His Substitute Bride I'm Done Being Her Shadow

Millie barely had time to register the danger before a sharp pain exploded at the back of her neck.

The last thing she heard, as consciousness slipped away, was her parents' relieved murmuring. "Lucille is just like Carrie. How could we let her suffer..."

The iron door slammed shut with a cold, metallic clang that pierced her eardrums.

The stench of sweat, mildew, and disinfectant mingled in the air, so thick it burned the inside of her nose.

Millie curled up on the freezing slab of a bed, the officer's words still ringing in her ears.

"Millie Sullivan, you are under formal arrest on suspicion of aggravated assault. The evidence is conclusive."

Conclusive evidence?

Identified by her own fiancé. Delivered by her own parents. All to protect her sister's glorified lookalike. They had thrown her away without a second thought.

The other inmates jeered openly, their eyes raking over her with a cocktail of jealousy, contempt, and undisguised malice.

"Well, well. The fiancée of Gilbert Group's CEO. Guess her own family turned her in."

Water came next. Bucket after bucket, ice-cold, dumped over her head.

Millie tried to call out for the guards, but a hand clamped over her mouth before she could make a sound. Then the fists came down like rain.

By evening, she was burning with fever. Her only meal had been knocked to the floor by the other women, the rice scattered across the filthy concrete.

All Millie could do was curl tighter into herself.

Her throat had gone raw hours ago. No voice left to cry out with.

No tears left to shed.

Clint finally deigned to appear the following afternoon.

"Millie!" He rushed over and pulled her into his arms. "It's over. Everything's been taken care of."

He seemed quite pleased with himself. Myron Neal, the man Lucille had struck with the bottle that night, owed Millie a favor from years back. Once he regained consciousness and confirmed there was no chance of successfully pressing charges against Lucille, he signed the settlement letter immediately.

"But if Lucille had been the one sitting in a cell, Myron might not have been so generous. Besides, she only did what she did for the sake of the job."

How laughable.

Even though she had already guessed the truth, hearing him say it out loud still drew a bitter laugh from Millie's lips.

The laughter crumbled halfway through, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Clint, the person you've always loved is my sister. Now that you've found an even better stand-in, why won't you just let me go?"

"What are you talking about? Stand-in? That's ridiculous."

He turned his face away, guilt flickering across his features. "I was just looking out for a new employee. Stop overthinking this. I'll throw you a proper engagement party in a couple of days. I promise there won't be any mix-ups this time. And if it really bothers you that much, once we're officially engaged, I'll let Lucille go. Okay?"

"Whatever."

Millie couldn't be bothered to argue anymore.

Clint mistook her silence for surrender. With exaggerated tenderness, he drove her back to the hotel.

They had barely sat down before his phone rang again.

That familiar, teary voice on the other end. Lucille's signature whimper. Clint's expression softened without him even realizing it. He murmured reassurances until the call ended, then reached for Millie's hand again, half-nervous.

"Millie, I can't wait to show the world how happy we are. Let's move the engagement party up to tomorrow. What do you say?"

"Fine."

"I'll pick you up in the morning?"

"Fine."

Millie answered with flat indifference, not bothering to call out such a transparent lie.

Lucille certainly lived up to her reputation as a walking disaster, barreling down the path of recklessness without ever slowing down.

Millie didn't ask Clint to stay. She watched in silence as his figure vanished from sight at record speed.

Off to comfort his precious darling, no doubt.

But none of that had anything to do with her anymore.

Still, the people who had framed her shouldn't expect to walk away unscathed.

In the back of the taxi, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number with care.

"Mrs. Nora Neal? Hello. I have something I'd like to share with you... Yes, that's right. Tomorrow."

Tomorrow was going to be quite the spectacle.

Too bad she wouldn't be there to see it.

Today was her last day. She was really leaving. And now that the moment had come, Millie felt no heartbreak at all. Only relief.

The taxi pulled away toward the airport. At a certain intersection, it passed Clint's car heading in the opposite direction.

Like two lines that had briefly crossed at a single point.

From here on out, their paths led to different horizons, and there was no reason for them to meet again.