The Savage Heiress Quits as the CEO’s Stand-In Wife

“Only one week left, Dad, until the three-year mark. I’ll have Larkin sign the papers soon. Once we’re divorced, I’ll be gone.”

Dionne had known since the moment she married Larkin Jablonski three years ago that this day would come. She just didn’t expect it to come so soon.

Then again, he had never loved her, even just once. The woman he truly loved was Farrah Willoughby—her sister.

Foster, her father, glanced at the divorce agreement. The corners of his mouth curled in satisfaction as he sneered.

“Larkin was always meant to be with Farrah. She just left for Melbourne a few years ago, and we let you take her place to avoid unnecessary trouble. Now, she’s back, and it’s time you step aside.”

Hearing those cruel words from her father’s mouth made her heart cold.

Apparently, that was what real family meant. Just because Farrah was the biological daughter, they used Dionne until they no longer needed her.

That gap between the two had never been clearer than it was a month ago—when Larkin’s fiercest rival kidnapped the two Willoughbys daughters.

Up in the sky, thirty-three thousand feet above the ground, there was only one parachute.

Without hesitation, Larkin gave it to Farrah.

And Dionne? She was thrown straight into the sea.

She would’ve died if not for Brixton Hemsley, the wealthiest man in Vermont, who happened to rescue her at the last moment.

It was from that moment on that she truly woke up.

A man who didn’t even care whether she lived or died—what was the point in holding onto him?

Seeing her not reacting, Foster frowned. “Despite everything, I’ve raised you like my own, Dionne. To compensate you, once you leave, I’ll give you a modest flat in the suburbs and ten grand.”

He said it as though bestowing great charity, as if those meager offerings were some grand reward.

Dionne’s reply came out flat. “Keep it. I won’t take a single thing from the Willoughbys.”

“I know you’ve always been proud, but you’re not my real daughter, Dionne. The fact that I’m even offering you this much is already generous. You shouldn’t be greedy.”

Her father narrowed his eyes. Not a hint of fatherly love could be seen in his gaze, only unwavering calculation.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” she said calmly. “The day I leave Larkin will also be the day I cut all ties with all of you.”

She had always been just the adopted daughter, anyway.

Back when Farrah disappeared, her mother fell into depression. The family only adopted Dionne to give Foster’s wife something to cling to.

At first, the foster parents treated Dionne kindly, pouring all their guilt for losing their biological daughter into her.

But that changed a year after she was adopted; the real daughter came back.

For the sake of their reputation, the family didn’t send Dionne away.

The first few years passed in relative peace. But starting in the third year, Farrah began to bully her in every way possible, even going so far as to frame her for theft.

In the grandest villa, Dionne lived yet did the lowest of chores.

More than an adopted daughter, she was treated like an unpaid maid.

Seeing her stand so firm, Foster scoffed. “Fine. Let’s see if you survive once you’re out of my villa!”

Hearing those words, Dionne let out a cold, mocking laugh.

Six months ago, her birth parents had found her. They were from the most powerful family in Montpelier—and she was their only heir.

Back then, she’d turned them down.

It wasn’t until half a month ago that she finally contacted them, agreeing to come home and inherit the family legacy.

Compared to what they owned, the Willoughbys’ so-called wealth wasn’t even worth mentioning.

Finally, Dionne stood and walked toward the door, leaving just one line before heading downstairs.

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll live a life far better than yours.”

But just as she reached the staircase, she heard faint sounds coming from the guest bedroom next door. The door was slightly ajar, and from within came the muffled gasps of a woman and the low grunts of a man.

Dionne had already guessed the truth, but seeing it with her own eyes still made her chest tighten with pain.

“Larkin, for you, who makes you happier—me or my sister?” came a coy, flirtatious voice.

His voice was rough and breathless. “Of course, it’s you. This kind of thing only feels right with the one I truly love.”

“You know I’ve only ever loved you, Farrah,” he reassured the woman on top of him. “Your sister’s always been just your stand-in.”

Each word from him was like a blade stabbing into her heart.

They didn’t kill her, but they cut deep.

Her blood seemed to freeze. She nearly stumbled where she stood until Farrah’s voice came out.

“Oh no… My sister’s outside. I’ll never be able to face her again!”

Larkin yanked the sheets around Farrah and snarled toward the doorway, “Get lost!”

Eyes red, Dionne turned and ran into the back garden.

She had loved Larkin for ten years.

Even knowing he didn’t love her back, she had still been willing to marry him.

Even when he proposed a secret marriage, she had agreed.

For three years, she was his secretary by day and his hidden wife by night, living entirely in the shadows.

‘As long as I give enough of my love…’ she convinced herself for three years, ‘he’ll love me back one day.’

But after three years of silent devotion, all she got from him… was the label “stand-in.”

She sat down on the ground, crying and laughing at the same time, completely drained.

She laughed at her younger self—for being so painfully naive.

She laughed at Larkin—for being an even bigger fool. Farrah had only come back to him because she’d had her fun and needed someone to pick up the pieces. Yet he thought she was a treasure.

Dionne didn’t know how long she slumped there. At some point, she just pulled out her phone and dialed the number of the man who had once saved her life.

“Mr. Hemsley,” she said calmly, “didn’t you say back then that you liked me? Well, I’m getting divorced in seven days. Do you have the guts to marry me then?”