The Replacement Wife: A Vow of Vengeance

“Mrs. Croft, tonight’s party was absolutely perfect.”

Ava Hayes tilted her head slightly, her lips curved into a well-measured smile—polite yet warm. “You’re too kind. The pleasure is ours to have you here.”

The speaker was a banker’s wife, dripping with jewels and smiling eagerly. Ava clinked glasses with her, exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then turned away with practiced poise. Her heels clicked crisply on the marble floor as she moved through the glittering crowd, her gown skimming the polished surface. Everywhere she passed, she received compliments and smiles.

She responded to each one, flawlessly.

Only when the last guest had departed and the manor’s great doors slowly closed, shutting out the noise, did Ava stop in the empty foyer. The crystal chandelier poured its light over her, enveloping her in a radiant glow. She let out a soft breath and felt the stiffness in her cheeks.

“Madam, shall I draw your bath?” the butler asked in a low voice.

“No, I’ll manage. You go rest.”

The butler bowed and withdrew. Alone, Ava gathered her skirts and climbed the stairs. The long corridor was lined with portraits of Croft family members from generations past; the painted figures gazed at this outsider who had married into their fold with the same reserved, distant expressions.

The master bedroom door stood ajar; warm yellow light seeped through the crack. Ava pushed it open and saw Julian lounging on the sofa by the window, scrolling through his phone. He had already removed his jacket and undone two buttons of his shirt, exuding a lazy elegance.

At the sound of the door, he looked up and smiled. “Finished?”

“Yes.” Ava walked to the vanity and sat down, beginning to remove her earrings. “The guests seemed satisfied—at least on the surface.”

“You did well.” Julian rose, came over, and placed his hands gently on her shoulders, leaning down to kiss her hairline. “My wife always arranges everything perfectly.”

She looked at him in the mirror, catching a fleeting glimmer of habitual tenderness in his eyes—as if completing a set routine. Something pricked at her heart, but she only curved her lips. “It’s my job.”

“Rest early.” Julian patted her shoulder and let go. “I have some documents to review. I may be late.”

“All right.”

He left the bedroom, the door closing softly behind him. His footsteps faded down the hallway, disappearing toward the study.

Ava sat alone at the vanity, staring at the face in the mirror—beautiful, proper, flawless. But behind the mask, her eyes held only a hollow weariness.

She picked up her phone and unlocked it.

In the inbox lay a new email from the Greenwood Reproductive Medicine Center. She stared at the subject line for a long time, her fingertip hovering over the screen, reluctant to open it.

Finally, she did.

“Dear Ms. Ava Hayes, thank you for trusting our center. Regarding your recent embryo transfer cycle, we regret to inform you…”

She didn’t read the rest.

The word “failure” cut through her heart like a dull blade, slowly and cruelly.

The phone slipped from her hand and landed on the vanity with a dull thud. Ava covered her face with both hands, her knuckles white, her shoulders trembling. The room was silent except for the ticking of the antique clock on the wall—tick, tock, like a hammer striking something.

After a long while, she lowered her hands and looked up again. The woman in the mirror had reddened eyes; her mascara was smudged, her flawless makeup cracked. She took a deep breath, pulled out a tissue, and carefully wiped away the traces at the corners of her eyes, bit by bit covering up the emotions that had spilled out.

Just then, the phone vibrated.

A name appeared on the screen—Seraphina.

Ava paused, then answered.

“Sis!”

A bright, light voice came through, tinged with a little travel fatigue and undisguised excitement. “Guess where I am?”

“…Don’t tell me you’ve already landed in London?”

“Bingo!” Seraphina laughed. “Just touched down, waiting for my luggage. How about I come see you tomorrow? It’s been so long—I miss you.”

Ava held the phone, her throat tight. She cleared her throat, trying to sound normal. “Of course. I’d be thrilled.”

“Deal! See you tomorrow! I’ve got a gift for you!”

“All right. Travel safe.”

The call ended. The screen gradually dimmed.

Ava clutched the phone, slowly turning her head toward the heavy night outside. The garden lights cast dim yellow halos in the darkness; beyond lay an endless black.

Suddenly, she felt that something was quietly approaching from within that darkness.