The Billionaire's Fake Wife, My Revenge

After three years abroad, I came home to surprise my secret husband, tech billionaire Gilbert Davis. He was finally CEO of his family's empire, and I believed our life together was about to begin.

The surprise was on me. The first thing I learned wasn't from him, but from the breaking news alerts: Gilbert was engaged to an influencer named Hayden Torres, his supposed long-lost love.

The world shattered when I saw her picture. She had my face. Then the truth unraveled, each piece more horrific than the last. Hayden was my half-sister. Our three-year marriage was a forged document, a cruel play he staged because I was a convenient substitute for the woman he was actually married to the entire time.

He wasn't just a liar; he was a monster. He lured me to a hospital under the pretense of care, only to reveal his true plan: to force me into a tissue transplant to save Hayden's life.

But as I lay in that hospital bed, a prisoner waiting to be harvested, I recorded a conversation that turned my grief into rage. They hadn't just stolen my husband and my future-they had murdered my mother.

They thought I was a victim they could discard. They were about to find out I was the architect of their ruin.

Chapter 1

Alexia Smith stepped off the plane, a cool breeze rustling through her hair.

She was back.

After three years in Europe, winning a prestigious architecture fellowship, she had returned to the city where her life was waiting to begin.

She clutched the small, velvet box in her pocket. It held a custom-designed ring, a perfect match to the simple band on her own finger. Tonight, she was going to surprise Gilbert.

Gilbert Davis. The tech billionaire whose name was on everyone' s lips. The man who had recently been named CEO of his family' s global tech empire, Davis Corp.

Her husband.

A husband no one knew she had.

For three years, they had kept their Las Vegas marriage a secret. It was his request. He said his position was unstable, that a public relationship would only invite unwanted scrutiny from his ruthless family and the media.

She had agreed. She loved him enough to wait in the shadows.

She had sacrificed her own burgeoning career in the States, taking the fellowship in Europe to give him the space he needed. She poured all her love and support into him, believing that once he secured his position as CEO, he would finally announce her to the world.

That day had come. He was the CEO. The waiting was over.

She walked through the doors of the architectural firm where she' d just started her new job. A colleague, Sarah, rushed over, her face flushed with excitement.

"Alexia, you won' t believe the news! The biggest gossip of the year!"

Alexia smiled, her mind still on the surprise she had planned for Gilbert. "What is it?"

"It' s Gilbert Davis! The Gilbert Davis!"

Alexia' s heart skipped a beat. She thought, for a wild second, that their secret was out.

"He' s in a relationship!" Sarah squealed. "With an influencer named Hayden Torres! He' s completely smitten. They say she' s his long-lost love, the girl who saved him when he was a kid."

The air left Alexia' s lungs.

The world went silent.

Her body froze, a cold dread spreading from her chest to her fingertips.

Hayden Torres. She knew that name. An up-and-coming influencer. But... long-lost love?

Just three days ago, Gilbert had called her. His voice was warm, full of a love she had never doubted.

"I miss you, Alexia. I' ll bring you home soon. Just waiting for a little while longer."

He had promised.

He had promised her a future. A public life. A family.

For three years, she had been his shadow wife, his biggest supporter. She thought that she knew everything about him, his favorite foods, his allergies, the way he liked his coffee. She knew the nightmares that woke him in the middle of the night and the childhood stories he' d never told anyone else.

And She had given up everything for him.

But now, he was with someone else.

"Come on, the chief editor is calling a meeting. We have to get the scoop on this. It must be the headline of the century!" Sarah pulled her towards the conference room.

Alexia stumbled after her, her mind a chaotic blur.

The large screen at the front of the room lit up. A picture of Gilbert Davis filled the space. His handsome face, the one she had kissed goodbye three years ago, was now plastered for her colleagues to dissect.

"Gilbert Davis, 30 years old, new CEO of Davis Corp..." her editor, Mr. Thompson, began.

Then, the picture changed. It was Gilbert, holding another woman. He was looking down at her with an expression of pure adoration, a look Alexia had only ever seen in her dreams.

The woman, Hayden Torres, was smiling, her face nestled against his chest.

"He' s completely changed for her," Mr. Thompson continued, his voice booming in the quiet room. "He used to be so cold and distant. Now he' s like a different person. A source told me he was insanely jealous three years ago when Hayden was seen with another man. He got drunk and disappeared for a night."

Three years ago.

The night he showed up at her apartment, soaking wet from the rain, reeking of alcohol.

The night he had kissed her for the first time.

The night their life together had supposedly begun.

A wave of nausea hit Alexia so hard she had to grip the edge of the table to stay upright.

It wasn't about her. It was never about her.

He hadn' t come to her that night out of a sudden burst of love. He had come to her because he was hurting over another woman.

A woman who looked shockingly like her.

"Alexia? Are you okay? You look pale," Sarah whispered.

Alexia shook her head, forcing the words out. "No... I' m fine. I just... don' t know him."

A bitter laugh threatened to escape her throat.

Don' t know him?

She knew him better than anyone. She was his wife.

"Well, you' re about to," Mr. Thompson said, pointing at her. "Smith, you' re on this. I want a full profile on their love story. Dig up everything."

The assignment was a cruel joke.

Suddenly, another colleague gasped. "Wait, pull up a clearer picture of Hayden Torres."

The screen shifted to a high-resolution photo of Hayden.

"Wait!" someone muttered. "Doesn' t she look a lot like Alexia?"

All eyes in the room turned to her.

Alexia' s gaze was fixed on the screen, on the woman who had her eyes, her smile, her face.

Her mind flashed back to that rainy night three years ago.

Gilbert had appeared at her door, drunk and heartbroken. He had stared at her, his eyes unfocused, and pulled her into a crushing embrace.

"Don' t leave me," he had whispered, his voice desperate.

She, blinded by a long-held crush, had let him in.

His lips found hers in the darkness of her apartment. It was her first kiss, and it was messy and desperate and tasted of whiskey and rain.

He pulled back, a smirk on his face. "First time?"

She had pushed him away, her face burning. "Mr. Davis, you're drunk. You should go."

He ignored her, pulling her back and kissing her again, deeper this time. She had melted. The cold, untouchable man she had admired from afar was here, in her arms.

That night, they became one. She thought it was the beginning of a fairy tale.

In the haze of passion, he had switched on the bedside lamp, his gaze tracing her features.

He had whispered a name, his voice thick with emotion.

"Hayden."

At the time, she thought she' d misheard. Or that he was just mumbling in his drunken state.

Now, the truth crashed down on her with the force of a tidal wave.

He hadn't been looking at her. He had been looking at a substitute. A stand-in.

The life she had built, the love she had cherished, the entire three-year marriage-it was all a lie.

She was just a replacement for Hayden Torres.

A vomit rose in her throat. She clamped a hand over her mouth and ran from the conference room, straight to the restroom.

She retched into the toilet, her body convulsing with the violent sickness of betrayal.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A message from Gilbert.

Happy Anniversary, my love. I have a surprise for you.

Her eyes fell on the article her colleague had pulled up on her phone before she ran. It was a profile on Hayden Torres.

"The beloved daughter of esteemed politician Harrison Torres..."

Harrison Torres.

Her biological father.

The man who had abandoned her and her mother for his mistress.

The man whose other daughter was named Hayden.

Hayden Torres was her half-sister.

The world spun, and Alexia collapsed onto the cold tile floor, the darkness finally taking her.

The night passed in a blur of sleepless agony.

Alexia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the image of Gilbert and Hayden burned into her mind.

The next morning at the office, Sarah nudged her playfully. "Didn't sleep well? Too excited about the big story?"

Alexia forced a weak smile. "Something like that."

She followed her colleagues to the city square. Her feet felt like lead.

Gilbert had organized a public proposal. A grand spectacle for the entire city to witness.

She saw him there, in the center of a heart made of roses. He was on one knee, holding a bouquet of red roses and a glittering diamond ring.

Hayden Torres stood before him, with joyful tears on her face.

"Hayden," Gilbert's voice, amplified by speakers, echoed through the square. "You are the only love of my whole life. And I've been searching for you all these years. So will you marry me?."

Hayden sobbed and nodded, throwing herself into his arms.

The crowd erupted in cheers. Cameras flashed, capturing the perfect moment.

Alexia turned around and walked away, the sound of the applause fading behind her.

Her phone buzzed. It was a message from Gilbert.

Something important came up at work. I'll be late tonight. Don't wait up.

Something important.

She looked back at the square, at the man she called her husband kissing his fiancée for the cameras.

The lie was so blatant, so cruel, it was almost laughable.

She followed the press to the engagement party. It was at The Seraphina, the city's most luxurious hotel.

The Seraphina. He had once told her he named it for her, that "Smith" was too common a name for something so beautiful. Another lie. It was probably named for Hayden.

She put on a mask and blended in with the throng of reporters.

Gilbert and Hayden walked in, hand in hand, basking in the adoration of the crowd.

Alexia's eyes were drawn to Hayden's neck. She was wearing a string of wooden prayer beads. They looked familiar, but she couldn't place them.

Alexia' s fingers trembled as she typed out a message to Gilbert.

I'm not feeling well. My head hurts.

She stared at the screen, a desperate, pathetic hope flickering in her chest. Maybe he would show a sliver of concern. Maybe he would remember her.

The message remained unread.

The air in the ballroom felt thick, suffocating. She needed to get out.

As she slipped into the hallway, she heard voices coming from a private room. Gilbert's voice.

"She's just a substitute. A stand-in until Hayden came back to me."

His tone was cold, dismissive.

"She's convenient. She looks like Hayden, and she's hopelessly in love with me. It made the waiting bearable."

Another man's voice, sycophantic. "So, the three-year marriage was a complete sham?"

"Of course," Gilbert scoffed. "Do you think I'd ever seriously marry a nobody architect? Hayden is my future. I can't let her know about Alexia. It would break her heart."

Her phone buzzed. A reply from Gilbert.

Take some medicine and rest. Don't be difficult.

The words were a slap in the face. Cold. Impatient. Annoyed.

Just then, Sarah grabbed her arm. "There you are! They're about to cut the cake!"

She was dragged back into the ballroom, a puppet on a string.

Gilbert and Hayden were on the stage, a magnificent cake before them.

He took her hand, the diamond ring sparkling under the lights. "To my one and only love," he said, his eyes fixed on Hayden.

Hayden leaned in and kissed him, a possessive, triumphant kiss.

The crowd cheered.

A reporter shouted a question. "Mr. Davis, there are rumors you were involved with someone else these past three years. Is there any truth to that?"

Gilbert smiled, a charming, dismissive smile. "There were people in my past, but none of them ever mattered. My heart has always belonged to Hayden."

The ring on Alexia's finger suddenly felt incredibly tight, a cold band of metal digging into her skin.

He had just publicly denied her entire existence.

That night, she sat in the dark, tears streaming down her face. She cried until her throat was raw and her eyes were swollen shut.

Then, she picked up her phone and dialed a number she hadn't called in years.

A gruff voice answered on the first ring. "Casey."

"It's me," Alexia whispered, her voice hoarse. "Alexia Smith."

A pause. "I've been waiting for your call."

"I need a favor," she said, her voice gaining strength. "I want you to erase me. Every trace of Alexia Smith. My identity, my records, everything."

"Consider it done," Casey replied. "But there's something else you need to know. Something about your mother."

"What about my mother?" Alexia asked, her heart pounding.

But Casey had already hung up.

A sharp pain shot through her temple.

The next morning, the news of Gilbert and Hayden' s engagement was everywhere. Their smiling faces mocked her from every screen.

She walked into Mr. Thompson's office, her face a stony mask, and handed him her resignation letter.

"What is this?" he asked, bewildered. "You just started. You have the biggest story of your career!"

"I'm leaving the country," Alexia said, her voice flat.

Her colleagues crowded around, trying to change her mind, but her decision was made.

She wouldn't be seeing any of them again.

She booked a flight to Las Vegas.

The city of cheap thrills and quick mistakes. The city where Gilbert had bought her a fake dream.

She went straight to the Clark County Marriage Bureau.

The clerk looked at the marriage certificate she presented, then typed her name into the system.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the clerk said, looking at her with pity. "This certificate is a forgery. It's not in our system."

Alexia snatched the paper back, her hands shaking. "That's impossible. We signed it right here."

"The certificate number is fake," the clerk said gently. "According to our records, on this date, three years ago, Gilbert Davis married a woman named Hayden Torres."

The floor seemed to drop out from under her.

Her legs gave out, and she would have collapsed if she hadn't grabbed the counter for support.

It was all a lie. From the very beginning.

He hadn't just found a substitute; he had orchestrated a completely fake marriage, a cruel piece of theater with her as the unsuspecting lead. While she was naively playing the part of his wife, he was legally bound to the woman she was impersonating.

The fake certificate slipped from her fingers, fluttering to the ground.

She remembered him giving her a pre-signed divorce agreement a year into their "marriage." He had called it a precaution, a way to protect her if his family ever found out.

She had been touched by his foresight, his supposed care for her.

Now she saw it for what it was: another layer of his sickening deception. He knew the marriage was fake. He knew she would never sign it because she loved him too much. It was a tool to keep her compliant, to ensure she never questioned her role.

She sank to the floor, gathering the worthless papers, and sobbed. She cried for the fool she had been, for the three years she had wasted, for the love she had given to a monster.

When she finally stumbled back to the apartment they shared, the one he had called their home, she found him sitting in the living room.

The table was set with her favorite dishes.

"Alexia," he said, standing up, his face a perfect picture of concern. "I was so worried. You weren't answering your phone."

He moved to embrace her, but she flinched away.

"I... I was just tired," she mumbled, avoiding his eyes. She couldn't let him see the truth in them. Not yet.

He tried to touch her forehead. "You feel warm. Are you sick?"

Again, she dodged his hand. "I just need to rest."

"Alright," he said, his voice laced with that fake tenderness she now despised. "I'll keep dinner warm for you."

She locked herself in the bedroom, her body trembling.

How could he be so good at this? The loving husband act. Had any of it been real? Had he ever, for a single moment, felt anything for her?

Or was it all just a performance?

She lay on the bed, her mind a maelstrom of pain and confusion. She needed answers. She needed to understand the depths of his betrayal.