Substitutee Marriage: Fallingg For My Ugly Wifee

As soon as he entered, Shera ran after him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“I still like you very much. Let me be with you, please. I will be gentler than Millie, and will love you more than she does.”

Marcus tried to pull her arms away, but she was wound so tightly around him like wires.

“Don’t push me away, please. I’m really tired. I’ve been waiting for you since you left Villa Imperiale. It was raining and cold, but I couldn’t go without seeing you.”

“Let go of me!” Marcus said coldly, his tone threatening.

Shera shivered involuntarily and released her grip on him.

Free of her, Marcus turned around and looked at her, a hint of annoyance on his face.

“I really don’t want to move. I advise you to behave yourself.”

Shera’s heart broke at his words.

He couldn’t be any clearer. He was ready to move if she kept coming here.

She said through sobs, “But I really like you. You’re the only reason I held on for these five years. And now that you have a health problem, you need someone caring by your side. I am the most suitable person for you now.”

Marcus was growing angrier by the second.

“You sure seem to have a high opinion of yourself.”

Shera swallowed. She felt like she had been dipped in an iceberg.

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

“You must have noticed that the Evans family has grown quite well in the recent years. This is my way of compensating for the guilt I felt when you had an accident in my car back then. As long as your father continues to do his job well, I will continuously provide support when necessary. I won’t stop just because you’ve returned.

You already know I’m married, and I have no intention of getting divorced in this lifetime.”

Shera pivoted gracefully and departed, her heart a canvas of conflicting emotions, torn like fragile parchment caught in a tempest’s embrace.

Contemplations swirled within Shera’s mind, unraveling the enigma of Millie’s character-a phantom thief who stealthily purloined the affection of her dearest beloved.

With a resonant thud, Marcus sealed the door behind him, ascending the staircase with a shadow cast across his eyes. The weight of his arm, akin to a solid stone, hindered his movement, as if the very sinews were woven of lead.

Amid the first Light of dawn, within the sanctum of Thomas Group, Trenton ushered forth an offering of coffee into the CEO’s chamber.

“Behold, Mr. Thomas, the elixir of morning sustenance.”

Tremors quivered through Marcus’ fingers as he collected the vessel of coffee, its bitterness mirrored in his thoughts.

His right hand, a tableau of discomfort, rebelled against the command to elevate.

“Miss Evans has transposed her presence to the realm of charity,”