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Substitutee Marriage: Fallingg For My Ugly Wifee

A name spoken in such a hazy state of consciousness spoke volumes about its
bearer’s significance in his heart.
Rhea had pieced together Marcus’ intentions the moment he gravitated towards
the elevator.
His room here was no secret to her; she had visited it in the past.
She arrived at the other end of the corridor via a separate elevator, counting her
lucky stars.
Fate smiled upon her again as she encountered a cleaning lady nearby.
Recognizing her as Marcus’ friend, the cleaning lady, unsuspecting of Rhea’s
intentions, permitted her entry to retrieve some files for Marcus before
proceeding with her own chores.
“Why have you fallen silent?”
Marcus’ patience was fraying at the edges. The woman in his arms was like a
refreshing oasis in the scorching desert of his desire, extinguishing the fervent
heat coursing through him.
Yet he restrained himself, clinging to the last vestiges of rationality. He was aware
that Millie disliked him taking liberties with her, and he didn’t want to risk her
disdain.
But the drug-induced frenzy was taking hold of him; his hand was moving of its
own accord, seeking out the contours of her face.
Her features were soft and velvety under his touch, but a creeping sense of
discrepancy began to nag at him. Millie’s nose was more pronounced, and her
chin was less pointed and more rounded.
A sudden unease pierced his heart, prompting him to gather his wits and bellow,
“Who are you? Speak up!”
Rhea was taken aback but bit her tongue, choosing to press closer to Marcus’
rigid frame.
Speaking would betray her identity and shatter her carefully constructed illusion.
How could Marcus still possess some semblance of reason? Shouldn't he have
succumbed to his urges and disregarded everything else?
In the subsequent moment, Rhea found her chin imprisoned in a vice-like grip as
Marcus thundered, “Who are you? If you persist in your silence, I shall end your
life.”
Rhea experienced the excruciating pain, unable to fathom how Marcus, under
the influence of the drug, possessed such remarkable strength. Her chin
throbbed relentlessly, as if on the verge of being crushed under the force of his
grip.
“Marcus... it's... me,” she barely whispered.
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Recognizing the voice, Marcus thrust
her away, his words echoing through
the room with a thunderous rage.
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“Rhea, is it truly you? Leave, now! I have no patience to entertain you,” he
roared.
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The force of his push sent Rhea
crashing onto the floor, her body
aching as if shattered into a
thousand pieces. But Marcus was
unsympathetic. He ordered her out,
his voice a harsh whip in the dark.
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“out!”
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Despite her aches and pains, Rhea
managed to rise, clutching at her
resolve. She once again threw herself
at Marcus, her voice barely a whisper,
: “ )

pleading, “Marcus, don't cast me

5 ”
aside. I know you need me now.” The
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the latest chapter there!

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