The Substitute Wife Returns

Chapter 7 - Cracks in the Mask

Ariana’s POV

Morning came too quickly.

I didn’t even remember falling asleep.

For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, disoriented. The soft sheets beneath me, the unfamiliar scent in the air—it all felt distant, like I was in someone else’s life.

Then it hit me.

The wedding.

The mansion.

Damien.

My chest tightened instantly.

I sat up slowly, my head spinning slightly as I adjusted to the light streaming through the curtains. My body still felt weak, heavy… like I hadn’t rested at all.

Of course I hadn’t.

How could I?

I turned my head toward the couch.

Empty.

A small crease in the cushion was the only sign he had been there.

He was already gone.

I exhaled softly, not sure if I felt relieved… or unsettled.

Before I could think further, there was a knock on the door.

My body tensed.

“Come in,” I said, trying to steady my voice.

The door opened, and the same elegant woman from last night stepped in, followed by two maids carrying trays.

Her sharp eyes scanned me—quick, observant, missing nothing.

“Good morning, Madam.”

Madam.

The word still felt foreign.

“Good morning,” I replied, forcing a small smile.

She gestured, and the maids stepped forward, placing trays neatly on the table—breakfast, tea, neatly arranged clothes.

“Mr. Blackwood has a schedule today,” she said. “You are expected to accompany him.”

My fingers tightened slightly around the bedsheet.

“Of course,” I said, nodding like Alina would.

Her gaze lingered on me for a second longer than necessary.

Studying.

Measuring.

Then she spoke again.

“Your preferences seem to have changed.”

My heart skipped.

“I’m sorry?”

She tilted her head slightly. “Breakfast. You used to avoid tea in the morning.”

Shit.

My mind raced.

Think. Think. Think.

I let out a small, soft laugh, forcing ease into my voice.

“Ah… I suppose I’m trying something new.”

Her expression didn’t change.

If anything… she looked less convinced.

“I see.”

The silence that followed was uncomfortable.

Heavy.

Then she gave a small nod. “Very well. You have one hour to get ready.”

And just like that, she turned and walked out, the maids following behind her.

The door closed.

I exhaled sharply.

That was close.

Too close.

I pressed a hand against my chest, trying to calm my racing heart.

This isn’t going to be easy.

Not even a little.

Getting ready felt like preparing for war.

Every movement had to be calculated.

Every expression controlled.

I studied myself in the mirror, adjusting my posture, my expression, my gaze.

Alina.

Not Ariana.

Confident. Composed. Untouchable.

I practiced her smile.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

By the time I stepped out of the room, I felt like I was wearing a second skin.

Uncomfortable… but necessary.

Downstairs, the atmosphere was already active.

Staff moved efficiently, voices low, footsteps quick.

And then—

I saw him.

Damien stood near the entrance, already dressed, his presence commanding as always. A few men in suits stood nearby, speaking to him in low tones.

Power.

Control.

That was what he radiated.

One of the men said something that made him glance up—

And his eyes met mine.

Instantly.

Like he had been aware of me the entire time.

My steps faltered for just a second before I forced myself to continue walking.

Smile.

Calm.

Don’t break.

As I approached, the conversation around him slowed.

All eyes shifted to me.

Judging.

Observing.

Waiting.

I stopped beside him, just close enough.

“Good morning,” I said softly.

His gaze didn’t leave my face.

“Morning.”

Short. Flat.

But his eyes…

They were searching.

Again.

Always searching.

One of the men smiled politely. “Mrs. Blackwood, it’s a pleasure.”

I nodded slightly. “Likewise.”

My voice stayed steady.

Thank God.

Damien spoke without looking away from me. “We’re leaving.”

That was it.

No explanation.

No room for questions.

He turned and walked out.

I followed immediately.

The car ride this time was different.

Quieter.

Tenser.

I could feel it.

His attention.

Even without looking at him, I knew—

He was watching me.

Studying every movement.

Every breath.

It made my skin prickle.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I turned slightly.

“What is it?” I asked softly.

Silence.

Then—

“You’re nervous.”

Not a question.

A statement.

My fingers curled slightly. “It’s my first official outing after the wedding. Isn’t that normal?”

His gaze didn’t waver.

“For you?” he said slowly.

That single sentence sent a chill down my spine.

I forced a small smile. “People change.”

His lips curved slightly.

But there was no warmth in it.

“Not that much.”

My heartbeat quickened.

He leaned back slightly, still watching me like I was a puzzle he intended to solve.

“Tell me something,” he said.

My chest tightened.

“What?”

He tilted his head slightly.

“Your favorite place.”

My mind went blank.

What?

“Excuse me?”

“Your favorite place,” he repeated calmly. “You’ve talked about it enough.”

Panic flickered.

I didn’t know.

I didn’t know anything about that.

Think.

Think.

I swallowed.

“The… beach,” I said carefully. “I like the calm.”

Silence.

Too much silence.

Then—

A soft, almost amused exhale.

“Interesting.”

My stomach dropped.

Why does that sound wrong?

He leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping just enough to make it feel personal.

“Because the last time I asked Alina that…”

My breath caught.

“She said she hated the beach.”

My heart stopped.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

Couldn’t move.

I had slipped.

And he caught it.

Completely.

I forced myself to speak, my voice quieter now.

“…People change.”

Weak.

Too weak.

His eyes darkened slightly, locking onto mine.

Then he leaned back again, creating distance—but not releasing the pressure.

“You’re right,” he said calmly.

A pause.

Then—

“But not identities.”

My chest tightened painfully.

The rest of the ride was silent.

But this time—

It wasn’t just tension.

It was war.

And I had just made my first mistake