When The Substitute Bride Walks Away

Five years after I married Grant Ashworth in my sisters place, Bianca finally decided to come home and claim what she felt was hers.
Im back now, Gen, she said, not bothering to lower her voice. The Ashworth Group CEOs wife title? You can hand it over.
My parents, the Fosters, were quick to chime in. If your sister hadnt been so kind, how would you ever have gotten to live this good life?
My husband, the man Id built a life with, frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. To be fair, Gen, Grant said, you have been occupying Biancas place all along.
I simply nodded, picking up the pen to sign the divorce papers that lay on the mahogany coffee table.
Day One: I deactivated the Amex Black Card Id given my parents, shutting down their fifty-thousand-dollar daily spending limit.
Day Two: I announced my immediate withdrawal from the corporate project team, bringing multiple multi-billion-dollar deals to a screeching halt.
Day Three: I blocked all their numbers, packed a single carry-on, and boarded a flight bound for Palm Beach.
Five years. I played the dutiful daughter and the faultless corporate wife, but I was never enough to overcome their preference for her.
Let them see how long that preferential treatment could sustain them without me.
1
I walked back into the house and found Bianca in the great room, personally hanging the framed wedding portrait she and Grant had taken years ago.
My parents and Grant were sitting nearby, and not a single person had offered a word of protest.
In the photo, Grant and Bianca were pressed close, radiating a blinding, genuine joy. Seeing it made my eyes sting, a visceral, burning pain.
I suddenly realizedin five years of marriage, aside from the stiff, formal picture on our marriage certificate, Grant and I didn't have a single photograph together.
Well, hello, little sister. Bianca raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, her eyes alight with smug triumph. Stolen things always have to be returned.
She took a slow, deliberate sip of her expensive champagne. Do yourself a favor and stop clinging to your sisters man. Its tacky.
My sisters man? I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. I looked pointedly at Grant, who had been staring at Bianca in silence since I walked in.
Don't you have anything to say? Or does this proposition sound appealing to you? I pressed. Dont forget, when your company was on the verge of bankruptcy, she decided she didnt want to be poor with you. How quickly she fled the country to escape the wedding.
My mothers face instantly twisted in anger. What nonsense are you spouting?
My father slammed his hand on the armrest of the sofa, trying to assert his authority. We are not dredging up the past, Gen!
I ignored them both, my gaze locked on Grant, desperate for him to give me an answer, a shred of defense.
Grants throat worked, and when he finally looked at me, his eyes were full of a weary, profound impatience.
Genevieve Foster, he said, his voice low but weighted with an undeniable bias. Whats the point in dragging up old scores?
Bianca was young. She made a mistake. He took his sister-in-law's side without hesitation. Now shes back. Our family is finally together. Just stop causing drama, alright?
My heart felt instantly seized by a cold, invisible hand. The pain was so intense it stole the air from my lungs.
You forced me to marry you in her place, and now youre helping her steal my husband. How can you call yourselves family? I choked out. What was I for these past five years? Was I just a tool to save your reputation? A temp to fill the void until the real bride decided to return?
Grant flinched, avoiding my stare. He exploded with a sudden roar. Enough! Can you just stop being so dramatic?
Bianca smirked, a cruel, mocking curve to her lips. Tell me, Gen. Sleeping in my marital bed, wearing my ring, with my man didn't it make you feel a little dirty?
Youre so wicked. You just love stealing your sisters things, dont you? she purred.
Her words were poison, delivered with the arrogant confidence of the favored child, twisting the narrative with effortless ease. I was shaking with pure rage. Bianca Foster, you have no shame!
Genevieve! Grant immediately pulled Bianca behind him, his voice a sharp, cutting reprimand. She is your sister! You cant speak to her like that.
Bianca nestled into Grant's embrace, whispering, Grant, Im sorry. This is my fault.
I shouldnt have brought any of this up. Gen took care of you for five years. She deserves a thank you, even if it was just out of pity She finished, her gaze flicking up to mine with a triumphant challenge.
Grant only grew angrier. Genevieve, look at you! Sharp-tongued and petty. You have zero class. Youre no wife for the CEO of the Ashworth Group.
He grabbed Bianca's hand. Lets go. Im taking you to the charity auction tonight. Well buy something you love. Consider it my apology.
He pulled her out the door, the heavy oak slamming shut behind them.
My parents immediately produced a crisply folded divorce agreement from a handbag.
You were reluctant before, but signing this now is best for everyone, my mother insisted. Grants assets have grown substantially, and Bianca is willing to split the equity evenly. Shes being remarkably generous, considering youre sisters.
Bianca was never "generous."
My parents nervous expressions told the real story: Grant knew nothing about this monetary compensation. They were offering me hush money, terrified I would disrupt their precious reunion.
I didn't let them persuade me further. I signed with one swift, decisive motion.
Fine. I agree to the divorce.
The instant the final stroke was complete, their faces relaxed into wide, eager smiles.
I couldnt help the cold, derisive sneer that escaped me. Forcing your own daughter to sign divorce papers. Does that make you that happy?
My mothers smile froze. We thought you were finally showing some maturity, but then you say something like that?
My father frowned, jumping to her defense. See? This is why youre not as pleasing as your sister. We cant be blamed for preferring her.
They snatched the papers from the table, not even sparing a single word of comfort. They turned and hurried out, leaving me alone in the oppressive silence.
The front door clicked shut. I sat there, the quiet pressing down on me, completely abandoned.
A moment later, my phone vibrated.
Amex Notification: Charge of $30,000.00 to Saks Fifth Avenue.
Simultaneously, Biancas feed updated: a new, limited-edition designer clutch, with the caption: Thank you, Mom, for the welcome home gift. Heart.
A glacial coldness spread from my chest, freezing me solid.
All these years, anything they offered me was either Biancas leftovers or what she couldn't be bothered to want. Any time I showed a hint of unhappiness, theyd immediately snap: Who are you making faces at? Do we owe you something?
You are so immature. Youre nothing like your sister!
I spent five years desperately trying to disprove that verdict, exhausting myself to win their affection.
But at that moment, I finally understoodsome favor, I was never going to be part of.
Face expressionless, I picked up my phone. I need to shut down the two authorized user cards on my family account. Immediately.
That evening, my mother burst through the door, throwing the credit card onto the floor in front of me.
We say two things you dont like, and you cut off our money? Did we raise you for nothing all these years?
My father followed, pointing a finger at my face, his voice booming with fury. You knew we were at the counter paying! You did that to deliberately embarrass us!
Then, Bianca strolled in, casually linked arm-in-arm with Grant.
Sister, you are truly going too far. Why couldn't you wait until you got home? Why did you make Mom and Dad suffer that humiliation in public?
This scenario had played out countless times in my memory. Now, Grant was a part of it.
His face was a mask of thunderous anger. He grabbed my arm, yanking me to my feet. Genevieve Foster! Are you ever going to let this go? Apologize to your parents, now!
He leaned closer, his voice a low, hard warning in my ear. Stop pushing it. Are you trying to tear this family apart?
When I stayed silent, he made the decision for me.
Mom, Dad, Gen was just upset. Ill make sure her spending limit is raised to one hundred thousand. Just charge whatever you want.
If you said it, I interrupted him calmly, youll be the one footing the bill.
Genevieve Foster! Grants patience snapped. He roared my name. Im asking you one last timeapologize or not?
He gripped my wrist, his strength so great I thought my bones would shatter.
Do you even want to be in this family?
No.
I snatched my hand back. Inside, I was calmer than I had ever been.
Grants angry expression went blank for a split second, as if he hadnt heard me correctly.
What did you say?
I didn't bother to repeat myself. I turned to walk away. My five years of obedience and devotion had only served as a reason for them to exploit me.
As I brushed past Bianca, she suddenly dropped to the floor.
Sister I know youre angry, but why would you push me? she whimpered, clutching her ankle. What if I broke something? Is that what you want?
Before I could react, a massive force hit me from behind. Grant shoved me out the front door, slamming me hard onto the cold flagstones.
A blinding sting of pain shot through my palms and knees.
Get out! His eyes were icy. You get out of here right now!
This house has no room for your drama queen routine!
Through the glass door, I saw Grant spin around and scoop up Bianca, who was still cradling her ankle. His tender, careful movement was in stark contrast to the brutal shove hed just given me.
Bianca settled into his arms, and over his shoulder, she flashed me a look of pure, victorious satisfaction.
I smiled back, a small, genuine curve of my mouth. I mouthed two silent words: You win.
Grant Ashworth, I didnt want him anymore.
My parentsI didn't want them either.
The next morning, I called a project team meeting. Since Id decided to leave, I owed them a professional transition.
Before I could even speak, Grant burst in, Bianca trailing behind him.
Effective immediately, all projects currently managed by Genevieve Foster will be transferred to Bianca, he announced to the stunned room.
He turned to me, his gaze cold. You injured Bianca yesterday and caused her distress. Letting her take over your projects will be your compensation to her.
I shot to my feet. I wont allow this!
Bianca studied art history. She cant read a single line of project code, and she has zero experience in finance! You cant just parachute her in and hand her hundreds of millions in core projects! Youre treating the company like a playground!
I had planned for an amicable departure, ensuring the projects were handed over responsibly. Not for Grant, but for the team members who had poured their blood and sweat into the Ashworth Group alongside me.
Is this just because youre jealous? Grant raged. Youre trying to humiliate Bianca in front of everyone!
Genevieve, he hissed, when did you become so malicious?
He raised his voice for the room to hear. I run the Ashworth Group now. Accept the new structure, or you can walk out of this project team.
He accused me of tarnishing Biancas reputation, yet he was systematically stomping my dignity into the dirt.
Fine, I said, nodding slowly. Im out.
I swept my gaze across the faces of my colleaguessome shocked, some pitying. Take care, everyone.
I didn't need to say another word. They knew what a manager relying solely on family connection, and a decision-maker confusing business with personal life, meant for their careers.
The news of my departure from Ashworth spread like wildfire.
Less than two hours later, my phone rang. Ms. Foster, if you are confirmed to be resigning, we will have to terminate our corporate partnership with Ashworth as per our contract.
Moments after that, the head of my core technology team texted me: All key members have collectively tendered their resignation. Were waiting for your next move.
Near noon, Grant stormed into the luxury boutique hotel suite where I was temporarily staying.
Genevieve Foster! He ground out my name. Where have you been? Are you doing this on purpose?
The entire financial district is talking about Bianca and me! Theyre saying you left because of her!
He grabbed my wrist again. You have to go back and clear her name. Now!
I sharply pulled my hand free. Even now, all you care about is her reputation?
Grant sneered. You think losing a few contracts and some employees resigning is going to hurt me? You just want to prove how important you are.
The important thing right now is Bianca! Shes an unmarried woman with a clean slate. Her reputation matters more than anything, and you are trying to ruin her with these false rumors.
Are any of those rumors untrue? I asked, my voice deadly quiet.
Smack!
The sharp, fiery sting of a slap erupted across my cheek. My ears were ringing.
In five years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever laid a hand on me.
Bianca is your sister! Grant gasped, his chest heaving with fury. How could you say that?
I slowly lifted my hand to my stinging cheek, my eyes holding only a dead calm.
Grant looked momentarily unsettled, but he quickly reasserted himself. Go apologize to Bianca. We can forget this ever happened.
And if I refuse?
I suddenly remembered Biancas first visit, demanding I "give Grant back." I had thought she was comically naive. Now, I saw that the person who was naive was methe one who thought Grant would never leave.
Then Ill divorce you! Grant roared. Genevieve Foster! Youre just not as likeable as your sister! Youre cold and stiff. What other man would want a woman like you besides me?
His phone chimed. Caller ID: Bianca.
He quickly hit the power button, the screen going dark. Im holding a press conference tomorrow morning. You will be there to support Bianca and clarify everything. If you dont, our marriage is over.
He left with the threat hanging in the air. The hurried way he spun around to return Biancas call spoke volumes about his priorities.
Standing there, I slowly raised my phone to my ear. Mr. Devlin, I have an 18% stake in the Ashworth Group. Are you interested?
I met Rhys Devlin in a private booth that evening.
Eighteen percent, added to my current holdings, is enough for a hostile takeover of Ashworth, he said, tapping a manicured finger on the table. He looked at me with sharp, dissecting eyes. Are you sure you want to go this far?
After five years of marriage, Grant and I had shared tender moments. I remembered the night I got rushed to the ER for a bleeding ulcer from endless company dinners. Grant had pulled this same stock transfer agreement from his safe, his hands trembling.
This is the only assurance I can give you, hed promised. Everything I have is yours. I will never fail you.
Now, the promise was hollow, and the man was unrecognizable.
I still hesitated. Pathetic, I know.
I took a deep breath and stood abruptly. Excuse me. I need to use the restroom.
On the way, I heard a familiar voice.
Mr. Ashworth, are you sure you want us to run the press release this way? A strange man asked. It says your wife, Genevieve, has always been jealous of her sister, Bianca, and that she orchestrated a plot to force her sister out of the country because Bianca was your original fiance. And now shes spreading false rumors because shes afraid of losing you
The man paused, a hint of doubt in his voice. That will completely destroy your wifes reputation.
After a brief, horrifying silence, I heard the voice I knew better than my own, cold and utterly devoid of compassion. Her reputation doesnt matter. Biancas does.
But sir, wont this make her divorce you?
Divorce? Impossible.
Grants tone was full of chilling certainty, a cruel psychological dissection. Her parents always favored her sister, so shes desperately needy for affection. If I occasionally toss her a little warmth, shell cling to it like a life raft. Shed never dare let go.
The wound that had finally begun to scab over was ripped wide open.
I squeezed my fists until my nails dug into my palms. I turned and walked back into the booth. The last vestige of my hesitation evaporated.
Mr. Devlin, I said, my voice steady. Ill sell you the shares. We can sign now.
Congratulations on your upcoming acquisition of the Ashworth Group.
The next morning, I stood alone at the airport in Palm Beach. I was ready to replace everything.
At 9:58 AM, I received Grants first call.
Genevieve Foster! Where are you? His voice was a choke of suppressed rage. Don't play games with me. The press conference is about to start. Get over here and clarify things for Bianca!
I hung up without a word.
Less than three minutes later, the second call.
Why is Rhys Devlin calling a shareholder meeting? What have you been doing behind my back? Did you think you could flirt your way into his favor to pull this stunt?
I am warning you, if you dont fix this immediately, I will divorce you!
I heard his self-serving threat and finally spoke, my tone distant and cool.
Grant Ashworth, if you go home right now, you should find the signed divorce agreement I left for you.

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