The Substitute Bride

Debts And Dirty Deals

Back at the Reigns mansion, Chloe’s legs screamed. She’d been standing for thirty minutes, head bowed, hands clasped, after apologizing to Liam for endangering Blaze. Liam hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t looked up from the documents on his desk. Hadn’t acknowledged her existence. Her ankles throbbed. Her wrists, still wrapped from the airport fight, ached under the bandages. Maybe the first apology wasn’t enough. Maybe she had to bleed more. She swallowed and tried again. “Mr. Liam, I’m deeply sorry for endangering your brother’s life. It won’t happen again. I’ll be more careful in the future.” She bowed lower, spine protesting. “There won’t be a—” _Grin. Grin. Grin._ Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Loud. Violating the silence. Liam’s eyes flicked up. Cold. Finally. Chloe fished it out, hands trembling. “Hello?” “Am I speaking with Chloe Adams?” A man. Rough. Impatient. “Yes.” “Chester Adams is at our bar. He owes us $470,000. He said to call you. You clear his debt.” Chloe’s stomach dropped. “$470,000… what? I don’t have that kind of money. I don’t have _any_ money.” “You’ve got eight hours. Bring the cash, or we chop off your father’s hands. Your choice.” “Please, wait—” _Click._ The line went dead. Chloe stood there, phone pressed to her ear, knuckles white. Her father. Chester Adams. The man who sold her childhood piano for poker money. The man who hadn’t called once since Rose’s funeral. _How selfish. How greedy. How am I his daughter?_ Tears burned. She forced them back. _Not now. Not here. Chloe, get it together. Pitiful doesn’t pay debts._ She slid the phone into her pocket and raised her chin. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Liam. I have an emergency that needs my urgent attention.” Another bow. She turned and walked out, back straight, steps measured. She didn’t run. Not until she was past the doors. --- Liam listened to her footsteps fade. Then: “Come in, Blaze.” Blaze stepped out from behind the marble pillar, arms crossed. “How’d you know I was there?” Liam gave him _the look_. The one that said _don’t insult me_. Blaze huffed. “Right. How could I forget. Liam Reigns, master of the Mafia world. Sees all, hears all.” Liam ignored the jab. His jaw ticked. “She’s mine.” “Obviously. You married her.” “No.” Liam’s eyes were flint. “She’s a _Reigns_ now. Not Adams. And no one touches what’s mine. No one bullies my wife.” He stood. “Except me.” Blaze raised an eyebrow. “Possessive much?” Liam was already reaching for his phone. “Get Richard. I want the name of every bar Chester Adams frequents. And I want Scorpion’s head. But first…” His voice went quiet. Dangerous. “We remind the world that Chloe Adams doesn’t exist anymore.” --- *Café Lumière, 3:17 PM* Chloe stirred her untouched tea. The bell above the door hadn’t stopped jingling since she sat down. Normal people. Normal lives. Daisy slid into the booth across from her, two cappuccinos in hand. She took one look at Chloe’s face and sighed. “Are you gonna live like this, Chloe?” Chloe gave a bitter smile. “What choice do I have, Daisy?” Daisy pushed a cup toward her. “Alright. I’ll support you. But you promise me one thing: no more secrets. I might not fix it, but we carry it together. Deal?” “Deal.” Chloe squeezed Daisy’s hand. “Actually… I need your help.” “With what?” “Do you know any fast way to make money? I need a lot. Urgent.” Daisy tapped her nails on the cup. “Uhmm. My brother’s friend Harry works at the Imperial Club. He said they’re desperate for waitresses. Pay’s $250,000 a night.” Chloe choked on air. “$250,000? A _night_?” “And if you get picked for the VVIP section? I hear it’s double. Maybe triple. Rich men, big tips.” Chloe’s eyes lit up. Actual, physical dollars practically reflected in her pupils. “Are you serious?” “Give me a minute.” Daisy stood, already dialing. “I’ll call Harry.” “Take two,” Chloe called after her, hope cracking through the despair for the first time in days. Five minutes later, Daisy bounced back in, grinning. “Guess what!” “I’m bad at guessing. Tell me!” “You start tonight. And Harry said some big shots are booking VVIP. You might get picked.” Chloe shot up and hugged her. “Cheers to that!” They clinked cups, foam sloshing. Then Chloe remembered. She sank back down, guilty. “I’m so sorry about your car. I—” “Stop.” Daisy waved it off. “Insurance will handle it. Cars can be fixed. You can’t.” Chloe stared at her. After everything — the marriage, the scandal, the mess — Daisy was still here. No scolding. No _I told you so_. Just… here. Her throat tightened. “Thank you, Daisy. For not leaving. For… for being you.” “Aww, come here.” Daisy rounded the table and pulled her into a hug. Warm. Real. “We’re bffs, dumbass. That’s forever.” They stayed like that, holding on. Then they paid, left the café, and stepped into the late afternoon sun. Tonight, Chloe Adams would walk into the Imperial Club. Not as an actress. Not as a wife. As a waitress with $470,000 to earn. And eight hours to do it. ---