The Substitute Wife's Reckoning

I married Sebastian White in my sister Isabelle's place seven years ago.

The day Isabelle returned to the country, she smiled at me and said, Give me back my position as Mrs. White.

My parents knelt and begged me to step aside.

I thought the most painful thing was being discarded like trash by my own parents.

Then Sebastian coldly said to me, "She's your sister. What's wrong with making a sacrifice for her?"

It turned out that after seven years of marriage, the woman in his heart had always been my sister.

So I chose to let him go.

But when the divorce papers were signed, Sebastian knelt on broken glass, his eyes red, begging,

"Do you really not love me anymore?"

Claire's POV

"Claire, I've had my fun abroad. Thank you for taking care of Sebastian these seven years. Now that I'm back, you can give me back my position as Mrs. White."

This was the first thing Isabelle said to me after disappearing for seven years.

I stood in the foyer, still holding the supplements I'd just bought for my mother, Margaret.

"Had your fun and now you want to come home?"

I asked with a cold laugh, my gaze sweeping over my parents standing nearby.

My father, Victor, kept his head down, smoking, playing deaf and dumb.

My mother, Margaret, had red-rimmed eyes but didn't dare look at me.

Isabelle stood up, walked over to me, and reached out to take my hand. I dodged to the side.

She didn't get angry. She withdrew her hand, smoothed her skirt, and smiled with innocent cruelty.

"Yes, abroad wasn't all that great after all."

"Connor is my biological son, and Sebastian loves me. Claire, you've occupied the position of Mrs. White long enough. It's time to let our family of three reunite."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Isabelle, are you still asleep?"

"Sebastian and I are legally married. You think one sentence from you can make me step aside? You think this is a game?"

"Claire!"

Victor, who had been silent, suddenly slammed the table.

The cups rattled loudly.

His face was full of displeasure.

"Is that how you talk to your sister? You can't be too greedy! If Isabelle hadn't left back then, would this wealth have been yours?"

My mother Margaret burst into tears and rushed over to grab my hand.

"Claire, just do it for the family. Your sister suffered abroad. Now it's time to give her man back."

Seven years ago, Isabelle got pregnant by some random man and fled the country overnight with the family's cash.

The White family was furious, and the family business faced a broken capital chain.

They knelt before me, begging me to marry in her place.

Victor held a shard of porcelain to his throat to force me. Margaret knelt on the ground crying.

Back then, they said, "Claire, you're this family's savior."

Now that their beloved eldest daughter Isabelle was back, I had become an unimportant villain.

I shook off Margaret's hand.

"Mom, don't go too far."

"These seven years, I've been in the White family, helping the family secure how many projects, filling how many holes. Don't you know that in your hearts?"

"Now you want me to step aside? Fine."

I looked around at these bloodsuckers.

"Have Sebastian come talk to me himself. Besides the law and him personally, no one can make me leave."

With that, I turned and walked away.

Behind me came Isabelle's aggrieved crying and Victor's furious cursing.

"Bitch! Ungrateful bitch!"

Walking out of the villa, I realized my whole body was trembling.

I took a deep breath of cold air to suppress the nausea rising in my chest.

I wasn't afraid of the family making trouble. Their current wealth and glory all came from me. Cut off the supply and they'd naturally quiet down.

What I really couldn't predict was Sebastian White.

What if he also thought that now the original had returned, I, the substitute, should exit?

When I drove back to the White family estate, the villa's lights were blazing.

I'd just pushed open the front door when a small figure rushed out from the living room and dove into my arms.

"Mom! Why are you only coming back now?"

The seven-year-old boy had already grown quite tall, but in front of me he was still like a clingy kitten.

He hugged my waist, his tone full of grievance.

"I finished all my math problems and wanted you to check them, but I've been waiting until now."

Looking at this face that vaguely resembled Isabelle in some features, my heart ached, yet instantly softened.

To run away with her lover, Isabelle gave birth and abandoned the baby at the hospital without even nursing him once.

I was the one who brought his wrinkled little body home, fed him his first bottle, watched him learn to walk, stayed up with him through his first fever, attended his first parent-teacher conference.

These seven years, all his joys and sorrows were connected to me.

Now Isabelle wanted to erase all of this with one sentence about being his biological mother?

Dream on.

I crouched down and smoothed his messy hair, speaking gently.

"Sorry, I had something that delayed me. Go to sleep now, and tomorrow morning I will make you something delicious."

"Really?"

Connor's eyes lit up. He leaned over and planted a loud kiss on my cheek.

"Mom's the best! Then I'll go to sleep first. Good night, Mom!"

Watching the child's happy figure run upstairs, I took a deep breath.

This was my son.

Regardless of blood relation, no one could take away the child I raised.

Claire's POV

I adjusted my expression and pushed open the master bedroom door.

Only a floor lamp was lit in the room, the lighting dim.

Sebastian was sitting on the sofa, holding a report in his hand.

Hearing the door open, he unhurriedly turned a page.

This excessive quietness made my scalp tingle instead.

"You're back?"

He finally spoke, his voice low and unreadable.

I changed out of my coat, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Yes, I went back to the family."

The sound of turning pages stopped abruptly.

Sebastian closed the file and casually tossed it onto the side table.

He looked up, his deep eyes landing on me.

In that instant, I had the illusion of being trapped.

"Come here."

He leaned back in his chair and extended his hand toward me.

I stiffly walked over and stood before him.

Sebastian grabbed my wrist and pulled.

I lost my balance and fell onto the armrest of the sofa, forced into close proximity with him.

"Your hands are so cold?"

My heartbeat skipped.

"It's a bit cold outside."

I lied, turning my head away, not daring to look into his eyes.

Sebastian let out a soft laugh, though the amusement didn't reach his eyes.

He forced me to turn my head and face him.

"Claire, you're very distracted today."

His fingers slid down my cheek and pinched gently.

"Did something happen?"

I bit my lip lightly and swallowed back the words that had reached my mouth.

I wasn't sure if he knew Isabelle had returned, much less how to bring up this matter.

"No."

I met his gaze, forcing a smile.

"Maybe I'm just tired."

Sebastian stared at me for a long time, then released his hand.

"If you're tired, rest early."

In the morning when I left for work, just as I drove out of the residential complex's underground parking garage, a figure suddenly rushed out.

I braked in shock, looking up to see Isabelle's twisted face pressed against the windshield.

She pounded on the hood violently, looking exactly like a madwoman.

"Claire! Get out here!"

"You shameless woman! Stealing your sister's husband, stealing your sister's son. Give them back to me!"

It was rush hour, and people were coming and going at the complex entrance.

Passing pedestrians and security guards all stopped, pointing and whispering.

Isabelle's hair was disheveled, making her look pitiful.

"I'm the child's mother! She stole my husband, stole my child!"

Public opinion exploded instantly.

"Oh my God, is this the wife coming to collect a debt?"

"So the current Mrs. White was a mistress who seized the position?"

I sat in the car, coldly watching her performance.

I locked the doors and lowered the window just a crack.

"Make any more trouble and I'll call the police."

My voice wasn't loud, but in the noisy environment it was exceptionally clear.

Isabelle's movements paused.

She pressed against the window, revealing a strange smile.

Through the glass, she mouthed the words to me.

"The son is mine by birth. You can't steal blood ties."

Those words were like a needle, precisely stabbing into the most painful place in my heart.

My fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly.

Security finally reacted and rushed forward to pull her away.

"Move!"

I hit the gas, and the car shot forward, its body brushing past Isabelle's skirt hem.

In the rearview mirror, Isabelle was still smiling, triumphant.

When I got to the company, I sat in my office holding cold coffee, my heartbeat still not settled.

Images from childhood flashed through my mind.

Isabelle was the family jewel, I was the pedestal.

When she got in trouble, I took the blame. When she didn't want to do her homework, I did it for her.

Seven years ago, she got pregnant out of wedlock and eloped.

The family collapsed.

To preserve their wealth and glory, my parents pushed me out to fill the hole.

I knelt on the ground begging them, saying I'd just graduated, I had my own life.

Father slapped me awake.

"Isabelle is gone, you have to take her place! The family didn't raise you all these years to be a freeloader!"

Mother just cried.

"Claire, the family can't fall. Just think of it as saving your mother."

I thought about dying.

It was Sebastian who added terms to the prenuptial agreement.

He would help the family pay off debts, give me the dignity and power of Mrs. White, on the condition that I must be a perfect wife and treat Connor as my own.

This was a transaction where I traded my dignity and seven years of youth.

Now Isabelle wanted to come back and pick the fruit?

Dream on.

Since they forced me to sacrifice to create this situation, don't think I'll give it up easily now.

I don't owe the family anything.

The family owes me.

Just as I was thinking, the office door was pushed open.

Besides Sebastian, no one dared enter my office without knocking.

I quickly adjusted my expression.

"Sebastian? What brings you here?"

Sebastian wore a dark gray custom suit, carrying the cold air from outside.

He didn't answer, walking straight behind me.

A pair of large hands encircled my waist.

My body stiffened for a moment, then I forced myself to relax.

This was his territory, and I was his possession.

"Passing by, came to check on you."

His chin rested in the hollow of my neck, warm breath spraying at my ear.

"That recent acquisition case was well done."

"As it should be."

"Connor keeps asking to see you."

He suddenly mentioned the child.

My heart tightened.

Did he know Isabelle had gone to see the child? Or was he hinting at something?

"I'll go home to spend time with him tonight."

I turned around and straightened his tie, my movements practiced and natural.

Sebastian looked down at me, his eyes deep.

"As long as you're obedient."

He patted my face, his tone meaningful.

"No one can take your place as Mrs. White."

With that, he released me and turned to leave.

It wasn't until the door closed that I felt a cold sweat on my back.

He knew everything, as expected.

As long as I behaved and didn't let Isabelle make things blow up, I would still be Mrs. White.

I looked at the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, my gaze gradually turning cold.

Relying on a man was indeed not as good as relying on myself.

Claire's POV

The winds in the social circle had changed. People began spreading rumors about the real and fake heiresses.

Some hinted that I was a substitute who stole my sister's man, saying now that she was back, I, the impostor, should leave.

Isabelle was clever. She befriended some wealthy heirs and heiresses, crying to them about her tragic experience, fabricating herself as someone who sacrificed for love.

The annual White Corporation charity gala was about to be held.

I went to a top beauty salon for treatments, preparing for the gala.

I'd just laid down when a sarcastic voice came from the next bed.

"I heard Sebastian White's legitimate wife is back? Some bitch occupied the position for seven years. It's time to give it back, right?"

The speaker was Mrs. Walsh, whose family made their fortune in coal mining. She'd always wanted to break into the core social circle and disliked me. So recently she'd been getting close to Isabelle.

Several other society ladies stopped their treatments, waiting to watch the show.

I didn't even lift an eyelid, keeping my eyes closed while enjoying the technician's massage.

"Use more pressure."

I instructed coolly.

Seeing me ignore her, Mrs. Walsh's voice rose eight octaves in anger.

"Stop pretending! Everyone knows you just picked up the leftovers! Once the real wife takes her position, let's see how arrogant you'll be then!"

The noise was too loud, affecting my mood.

I opened my eyes and sat up.

Without even glancing at Mrs. Walsh, I beckoned the manager over.

"Miss Hart, how may I help you?"

The manager rushed over at a trot, bowing ninety degrees.

"Don't let these kinds of riffraff into the VIP area anymore."

I adjusted my robe.

"Too noisy. Lowers the class of the place."

The manager's face changed instantly, immediately turning to Mrs. Walsh.

"Mrs. Walsh, I'm sorry, but please move to the regular area, or..."

"You dare kick me out?"

Mrs. Walsh's face instantly darkened.

"I have a membership card!"

"Your card level isn't sufficient."

The manager's tone was firm.

"Please don't disturb Miss Hart's rest."

Under the security guards' watchful eyes, Mrs. Walsh was driven out cursing like she'd swallowed a fly.

The surroundings instantly quieted.

Those ladies who'd been waiting to watch me make a fool of myself immediately put on fawning smiles without shame.

"Miss Hart is so formidable."

"Exactly, how dare someone like Mrs. Walsh try to cause trouble."

I lay back down.

In this circle, you don't rely on talk. You rely on real financial power and influence.

Gossip couldn't hurt me in the slightest.

As long as I still sat in the position of Mrs. White, they had to butter me up.

Back in the car, I opened my tablet.

The private investigator had sent an encrypted folder.

All photos.

Isabelle's seven years abroad were hardly spent suffering.

In the photos, she wore heavy makeup, mixing in various underground casinos and nightclubs, with different men by her side.

There were also several abortion medical records.

The time span was large, with the most recent one from just six months ago.

Looking at this evidence, I found it utterly ironic.

This was her so-called sacrifice for true love?

This was what my parents called suffering hardship?

She'd turned her life into mud, and now she wanted to come back and play the victim.

Isabelle, if you insist on coming to the gala to seek death, then I'll grant your wish.

When I got home, I heard the sound of a paper shredder as soon as I entered.

Connor was sitting on the carpet, feeding a photo into the machine.

"Connor, what are you doing?"

Connor looked up, his face full of disgust.

"Mom, after school today a weird lady stopped me and insisted on giving me a gift. She even said she was my mom."

My heart sank.

"What gift?"

"A bottle of perfume. It smelled terrible."

Claire's POV

Connor pointed to the empty box on the table.

"And this photo."

I picked up the box. Inside was a photo of Isabelle holding infant Connor, with four twisted words written on the back.

"Mommy loves you."

"That lady was so scary. I didn't want it."

Connor buried himself in my arms, his small hands gripping my clothes tightly.

"Mom, I don't know her. I only have you as my mom."

I held my son tightly, my eyes stinging.

Isabelle wanted to play the family card, not knowing that seven years of companionship had long surpassed blood ties.

The child wasn't stupid. He knew in his heart who treated him well.

"It's okay. Stay away from that lady from now on."

I watched the shredder swallow that photo, clenching my fists.

Isabelle, you shouldn't have, you absolutely shouldn't have reached your hand toward the child.

When Sebastian came home, he glanced at the shredded paper in the trash can, seeming to guess what had happened.

But he said nothing, just took an invitation from his briefcase and handed it to me.

"You're the hostess for tomorrow night's gala."

He looked at me steadily.

"Don't disappoint me."

I took the invitation, my fingertips tracing over the words "Mrs. White."

"Don't worry."

I smiled at him.

The charity gala venue.

A giant backdrop board was being hoisted up by workers, printed with some real estate company's huge logo.

"Who authorized this to be hung?"

I asked.

The project director rushed over, sweating profusely.

"This was just forcibly requested by the sponsor's representative. They said Mr. Lee specially approved it..."

I didn't even lift an eyelid, pointing at the board.

"Take it down."

"But..."

"No buts."

A middle-aged man emerged from behind the scaffolding, an oily smile on his face.

"This is a promotional spot specially approved by Mr. Lee. If you take it down, I'm afraid next year's sponsorship funding won't be easy to negotiate."

The man deliberately emphasized the words "sponsorship funding," his eyes showing some contempt for me.

One minute later.

The man's phone rang. He answered, and his face instantly turned deathly pale.

"What? Bought out? Refund?"

I put away my phone.

"Now this advertising spot belongs to me."

I stepped forward, my high heels clicking crisply on the marble floor.

"Take your garbage and get out of my venue."

The man opened his mouth, looked at the security gathering behind me, and finally slunk away.

After dealing with the sponsor, I walked toward the back corridor.

The security chief was already waiting with a team of men in black.

I handed him a photo.

The photo showed Isabelle, an old photo from seven years ago, her expression frivolous.

"Burn this face into your memory."

"No matter who brings her in, if this person appears in the banquet hall, your entire security team is fired."

The chief took the photo, breaking into a cold sweat.

"Yes, Miss Hart."

VIP lounge.

During rehearsal breaks, I sat on the sofa massaging my aching ankles.

Several society ladies who'd just received entry tickets were gathered together touching up their makeup.

A woman from a wealthy mining family approached with champagne.

"Miss Hart, I heard your sister returned to the country? She used to be our trendsetter. Why isn't she here?"

Her voice was loud, and the surroundings instantly quieted.

Everyone pricked up their ears.

I was looking at the event schedule. Hearing this, I only glanced up briefly without responding.

The air froze for three seconds.

She realized she might have stepped on a landmine and awkwardly tried to cover.

"Oh, I mean, you have much more of the Mrs. White presence now..."

I closed the folder and smiled at my assistant beside me.

"Re-evaluate Mr. Smith's membership eligibility for next year."

Mrs. Smith's face turned deathly pale.

Those around who'd wanted to watch the excitement immediately scattered, afraid of being implicated.

The main hall doors were pushed open.

Sebastian entered with his executive team.

He wore an impeccably tailored custom suit, like a star surrounded by admirers.

I immediately shoved my feet back into my high heels, enduring the severe pain as I stood up.

Sebastian walked straight to the main stage, looking up to check the lighting.

From beginning to end, he didn't look at me once.

"Well done."

Isabelle's POV

Late at night, the TV was playing preview news of the gala, with glamorous images of Claire on screen.

A vase smashed into the screen, glass shattering everywhere.

I rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a fruit knife.

"I don't want to live anymore!"

I pressed the knife against my carotid artery.

"If you can't get me in, I'll die right here at home! When the police come, I'll say you forced your biological daughter to death to make way for that substitute!"

Mom collapsed on the floor in fright, crying and trying to grab the knife.

"Isabelle, don't do anything foolish! I'll find a way, I'll definitely find a way!"

The knife in my hand broke the skin slightly, blood beading up.

Dad looked at my crazed state, his face iron-gray.

After weighing the pros and cons, he gritted his teeth and went to rummage through a drawer.

"Put the knife down! I still have a supplier's debt contract. This is the only opening left."

Only then was I satisfied.

This was a desperate gambler's bet. I had no way back.

Mr. Walsh, the supplier, sounded reluctant on the phone.

"Mr. Hart, there's definitely no way through the main entrance. You can only go through the cargo passage."

I looked at my well-maintained fingers, instinctively wanting to scream in refusal.

That was a path for lower-class people.

But turning to see Claire's superior attitude on TV, jealousy conquered my pretentiousness.

As long as I could get in.

Even if I had to crawl through the sewers, I would smash that stage.

"I'll go."

I said through gritted teeth, the words squeezing out from between my teeth.

Mom took out a newly purchased haute couture gown from the current season.

"Isabelle, wear this. You'll definitely outshine everyone."

I pushed the new clothes away.

I rummaged through boxes and drawers, dragging out a slightly yellowed dress from the very bottom.

"This was the first gift Sebastian gave me seven years ago."

I obsessively caressed the hem of the dress.

"He wasn't that rich back then, but this represents that I was his first love."

Mom frowned.

"But this one is a bit old..."

"What do you know!"

I shouted, forcibly squeezing my body into the dress that was already too small.

"That substitute can wear expensive clothes but she's still a fake. As long as I appear in this, Sebastian will remember how much he loved me."

I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled.

The next evening, a cargo truck stopped at the back door of the Hart family villa.

I wore an oversized work coat, hiding that white gown underneath.

I wore a mask and baseball cap, climbing into the cargo hold that reeked of lily fragrance and earth.

Dad handed me an envelope.

"This contains what you need. You can only succeed. Whether the Hart family can turn things around depends on tonight."

The cargo truck drove on the highway, jolting badly.

I huddled between flower buckets, enduring the fishy smell of earth.

I took out my phone and clicked on the gala's red carpet live stream.

On screen, flashbulbs fell like a waterfall.

Claire walked the red carpet on Sebastian's arm.

The sapphire necklace around her neck sparkled brilliantly under the lights.

That was a White family heirloom-level unique piece.

I stared fixedly at the screen, my nails digging into my palms.

I was hiding in a cargo hold like a rat.

While that sister who once served me stood on a cloud receiving worship.

All of this should have been mine!

The necklace was mine, the position was mine, the glory was mine too!

Since I couldn't have it, then I'd destroy it in front of the whole world.

Claire's POV

I appeared in the banquet hall on Sebastian's arm.

Reporters' cameras focused on us.

Someone boldly asked a question.

"Mr. White, recent rumors say Isabelle has returned to the country. Will this affect the relationship between the White and Hart families?"

Sebastian's hand at my waist suddenly tightened.

He faced the cameras with a smile.

"The relationship between the White and Hart families depends entirely on my wife. Without her, there would be no current cooperation."

I cooperatively turned my head to gaze lovingly at Sebastian.

"This is my duty as Mrs. White."

We completed a perfect display of affection before the cameras.

Directly blocking rumors about divorce.

Flashbulbs went crazy.

At an angle no one could see, Sebastian's fingers lightly caressed my waist.

That was some kind of reward signal.

Connor tugged at my dress hem, muttering quietly.

"Mom, I'm hungry."

I looked down at my son, my heart softening.

"Be good, go to the back lounge."

I called over the nanny and crouched down to straighten Connor's bow tie.

"When it's over, I will take you for late-night snacks. We'll get your favorite strawberry cake."

Connor's eyes brightened. He obediently followed the nanny.

Watching my son's small figure disappear through the side door, I was about to stand when I caught something unusual in my peripheral vision.

The side door was originally assigned two security personnel.

Now, it was empty.

White family security never made such basic mistakes.

Unless someone deliberately drew them away.

"What's wrong?"

Sebastian noticed my stiffness and looked at me.

"Nothing."

I suppressed the unease in my heart, though my fingers unconsciously gripped my clutch tighter.

On stage, the host was passionately introducing.

"Next, please welcome Mr. Sebastian White and Mrs. White to the stage for remarks!"

Spotlights instantly hit us.

Thunderous applause.

Sebastian gallantly extended his hand. I took a deep breath and placed my hand in his palm.

Just as we stepped onto the stairs.

Sudden chaos erupted.

A white figure rapidly broke through the security line.

Isabelle wore an old-fashioned white gown, the hem yellowed, looking shabby and pathetic.

She stumbled and fell heavily at the edge of the stage.

Thump.

Through the microphone, this dull sound was amplified countless times.

Hundreds of eyes, dozens of cameras, instantly moved from us to focus on this intruder.

Isabelle lay on the ground, shoulders trembling, looking as fragile as wet paper.

She slowly lifted her head, that face pale as a ghost, but tears hung perfectly on her lashes.

She looked at Sebastian, her gaze mournful.

"Sebastian..."

Her voice carried through the microphone across the entire venue, trembling but crystal clear.

"Have you forgotten our anniversary?"

My hand instantly tightened, nails digging into my palm.

Sebastian stood beside me, motionless.

Media surged crazily toward the stage edge.

Flashbulbs merged into one blinding mass.

Isabelle knelt on the ground, ignoring my existence, staring straight at the cameras.

"I'm Connor's biological mother."

She cried with tears streaming down her face, but her voice carried a vicious edge.

"These seven years, someone stole my life."

The crowd below exploded.

Those who'd just smiled warmly at me were now whispering, their eyes full of excitement at the drama.

"No wonder Mr. White used to be so promiscuous. Turns out the one at home is a thief."

"The son's real mother came back. The stepmother really should step aside."

"Now there's a good show. She stole someone's things for so many years. It's time to pay the debt."

Isabelle crawled two steps forward, reaching out to grab Sebastian's pant leg, her fingers deathly pale.

"Sebastian, look at me. I'm your Isabelle."

Flashbulbs flashed wildly, casting Sebastian's cold face in a harsh white glare.

I turned to look at him.

He was frowning, his gaze passing over Isabelle to look at the PR director in the distance.

In that instant, something inside me froze.

How could I forget? To him, the White family's reputation always mattered more than my dignity.

I took out my phone.

Before I could do anything, the crowd erupted again.

"Let us through! Everyone move!"