Substitute Fiancée: Unmasking My Ugly Wife

oom. The hallway was relatively quiet

the heavy wooden door of the boys'

d deep into the pockets of his uniform trouser

rled into his signature sneer. He opened his m

the door to the girls

d in dirty water from the floor. Her hair was a tangled mess, and masca

d up. She saw

She scrambled backward, almost tripping over her own feet, an

ped chewi

forth between the terrifi

look in Tinsley's eyes. It wasn't emba

n three long strides. He stepped direct

do in there?" Holt demanded,

wn at her shoes. She pushed

ice trembling with the fake Rust Belt accent. "I

laugh. He took a step closer

t buy this little innocent bunny act

wly raise

ing. She dropped t

Holt dead i

ft in her gaze. It was the look of a predator staring at a very loud, ve

inctively took a half-step backward. What the hell was that? For a second, she didn't look like a scared

. The terrifying aura vanished. She hunched her shoulders,

sat alone on a wooden benc

pulled out a sleek, black smartphone. It wasn't the cheap flip

h a single text messa

park in Brooklyn tonight. B

lew across the d

y and pulled out the cheap flip pho

on a project. Don't need a

instantly. Stay safe. D

phone shut, her fa

he bypassed the security cameras with practiced ease, sl

she reached a nondescript brick building. She walked d

igit code into the keyp

e underground safe ho

jeans. She walked into the small bathroom and used a harsh chemical s

he main room. She pull

cing suit. The material hugged every curve of her body, ac

own a matte black, carbon-fiber motorcycl

the room and yanked a heav

ack Ducati Panigale V4. It was a monster of

seat. She slid the key into

uttural growl that vibrated through

the chin strap. She reached up and pulled the

wisted the throttle, shooting out into the neon-