Rebirth Of The Substitute Wife

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Raindrops pattered against the window, blurring the city's stunning lights. Aurelia clutched her shoulder, her brows furrowed in distress, but not a sound escaped her lips. Her shoulder jutted out unnaturally, in desperate need of medical attention, but her eyes were dazed as she stared at the bottom of the spiral staircase.

The woman whose face looked uncannily like hers lay unmoving on the marble floor, not a drop of blood marring it. A bright light assaulted her eyes, making her squint right as thunder rolled through the sky, seemingly shaking the house. The large front door pushed open, and a figure rushed in.

“Jianna!” Luther yelled, rushing to the woman’s aid. He knelt beside her, cradling her in his arms before looking at the top of the stairs with thinly veiled wrath.

A shudder rolled through Aurelia. Clearly, it was her, Aurelia Cromwell, who was Luther’s lawfully wedded wife. Yet, here he was, holding her full-blooded older sister like she was a precious treasure.

“I don’t feel well…” Jianna whimpered. She tightened her hold on Luther’s arm, pulling his attention back from Aurelia.

“Did she push you down?” Luther questioned, his neck craned, looking her over with concern.

Jianna jerked her head to the side, an unconvincing act that left people wondering what the real story was. The hesitation and fear in her eyes painted the perfect picture. Aurelia had pushed her down the stairs; that was what her body language screamed.

Aurelia felt her heart drop. She shook her head, unable to form the words to defend herself.

Luther looked up, the tender concern he displayed metamorphosing into rage as he looked at the woman who had hurt his beloved Jianna.

“I warned you not to hurt her, but you never learn,” he sneered. “Do you know what happens to those who hurt my people?”

How could she not know? Aurelia had married into the family, knowing that the Beckett family was not a simple family of businessmen. Their real power lay underground, fishing in dangerous waters and building a fortress that no one else could penetrate. Their means were ruthless, and to those who hurt their family and loved ones… hell lay in wait.

“I didn’t do it,” she whispered hoarsely, but no one heard her.

Luther reached under Jianna’s knees and pulled her up. He stood up, holding her bridal style. The fierce glare he sent Aurelia’s way sent a shiver down her spine.

She flinched back, his gaze too terrifying to hold.

“Take her to the basement!” he commanded to no one in particular.

Aurelia’s eyes widened, and she pushed herself off the railing, scrambling to the top in the hope she could escape. Her hopes were dashed when she felt a hand clutch onto her dislocated shoulder and pin her down.

“Let me go!” she yelped.

She tightened her grip on the railing as two men dressed in black pulled at her ruthlessly. Her forearms ached with effort, and her fingers slipped as she was ripped away, her body bumping into the staircase as they dragged her down. Her sobs were drowned out by the sound of the rain and the panicked whispers of the servants calling for the doctor.

Of course, their concern was not for Aurelia.

Luther would lose his mind if Miss Jianna were seriously hurt. But what about Aurelia? What about her bruised ribs and despair? What about Jianna’s victorious look as she tipped backwards and gently landed at the end of the staircase, unscathed?

.

The dingy basement reeked of rotting cardboard and untold horrors of those that crossed the Beckett family. Aurelia’s eyes had long adjusted to the darkness, yet she couldn’t understand how the Becketts still kept the glorified dungeon in the middle of the bustling city.