4: A PLACEHOLDER
1806 Words
VERA
Margaret didn’t speak once during the ride home.
She only watched me.
Rose and Mrs. Smith carried most of the conversation, their laughter light and effortless. Margaret only spoke when she was directly addressed.
The rest of the time, she watched.
And typed.
Her expression stayed perfectly neutral, but her fingers moved quickly over her phone screen.
The debt might not have been as bad as I expected.
Or maybe I was the one underestimating it.
Either way, I couldn’t afford to be wrong again.
The clock was ticking.
This time, I needed to be certain before I made a move.
Margaret’s hand remained wrapped around the large pearls resting against her collarbone. Her fingers tightened and loosened, over and over, as if grounding herself.
Or restraining herself.
By the time we dropped of her friends and reached the house, it was already dark out.
Kristien, my head chef, had already prepared dinner. Mashed potatoes and steak.
Two things I could live without.
Still, I took my seat at the table, stretching my lips into the widest smile I could manage.
Margaret wasn’t the kind of woman who missed details. The stare she gave me in the car. The way her eyes lingered at the dress shop.
She was connecting the pieces.
“Mother?”
Julian’s voice cut through the room.
“Oh, look there,” Margaret said, rising from her seat across from me.
Our eyes met for a split second before mine shifted to his face.
A faint red line traced the side of his cheek. A mild bruise curved along his lower lip. He hadn’t even bothered to clean it properly.
He flashed a weak smile, subtly lifting his hand as if to shield it.
Too late.
There was something else.
A dark stain on the sleeve of his shirt.
“Oh dear,” Margaret gasped, hurrying to him. “What happened to you?”
“It’s nothing.” He gently removed her hands and pulled out the seat beside me. “Hey,” he whispered.
“Hi.” Scent of his cologne drifting toward me made my stomach tighten. “Is everything okay?” I nodded toward his lip.
“Jace and I had a boxing spar.”
“Boxing?” I raised a brow.
“Went a little too hard.” He brushed his fingers over the bruise, almost defensively. “It’s fine.”
Julian hated boxing.
He hated anything that required him to measure strength against another man.
He preferred working alone.
My gaze flickered over him once more.
I nodded and looked down at my plate.
Not the first lie.
Definitely not the last.
For most of the dinner I kept my back straight and pressed my fork into the plate while Margaret laughed at almost everything he said.
“Vera, I heard your academy will be performing at the Swan Lake showcase.”
“Yes.” The last time, I hadn’t been able to attend. The honeymoon had stretched longer than planned.
“How do you plan on juggling that with your businesses, the honeymoon, and a husband?” Margaret asked lightly.
“I’ll help out,” Julian said before I could answer. “I’m already a businessman. It’s only fair I oversee my wife’s company while she’s away.”
His hand brushed my thigh under the table.
I inhaled sharply.
“Oh, you don’t have to.” I calmly removed his hand from my leg. “I have competent people handling things. Julian already has enough on his plate.”
Margaret tilted her head. “Still, it would be better having family involved. Soon you’ll be with child and—”
“We’re not planning on having children anytime soon.”
Julian’s hand stiffened instantly.
“No kids—?”
“We’re going to take a few years for ourselves first,” I cut in smoothly before Margaret could finish.
“Isn’t that right, babe?”
I didn’t look at him.
On our first date, he had been the one to say it. No children until we were stable. Until we were ready. Until we were in the right headspace.
“Y-yes,” he replied after a beat.
Margaret studied us both.
“Oh.” She gave a soft chuckle. “Having children is your decision. I would never force you to do something you don’t want.”
If I didn’t know her, I might have believed that.
Dinner ended shortly after.
Margaret said her goodbyes and left.
I turned toward the stairs.
A hand clamped around my wrist.
Before I could react, my back hit the wall.
For a second, I couldn’t breathe.
Last time, there had been no witnesses. No one to hear me. No one to step in.
This time, the hallway lights were still on. Staff moved somewhere in the distance.
Julian leaned in, the pleasant mask gone.
“Have you signed the prenup?”
My pulse steadied.
“What prenup?”
The irony almost made me laugh.
I had been the one to suggest it before our first wedding. He shut it down a day before the ceremony.
“If we ever divorce, everything I have will already be yours,” he had said with that charming grin. “If you leave me, then I must have failed as a husband.”
And now?
“No,” I answered calmly.
His fingers tightened slightly. “Why not?”
I held his gaze. “Do you love me?”
His jaw flexed. “Of course. Why else would we be getting married?”
“Then a prenup is just paperwork, isn’t it? Since we’re going to be together forever.”
Silence.
His eyes darkened.
“The prenup isn’t for me,” he said. “It’s for your protection. I just want to make sure—”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” My voice didn’t shake. “I trust you. You wouldn’t break my heart again, right?”
The word again hung between us.
Last time, I trusted him blindly.
Last time, I let him isolate me.
Last time, I stayed silent.
Julian’s expression hardened.
Without warning, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to my neck.
Old me would have melted.
This time, my skin crawled and my body jerked before I couldn’t even register it.
“We agreed,” I said evenly. “We wait until marriage.”
“The wedding is in two days,” his grip now sliding to my waist.
Disgust rose fast and sharp.
“Still no.”
I shoved him.
He didn’t move.
“I’ve arranged an expensive honeymoon. Paid for this entire wedding,” he said, irritation breaking through. “Isn’t a kiss the bare minimum you can give me?”
There it was.
Not love.
Transaction.
He grabbed my wrist again.
The memory flashed.
The raised hand. The stumble. The cold floor.
“I said no.”
My voice rang louder this time.
Footsteps echoed from the adjacent hall.
“Miss Jacobs?” Frank appeared first. “Is everything alright?”
Julian’s grip loosened instantly.
His smile returned like it had never left. “We’re fine.”
I pulled my hand free.
“We’re fine,” I repeated, meeting Frank’s eyes deliberately.
Julian’s gaze burned into me.
“I have something to handle,” he said tightly.
I didn’t wait for he to step back, I pushed past him heading straight for the stairs.
Last time, he never pushed like this before the honeymoon.
Last time, he waited. He made sure I was fully his before he let his monstrous side out.
This time, he must be very desperate.
I stood under the shower longer than necessary.
I scrubbed until my skin turned pink. Until the scent of Julian’s cologne faded. Until the thought of his hands on me felt less real.
It still lingered.
By the time I returned to my room, I couldn’t see his car from the windows. Which could only mean one thing.
Julian had left.
Good.
I slipped into bed and reached for my laptop, dust clung to the edges like a reminder of how careless I had been last time.
I logged in and began going through everything.
Emails. Transaction records. Investment portfolios. Every account tied to my name.
Unlike before, I wasn’t blinded by love.
If the Valmonts were drowning in debt, I would not be dragged down with them.
Hour after hour passed.
Most of the expenses were harmless. Gifts for Julian. Donations. Transfers I barely remembered approving.
Still, I called my lawyer.
Then the bank.
I moved the majority of my liquid funds into my parents’ foundation and trusts that only I controlled. Reassigned access rights. Changed authorizations.
Layer by layer.
Protection first. Questions later.
When I finished, I adjusted the security on all my devices. Two-step verification. New encryption keys. Backup drives.
If he was desperate enough to push for a prenup now, something was collapsing.
And I needed to be ahead of it.
I was about to shut the laptop when a headline caught my eye.
Has Kelly Peters Found Love?
My chest tightened.
I should have ignored it.
I didn’t.
The first image loaded.
Kelly curled into a man’s chest. His face blurred. Her smile bright. Soft.
At least she wasn’t tangled in sheets this time.
I clicked the next photo.
My lungs emptied.
I was already on my feet before I realized it.
The mirror reflected a pale version of me. My fingers lifted to the necklace resting against my collarbone.
I stared.
Same chain.
Same setting.
Same delicate cut.
Only hers held a pink diamond.
Mine held a clear stone.
Smaller.
Duller.
Cheaper.
A quiet laugh slipped from my throat.
So that’s what I was worth.
A replica.
A placeholder.
Julian never loved me.
I was simply convenient.
I unclasped the necklace slowly and let it fall onto the vanity.
This time, I didn’t cry.
I walked out of my room.
The house was dark, silent.
I moved through it easily. I knew every corner. Every creak of the floorboards.
The office door opened with a soft click.
Nothing looked different.
But something was.
I powered on the computer.
The screen flickered.
Password required.
Locked.
That had never happened before.
I tried his birthday.
Wrong.
His mother’s.
Wrong.
Our anniversary.
Wrong.
My own birthday.
Wrong.
Each failed attempt tightened something inside my chest.
I exhaled slowly.
Think.
Not as his fiancée.
As the other woman.
My fingers hovered above the keyboard.
My pulse thudded in my ears.
No.
It couldn’t be that obvious.
Unless he never thought I’d look.
My hands were steady when I typed it.
Eight digits.
I pressed enter.
For a split second, nothing happened.
Then—
Green.
Access granted.
The password was Kelly’s birthday.
Not mine.
Not our anniversary.
Hers.
- Writer
