still life. It was a disaster. A jagged, ugly tear ra

owing her gaze. "Transport accide

n a rag. "Structural integrity is compromised. W

x it," Jo

d, a harsh, barking sound. "You? Base

t's a bold claim. If you touch it and

studied the weave of the canvas, the brittle flaking of the paint around the tear. "The canvas needs a threa

ive me a test. Any scrap can

odded. "Sterling, give

of old linen onto a table. "K

magnifying visor. She pulled o

the studio faded. The anxiety about Chadwick, the divorce, the money-it

ned broken threads with a dentist's pick, applying microscopic dots of adhesive to a two-

ff the visor. "With the sta

ce. He picked up the canvas, holding

irk va

closer to his face. He ran a finge

ar?" Simon asked,

ooked at Johnna with a mixture of hatred

o-bridging. I haven't seen weave manipulation like this since the o

aid nothing. The Dyers had never asked about her father's profession, only

ouble the standard rate. Can y

Johnn

," Simon barked at

of dopamine. She was back. She

glass of water. Her phone, tucked in her

out, expecti

ith a name that mad

dwi

er other life came crashing back in. She stared at t

Chapter End

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The Billionaire's Stand-In Wife Is A Genius

Janna Lemay Romance

“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.”