Substitute Wife For The Billionaire.

Let Go Of Me, Husband. (I)

GERALD

Though the argument had left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, I found myself occasionally smiling at the memories of it and everything Rosaline had said. She handled the situation way differently than I had thought and picked herself up right after.

And that begged the question, was I wrong about her? It seemed as though my initial impression of her being a pushover who'd do anything to please the people close to her was flawed. Rosaline, at that moment, appeared to me like a woman who'd been forced into the shadows for so long; now, she was fighting to be seen.

I couldn't possibly know what it felt like to be in her shoes, but the hurt etched beneath those eyes seemed to cause a weight to sink into my chest. She didn't have to say much for me to see her pain, though I wasn't concerned about it.

That was what I told myself. I couldn't afford to be intrigued by the sister of the woman I loved, and everything would stay on the surface as it should be. Perhaps I could have a conversation with her parents as I wasn't aware that Rosaline didn't know the basis of this marriage.

Even her parents must think of her as a tool. It was sad, really. I stroked my chin as my elbows rested on the counter, the papers still sprawled atop the table. I left them there to continue going over the rules of the contract.

The only reason Rosaline didn't flare up to the intensity she wanted must have been because she knew her family was going to take the hit for her actions. Poor little thing. This marriage was the most inconvenient thing I'd ever dived into. Even though, during Julie's lifetime, I was hesitant to marry her, the idea of it didn't sound bad.

It was entirely different with Rosaline. With her tantrum from today, my eyes were opened to a more fiery side of her. It piqued my interest and had me budding with curiosity. And I tell you, that wasn't good for either of us.

My phone vibrated off the table, alerting me of a call from my secretary. I reached for it immediately, and pulled out of my thoughts to face the problems plaguing my reality.

"Smith, is there a problem?" I asked as I raised the phone to my ear, wishing with every part of me that there wouldn't be any. All I wanted was a hint of progress concerning the case that had the whole company on their toes.

"Good morning, boss. No, there isn't. Good news, actually. There's been a new development in the imposter's case," He declared, and I exhaled deeply, tense. "I think we have a lead."

A sense of relief washed over me, and I pursed my lips in anticipation of a response, feeling a wave of anxiety crawl up into me from my toes.

"The account from the last 'heist' was looked into again by our private investigators, and they found that there's another account linked to its name, and it is right here in the USA. However, it is under an alias, but some credit card activities from the account were traced to a bar here before it went off the radar."

"Here?" I pinched my brows together, surprised.

"Exactly, boss," He responded from the other end. "The perpetrator might be closer than we think. I'd be sending some of our-"

"Send me the address," I blatantly requested, tightening my jaw. "Fast."

"It could be dangerous. I suggest we-"

"Now."

The imposter's case had been the main problem faced by Bert fashion industry over the course of two years and had soiled our reputation in more ways than I'd expected.

Two years ago, a website with the same dynamic as ours popped up. It was the first well-programmed duplicate that anyone had ever seen, not to mention, all the items on our carts were duplicated on theirs too.

It wasn't an easy task to take it down as it was heavily secured with encryptions, security coding practices, and strong access control. When our security team was able to flag it down through hacking, the damage had already been done.

A lot of our prestigious customers had already made purchases on the website and had paid into the dummy, untraceable offshore account provided on the website. I was able to foot the loss of nine hundred and fifty-two thousand dollars in order to retain our reputation and process each customer's respective orders, but the culprit was never found.

Not to mention, a week ago, we found out that the website was up again with a better firewall, and this time, flagging it down seemed like it was going to be a more difficult task than the last time. The most disappointing fact was that the public couldn't hear about this.

The moment they did, there'd be a crash in our reputation, which would directly lead to a loss of credibility, and our demand rate would hit the floor. Who was I without Bert fashions? Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I listened to Smith say the address.

I recognized it immediately, one of the biggest bars in this state. "On it."

"Be careful, boss," Smith rushed before I disconnected the call and raced back to my room to get decent.

It wasn't an occasion that required a suit, a jacket, or even a tie, but at the end of the day, I found myself dressed like the same work robot. You really couldn't take the habit out of the man.

Despite all these, somewhere at the back of my mind was that tiny image of Rosaline, and I found that I'd been shoving down my worry. I needed to know where she was. After all, she was my wife.