The Substitute Wife's Revenge

Rachel’s POV “I didn’t push her, I swear, I didn’t, Vincent… I would never—” “Enough.” His voice was ice, slicing through my frantic words. Vincent’s eyes pinned me where I stood, unyielding, merciless. “It was only the two of you in this room. No one else. So who else could it have been, Rachel?” He shifted Camilla higher in his arms, his jaw tight with fury. She looked so small against him, her face pale, lips quivering as if she were fighting for strength. The sight made my stomach twist violently. The sight of blood always made me queasy and seeing so much of it was making me feel lightheaded. I dug my nails into my palm, the stinging pain helping to keep me tethered to consciousness. “Why isn’t the rescue team here yet?” Vincent snapped, his voice a thunderclap in the hall. His glare swept over the staff who had gathered, watching the horror unfold with wide eyes and low murmurs. A tall, lean young man stepped forward, his phone still pressed to his ear. He lowered it quickly and bowed his head. “Sir, they’re on their way. Five minutes.” “Tell them to hurry!” Vincent’s face darkened. He pressed Camilla closer to his chest and lowered his head to speak softly to her, the tenderness in his voice sliced through me like shards of flying glass. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay. Help is on the way…” Her only response was a weak whimper and Vincent held her even closer, tenderly stroking the top of her head, his fingers running through the light blonde strands. He lifted his head and glared at me with undisguised rage so intense my lungs seized up. Instinctively my hands flew to my throat and I let out a gasp of pain. Panic clawed at my chest, ripping what was left of my heart into shreds. “What the hell is the matter with you?” he shouted, his words cutting deep. “How could you do something so evil?” I shook my head frantically, eyes wide in panic. “It wasn’t me, I would nev-” “Then who did?” Vincent thundered and I flinched at the venom laced in his tone. “A ghost? Next thing you’ll claim she threw herself down the stairs, right?” I could only stare at him, helpless, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the unintentional irony in his words. My mind wandered back to the events that had led to this disaster, the scene still horrifically fresh in my mind. I was heading downstairs, intending to take a walk to clear my head but Camilla waylaid me at the top of the stairs, her beautiful face marred by a sly, mocking smile. I let out a sigh, tired of having to pretend I was not affected by the sight of my husband showering care and attention on her while he treated me with cold indifference. I let out a soft sigh and tried to brush past her, but she blocked my way. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her lips curved in a smile that no one else ever seemed to see for what it truly was. “Rachel, Rachel” she began, her tone light, taunting me. “You look upset. What’s the matter?” I didn’t bother to respond. We both knew full well why I was upset and I knew she just wanted to mock me for it. Unfazed by my silence, she laughed. “You poor thing. It must sting having to watch your husband be affectionate with me, right?” She took a few steps forward and leaned in to whisper, “Does it hurt, knowing his heart belongs to me?” I pursed my lips and took a few steps back. Her words sparked a glare of defiance in my chest and I couldn’t help but retort. “You can do whatever you like, Camilla. I don’t care. At the end of the day, I’m the one who’s married to him.” I made to walk away, but her arm shot out and closed over my wrist in a tight, painful grip. I raised my eyes to meet hers, seeing the ugly expression that had come over her face as she glared daggers at me. “You think mere words on a piece of worthless certificate is enough to bind him to your side?” She hissed, her voice low enough to just be heard by the two of us. “You stupid, naive fool. Tell me, don’t you ever wonder who Vincent would choose if it came down to the two of us?” I stiffened, feeling the bite of her nails digging into my skin. “Let go of me, Camilla.” But she only tilted her head, eyes shining with a malice masked as innocence. “You already know the answer, don’t you? He’s never once looked at you the way he looks at me. You can feel it, can’t you? That gnawing emptiness?” Her words struck like daggers, carving into places I had tried so hard to keep hidden. She stepped closer, her perfume sickeningly sweet. “Do you want to see it for yourself? Who he truly cares about?” I shook my head because deep down, I already knew the answer, but I was still in denial. “No, I don’t care.” Her smile turned sinister and she let go of my wrist. Suddenly, she stepped back, opened her mouth and let out a piercing cry. “No! Rachel, stop!” With that same sinister smile still in place, she lurched backward. Her body tumbled down the short flight of stairs, the sickening sound of a body hitting a hard surface, echoing in my ears. I blinked hard, dragging myself out of the memory and back into the present. In the distance, I could hear the sirens signalling the arrival of the rescue team. “Even if you admit it was an accident, that you didn’t mean to push her, that’s better than outright lying.” Vincent said, still glaring daggers at me, the words forced out through clenched teeth. “I swear I didn’t do it.” I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. “She did th-” “She is lying, sir. I saw her push Camilla,” All eyes swung towards Wicker, Vincent’s assistant. “I overhead Rachel accusing Camilla of acting shamelessly towards you. Then she pushed her down the stairs.” My breath caught. “No!” I cried, staring at him in disbelief. “That’s not true! You’re lying!” But Vincent didn’t hesitate. His eyes darkened, turning to ice as they fixed on me. “Are you really that jealous, Rachel?” His voice cracked with disgust. “Camilla is carrying Wyatt’s child. My brother’s child. And still you - ” He cut himself off, his jaw tight with restrained fury. “Where’s that damned ambulance?" My tears spilled over, anger and frustration mingling with disbelief as I stared at my husband and scoffed. “You would rather believe Camilla than I, your own wife, right?” Camilla whimpered softly in his arms, her pale hand clutching at his shirt like a lifeline. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his movements gentle, almost reverent. He lifted his head and glared at me, hatred burning through his gaze. “If anything happens to her or the baby,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “I will personally hold you responsible. Do you understand me, Rachel?” The paramedics rushed in just then and Vincent ignored me, his entire focus on the injured woman. He held her hand as she was lifted onto a gurney and wheeled out. Numbly, I followed them, watching the scene unfold like a twilight dream. He climbed into the back of the ambulance, still holding her hand. Just before the doors closed, he beckoned to one of his men. “Keep Rachel in the courtyard until I say otherwise,” he ordered, without giving me a look. “She’s not allowed to set foot inside or leave the premises without my permission.” I opened my mouth to protest, but the doors slammed shut. Miserable, I stood there, staring as the car moved away, my hands unconsciously moving to cradle my belly. “But I’m pregnant too,” I whispered, “I’m carrying your child, our child, yet you treat me worse than dirt, a puppet with no feelings. You cherish another woman and her child but not me…what did I do to deserve this from you, Vincent?