My Husband Lost Me, His Billionaire Friend Wants Me

"Stand-in?" Elliot Burton made a short, contemptuous sound. "That's giving her too much credit. She doesn't come close to Lindsay in any way."

On the other side of that door, his wife, Rebecca Tucker, stood holding a tray of coffee. The words reached her before she had even touched the handle, and the color drained from her face completely.

Elliot kept talking inside the study, entirely oblivious to the fact that the door had drifted open just far enough to let every single word carry through.

Elliot tapped his cigarette over the ashtray and spoke with the kind of detachment one might use to discuss a piece of furniture. "She serves a function. She's legally convenient, physically available, and my parents are happy with her. That's the full extent of it."

"You know if Rebecca catches even a word of this, she'll fall apart completely," one of his friends said, grinning with the casual cruelty of someone who found the whole thing amusing. "Everyone knows she's completely gone for you. Meanwhile, your heart hasn't moved an inch from Lindsay."

Another friend leaned in. "So what happens when Lindsay comes back? Will you divorce Rebecca?"

Elliot turned the question over like it barely warranted the effort. "Why would I do that?"

"But Lindsay's the one you actually want," his friend pointed out.

"Rebecca does the job well enough," Elliot said simply.

She was mild-mannered, educated, easy on the eyes, and never pushed back on anything. When he had told her to leave her job and stay home, she had handed in her resignation the following morning without a single word of protest.

After that, she threw herself into looking after him and his entire family without being asked twice.

Even at this very moment, she was the one shouldering every last detail of his grandfather's funeral by herself.

Elliot drew on his cigarette and let the smoke out slowly. "Divorcing her makes no sense. I just need to make sure the two of them never cross paths."

"Lindsay lands the day after tomorrow," his friend reminded him. "And she's nothing like Rebecca. She won't just accept whatever you tell her. What happens when she finds out you're still married?"

"Everything I'm doing is for Lindsay's benefit," Elliot said. "Rebecca handles the cooking, the cleaning, all of it. That's not the kind of life Lindsay should have to live. That work is beneath her."

"Elliot, you have staff. A full household of them," his friend said, curious. "So why is Rebecca the one running herself ragged? Is this actually intentional on your part?"

Elliot took another long drag and exhaled with a sneer curling at the corner of his mouth. "You don't understand how this works. The more she pours herself into this house and into me, the more convinced she becomes that I'm completely hers. That's how women like her operate. The worse you treat them, the more devoted they become. No self-respect means no limit to what they'll endure."

Outside the room, Rebecca clutched the tray tighter. Their laughter reached her ears, quietly shattering something inside her.

Five years. She had given Elliot five years and had nearly lost her life for him, and he had never once looked at her as anything worth taking seriously.

She glanced down at the black outfit she was wearing for his grandfather's grief and almost laughed at how fitting it felt in a completely different way.

She had been running on almost no sleep for two straight days, handling every single thing for the funeral on her own, without once being asked if she needed help.

And now, in the only quiet stretch the evening had offered, she had been in the kitchen making coffee by hand, exactly as he had told her to.

Pain tightened around her chest, leaving her breathless as tears burned behind her eyes.

She swallowed everything down, stepped away from the door without making a sound, and walked away as fast as her legs would carry her.

The lights inside a bar pulsed and shifted, and on the floor, dancers moved in and out of the colors like they had nowhere else to be.

Rebecca was at the bar, slumped forward with her cheek propped in her hand, well past the point of being sober.

Her phone had been going off in her pocket for a while now.

She yanked it out, jabbed the power button, and dropped it back down. "If you can't stand me, why are you even calling?" she muttered to nobody in particular.

A woman's voice cut through the noise behind her, tight with urgency. "Has anyone seen Lily? The guest has been waiting! Where did she disappear to?"

"She was right here two minutes ago," someone called back.

"Then go find her!" the woman snapped, her voice dropping dangerously low. "Mr. Kolton Parker asked her personally to look after his VIP guest tonight. If this falls apart, every single one of us is going to hear about it."

Rebecca turned around on her stool, not entirely steady but still managing her manners. "I'm sorry, but would you mind keeping the noise down a little? It's quite loud."

"Lily?" The middle-aged woman behind her went rigid. Her disbelief lasted about half a second before her expression curdled. "What on earth are you doing sitting here getting wasted?"

She grabbed Rebecca's wrist without ceremony. "Move. Mr. Parker is waiting for you right now."

The pull was sharp enough to drag Rebecca off the stool entirely, sending her stumbling forward to catch her balance.

The alcohol had done its work, but she still had enough of her wits about her to know what was happening.

"You've made a mistake," Rebecca said, pulling against the woman's grip. "I'm not Lily. You have the wrong person."

"Don't waste my time," the woman said flatly. "I've known your face for years, Lily Flynn. Don't try that with me."

"Please, just listen to me. I'm not her." Rebecca's voice had taken on an edge of genuine alarm. "Where are you taking me? I need to go home."

The woman turned and flagged down two security guards standing nearby. "You two. Take her directly to Mr. Parker's private room. Now."

Drunk and barely on her feet, Rebecca was hauled into the private room by two large men who kept her propped upright in front of the group seated inside.

The room was poorly lit, and the table between them was crowded with high-end bottles of alcohol.

The men stared at Rebecca, glassy-eyed and barely able to hold herself up. One of them let out a contemptuous snort. "This is what you brought to impress Mr. Campbell, Kolton? Are you trying to insult him or just embarrass yourself?"

Kolton stared at Rebecca with a hard frown, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

Lily, the girl he had brought on just last month, was supposed to be his best asset tonight. She had innocent looks, real beauty, and more importantly, a rare talent for drawing men in.

He had told her repeatedly to show up looking sharp and ready. Finding her completely drunk was the last thing he had prepared for.

Kolton forced a smile, grabbed his glass, and got to his feet. He turned toward the head of the table. "Mr. Campbell, I sincerely apologize. I moved too fast and brought her here before she was ready. That's on me." He drank and pressed on. "But give her a moment to sober up, and I promise you won't be disappointed."

Ryan Campbell sat at the head of the table, legs crossed, drink turning slowly in his hand, looking at ease but missing nothing. His fingers were long and lean against the glass.

The dim light kept his face partially in shadow, but the quiet authority he radiated made everyone in the room instinctively sit a little straighter.

Ryan said nothing. As the silence stretched, Kolton's head dropped and his hand shook badly enough to nearly lose its grip on the glass.

Everyone had heard stories about Ryan, the Campbell family heir from Pliford, and his unpredictable temperament.

Pleasing him was nearly impossible. But earning his favor made everything else fall into place.

And crossing him came with consequences most people couldn't recover from.

There was a well-known story about a man who had once pushed his luck with Ryan. By the following morning, he and his entire family had disappeared from Pliford completely.

Kolton had seen Ryan's visit to Histead as a rare opportunity to get on his good side. Instead, he had managed to botch it before it even began.

Kolton silently cursed Lily. He clenched his jaw, silently vowing that if she destroyed his opportunity tonight, he would make her pay for it.

"I've had enough," Ryan said, setting his glass down and rising from his seat. "Enjoy yourselves. I'm leaving."

Kolton jumped in quickly. "Mr. Campbell, if she's not to your liking, I have other options. Women who are genuinely-"

Jayden Davies, Ryan's friend, put a hand on his arm before he could finish. "Drop it, Kolton."

Kolton pleaded, "Mr. Davies, please, put in a word for me."

"It's not that I won't help you. You had your chance and fell short." Jayden gave him a pat on the shoulder. "The fact that he hasn't lost his temper is actually a good sign. There may still be a chance for you down the line."

Kolton stood there helplessly as Ryan made his way around the table toward the door.

Kolton turned long enough to fix Rebecca with a cold, vicious look and then gave a sharp nod to the two men who had brought her in.

They caught on instantly. One of them shoved her toward the exit. "Move it."

Rebecca let out a pained sound.

She was already feeling sick, and the rough shove sent her stomach lurching badly.

They grabbed her and hauled her toward the door without any care.

Sharp cramps rolled through her stomach, and she twisted against their grip, fighting the nausea rising fast.

"Stop squirming!" one of them barked at her.

She couldn't hold it. She threw up.

A foul mix of alcohol and bile hit the floor, the smell hitting the room instantly.

And at that exact moment, Ryan had stopped walking.

Rebecca had thrown up directly onto his leather shoes.

For a moment, every person in the room froze. Only Rebecca looked better for it, the grimace gone from her face now that the worst had passed.

Ryan looked down at his shoes with a slight frown, then turned to survey the two paralyzed men and Rebecca with a flat, cold stare.

One of the men felt the cold shoot straight down his back. "S-sorry, Mr. Campbell!"

Kolton's face darkened with barely controlled fury. He rushed over, stripped off his jacket, and started wiping Ryan's shoes. "Mr. Campbell, I'm so sorry. Please don't be angry. I'll pay you double compensation for your clothes and shoes."

Rebecca cracked her eyes open. When she saw the state of Ryan's shoes, she looked up at him with a careful, sorry expression. "I didn't mean for that. They were throwing me around so hard I couldn't stop it."

Even in the low light, her clear skin and delicate features were easy to make out.

Ryan's eyes narrowed slightly. She was just as fresh-faced and beautiful as he remembered, striking enough that three years hadn't faded the memory at all.

Her head drooped forward again as the alcohol and exhaustion pulled her back under.

Then a voice cut through the fog. "Rebecca?"

Her head came up on reflex. "Who's there? Did someone say my name?"

The corner of Ryan's mouth lifted slightly. He reached out and tilted her chin up toward the light. "Lily?" A pause. "Interesting."

He pulled his hand back and glanced coolly down at Kolton, still crouched at his feet. "She leaves with me. Whatever you want for her, tell Jayden."

Kolton shot upright, visibly overjoyed, and kept bending at the waist in quick, grateful bows. "Thank you... Thank you so much, Mr. Campbell!"

Ryan glanced down at his shoes with clear irritation before turning on his heel and walking off without another word.

Kolton immediately gestured to his subordinates. "Move. Follow Mr. Campbell and bring Lily to him at once!"

Inside a hotel's presidential suite, Ryan emerged from the bathroom in a robe, only to find the bed empty where Rebecca had been moments ago.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he muttered, "She recovered from the alcohol already?"

Right after he spoke, a weak, pained sound drifted from the floor beside the bed. "Ah..."

Ryan stepped closer and found Rebecca trying to push herself up, one hand pressed to her head while the other supporting her weight. A faint, almost involuntary chuckle slipped from him.

Her strength had not yet returned, leaving her body unsteady and uncooperative no matter how she struggled.

Frustrated and dizzy, she reached toward the bed and called out weakly, "Elliot... give me your hand."

Ryan moved in without hesitation, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her upright.

The moment he tried to lower her back down, Rebecca unexpectedly shifted, faster than he anticipated, and looped both arms tightly around his neck.

Pulled downward, Ryan was forced closer until he was looking directly into her misty, tear-filled gaze.

Her voice broke as she looked at him, eyes trembling. "Tell me... did you ever truly love me at all?"

Ryan didn't respond. For a rare moment, he simply froze.

Tears began streaming down her face without restraint. Her lips quivered as she broke down. "If you never loved me, why didn't you just say it? I wouldn't have held on like this... Why did you let me fall this far?"

Ryan remained unmoving, his expression flat and unreadable, offering nothing in return.

When the man in front of her gave no response, it became clear to Rebecca-he had never loved her at all.

Still crying softly, Rebecca lowered her gaze and slowly let her arms fall away.

Then Ryan finally spoke, his tone turning sharp. "So this is what you're doing... throwing yourself away just to get revenge on Elliot?"

Rebecca lifted her head in confusion, still tearful. "What are you talking about... 'throwing myself away'?"

"Why did you go somewhere like that?" he asked coldly.

"What?"

Ryan calmly removed her arms from around him.

"Don't go!" Rebecca suddenly clung to him again, refusing to let go like a child throwing a fit. "You're going to see Lindsay, aren't you? I won't allow it! You're still mine-we're not divorced yet!"

Ryan's brows tightened slightly, a brief flicker of regret crossing his mind that he hadn't sent her straight back to the Burton Estate.

"I'm not your husband. Let go," he said, clearly losing patience.

"You are! Until we divorce, you're still my husband!" she insisted stubbornly.

As he tried once more to free himself, Rebecca suddenly grabbed his face and pressed her lips against his.

Ryan went completely still.

In that split second of hesitation, she hooked her legs around his waist, pulling him down until he was forced onto the bed with her.

Her kiss deepened recklessly, the taste of tears lingering between them as she clung to him. Her hands moved urgently, tugging at his robe in a desperate blur.

Ryan's breathing tightened sharply as he caught her wrists.

A moment later, his body reacted despite him, his breath turning uneven as a low sound slipped out unwillingly.

Grabbing the back of her neck, Ryan pulled her back slightly, his voice rough. "Rebecca... do you even understand what you're doing?"

Sniffling softly, she answered without hesitation, "Of course I do."

"Look at me carefully. I'm not Elliot," he reminded her.

The more he rejected the idea, the more shaken she became-yet she still clung to him. "I don't care. Even if you're not him... I still want you."

Ryan let out a quiet, almost amused breath, his expression turning serious. "You'd better be sure about that... because I won't allow you to regret it later."

Rebecca didn't answer. Instead, she broke free and kissed him once more without hesitation.

Ryan's eyes darkened slightly. Without breaking hold of her, he lifted her and carried her toward the bathroom.

...

The following morning, Rebecca woke up to a pounding headache that split her head.

The instant she shifted, soreness spread through her entire body as though she had been completely drained.

She inhaled sharply. "It hurts..."

Slowly opening her eyes, she instinctively reached to the side, searching for the familiar presence she always expected. "Honey..."

Before she could finish, her gaze landed on a stranger beside her. She froze, gasped sharply, and immediately pulled away in panic.

Sitting upright, she stared at Ryan, still asleep beside her, her thoughts completely short-circuiting.

She had no idea what had happened.

She couldn't understand why a man she didn't know was in bed with her instead of Elliot.

Before she could make sense of it, broken flashes of last night rushed back into her mind.

She remembered going to a bar to drink... then being taken away after someone mistook her for an escort. Everything afterward was blank.

She slowly looked around the room, and horror spread across her face as she covered her mouth.

The realization hit her-someone had slept with her, believing she was a paid escort.