My Replacement Wife

CHAPTER 5

Valeria Richardson had spent two weeks behind bars for assault, a consequence of her involvement with the Sinclair family. It was their way of exacting revenge for the minor burns Elena had sustained on her back—an echo of the burns Valeria had endured on her hands while trying to rescue Elena from a fire. Those burns had since healed.

On her first night in jail, Valeria had been allowed a single call. She dialed her mother's number, seeking to reassure her, but only a neighbor answered, informing her that her mother, bedridden due to Valeria's actions against the Sinclair family, couldn't speak. The neighbor had saved her mother's life by calling emergency services, yet her mother remained in fragile health, burdened by shame and disappointment in her daughter's choices.

Sharing a filthy cell with two brawling cellmates, Valeria found some solace in the absence of physical violence. It was a meager comfort, but she clung to it nonetheless.

One Tuesday morning, a visitor arrived—unexpected and unfamiliar. None of Valeria's friends knew of her imprisonment, and her mother was incapacitated. Elena Sinclair, radiant and poised, entered the room with an air of regality. She commanded attention with every step, her attire and demeanor exuding confidence and power.

"Valeria Richardson, come closer," a guard instructed, leading her forward with handcuffs. The seating area provided minimal comfort, a stark contrast to Elena's elegance and demands.

"I'm not sitting there," Valeria retorted, eyeing the faded seats with disdain.

"Then stand, princess," the guard quipped, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Elena, undeterred, proceeded with her visit. She produced papers from her Gucci bag and pushed them across the table. "It's the divorce papers. Sign them."

The word "divorce" struck Valeria like a blow, causing her to tremble and tears to well in her eyes. "Why hasn't he come?" she whispered, her voice fraught with pain.

"What do you expect from Adrien?" Elena countered, her tone cool and dismissive. "You were just his employee and a ward of my parents. Why would he bother visiting you here? Sign the papers. It's for the best."

Valeria hesitated, her gaze falling on the signature line where Adrien's name awaited. Signing would mean closure—but would it truly end everything?

Valeria's hand hovered over the papers, uncertainty gnawing at her. Would signing truly bring closure, or would it merely be the beginning of a new chapter filled with regrets and what-ifs?

Elena watched her intently, her demeanor unwavering. "You know what's best for everyone, Valeria. Just sign," she urged, her voice a mix of impatience and superiority.

Valeria glanced up, meeting Elena's gaze with a mixture of defiance and resignation. "And what about him?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Does he even care?"

Elena's expression softened imperceptibly, a flicker of sympathy crossing her features before she regained her composure. "Adrien has moved on, Valeria. It's time you did the same," she replied, her tone tinged with finality.

With a trembling hand, Valeria reached for the pen, her heart heavy with the weight of her decision. She knew that signing those papers would mark the end of a chapter in her life—one filled with pain, betrayal, and shattered dreams. But perhaps, just perhaps, it would also pave the way for a new beginning—a chance to rebuild and rediscover herself.

As she placed the pen to paper, her hand steadied, determination settling over her like a cloak. With a decisive stroke, she signed her name, sealing her fate and setting herself free from the chains of the past.

The guard, who had been silent throughout the exchange, took the papers from her trembling hands and nodded in approval. "It's done," he declared, his voice devoid of emotion.

And with those words, Valeria felt a surge of mixed emotions—relief, sadness, and a glimmer of hope for the future. She may have been imprisoned for her past actions, but in that moment, she found a measure of liberation—a chance to forge her own path and reclaim her life, one step at a time.

"How would he escape from that prison?" Valeria pondered. If she was no longer of value to the Sinclairs, and moreover, no longer Adrien's wife—now the new Mrs. McKenzie—wouldn't they devour her alive?

She turned to gaze at Adrien's signature.

"Where's your so-called promise? We were supposed to be married for a year, but..." He discarded his words, just as she had anticipated. "They take me for a fool. All of them. They see me as nothing but a tool to exploit, to trample upon, to beat, and even to spit upon. If I sign those divorce papers, no one will rescue me from this prison. But if I proclaim that Mrs. McKenzie languishes in this foul, urine-soaked cell, they'll pay more heed to Valeria McKenzie than to Valeria Richardson. How can you expect me to sign when you pledged a year? Now I'll be reduced to the role of a husband-stealer, the one who betrayed the Sinclairs, the woman worth less than a stray, mangy dog. No, I won't do that to myself."

"Tell Adrien that if he wants me to sign the divorce papers, he should come and ask me himself. Did those two weeks of honeymoon help you rid yourself of the baby you carry, the one who isn't Adrien's?" She watched Elena's face pale, realizing that Valeria was privy to her secret.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Valeria. Adrien won't step foot in this place just for you to sign the divorce papers."

"Well, I won't sign them. Excuse me, guard. I want to end this visit." Valeria rose and exited with the guard. Their handcuffs were removed, and the cell door closed behind them.

Ten minutes later, Adrien McKenzie stood before the cell.

I definitely wanted that divorce to land her in this place.

"Do you want to enter, or shall we bring her out?" the security guard inquired.

"You needn't bother. I'll speak to her from here; it'll only take a moment."

"Very well, sir."

The two other women incarcerated with her, noticing the handsome man they addressed as sir, approached Valeria.

"Why is that lovely lady coming to see you, and now this handsome man?"

"He's my husband," Valeria admitted, and the women were astounded.

"Well, go speak with him!"

"Don't keep him waiting, are you crazy?"

"Not yet." The last time he witnessed her humiliation and did nothing. Now it was his turn to make the first move.

Adrien stared at her with eager eyes, anticipating her plea for his assistance, but Valeria simply observed him without flinching. No, she wouldn't yield. This was a silent duel between them, and it remained to be seen who would emerge victorious. The victor would be the one who had to concede.

"Valeria," Adrien Mckenzie finally spoke, reluctant to spend another minute in that place reeking of urine and filth. "Let's discuss the divorce."

The two women watched in astonishment as Valeria won the initial round against the formidable man observing her from behind the bars.

She rose, her buttocks aching from the unyielding wooden seat, her breath sour—she was aware of it, so she kept her distance from Adrien.

"Why have you come here?" he asked, reluctantly.

"I want you to sign the divorce papers. It should never have come to this; let's expedite matters and part ways."

"We were never together," he asserted. "There's nothing to dissolve."

"You'll sign the divorce papers?" she pressed.

"I say—" the new Mrs. McKenzie is locked in a squalid cell, alongside two wretched prostitutes who incessantly bicker, fondle each other at night, and consume my rations. Who needs to know about this for the media to take notice? Look at me, am I in any condition to sign divorce papers? No, I reek, I can't sleep, and I'm famished.

"So, if I get you out of here, you'll sign the papers?" Adrien looked perplexed.

"You're not comprehending, Adrien." He gritted his teeth at the sound of his first name. "I am your wife, the most valuable possession you have, the one you vowed to honor, and you're casting it aside like refuse. Didn't you promise we'd be married for a full year?" She glanced at her cellmates. "Girls, don't put stock in a wealthy man's word; it holds no value and they dispense it like it's gold. It's better when they communicate with money; their word means nothing."

"That's the truth! They make promises they never fulfill!"

"They're despicable. Like sewer rats!"

Hearing the women deride his word, Adrien lost his composure, grasping the filthy bars and advancing toward them.

"My word is as good as I declare it to be, and it holds significant value. But—"

"Oops! Mr. McKenzie! He's about to dirty his hands," Valeria jeered, joined by the other women, who began to curse the affluent man with empty promises.

"Shut up! My word holds more weight than the lives of the three of us combined! A year with you will feel like a thousand years, filled with anguish, but it will be far worse for you," he declared icily. He retreated, and moments later, Valeria was released from the cell.

She was free.