The Substitute Wife's Secret Heir

Elaina spent the night wrapped in a thin blanket on the sofa, sleep never coming.

As the first rays of morning light filtered through the blinds, Eleazar stirred on the bed. A low groan escaped his lips as he brought a hand to his pounding head.

He opened his eyes, blinking in confusion at the unfamiliar ceiling, at the IV line taped to the back of his hand. Then he turned his head and saw her.

He saw her, and then he saw his own bare chest. The memories of the previous night came flooding back.

A dark flush crept up his neck. It was a toxic mix of shame and fury.

Elaina's voice was quiet, devoid of emotion. "You're awake. Is your stomach feeling any better?"

He ignored the question, pushing himself up too fast. He winced, a sharp pain lancing through his abdomen.

"Who told you to interfere?" he bit out, his voice raspy.

A small, humorless smile touched her lips. "You could always leave. I'm sure Kallie has been waiting for you."

The jab hit its mark. He had been on his way to Kallie's, but the image of Elaina's face in that newspaper photo had driven him to a bar instead.

Rage propelled him from the bed. He stalked toward her, his presence overwhelming in the small space. He leaned over her, his hand shooting out to grip her chin.

"You enjoy this, don't you? Seeing me like this."

"I'm just stating a fact," she said, her voice steady despite the painful pressure on her jaw.

Her calm, her infuriating detachment, pushed him over the edge. He lowered his head, his intent clear. A kiss meant as a punishment, a reassertion of control.

His lips were a breath away from hers when his phone, abandoned on the nightstand, lit up with an incoming video call.

Kallie's smiling face filled the screen.

Eleazar froze, the spell broken. It was like being doused with ice water.

Elaina used the moment to push him away, creating a precious few feet of distance between them.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, a frustrated, angry gesture, before accepting the call. He turned his back to Elaina.

"Eleazar, where did you go last night? I was so worried," Kallie's voice cooed from the phone.

"Emergency at the office," he lied, his voice low. "I was up all night."

Elaina watched him, a cold emptiness spreading through her.

Just then, his other phone, his private line, began to ring. The caller ID simply read: 'Mother'.

He cut Kallie off abruptly. "I'll call you back." He ended the video call and answered the second phone.

The imperious, unmistakable voice of Beatrice Hudson filled the room. "Eleazar. Where are you and Elaina? The family gala is this weekend. You will both be in attendance."

Eleazar sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. "Mother, Elaina and I are..."

"I don't care what you are," Beatrice interrupted, her tone like steel. "In public, and to this family, you are Mr. and Mrs. Hudson. The stability of this family's name is not up for debate. Now, put your wife on the phone."

Defeated, he held the phone out to Elaina.

She took it. "Good morning, Mother."

Beatrice's voice instantly softened. "My dear girl. I know things have been difficult. You just focus on feeling better. I want to see you this weekend. I'll have chef make your favorite lemon tarts."

In the midst of all the cruelty and confusion, that small, unexpected kindness felt like a lifeline. It was the only warmth she'd felt in days.