"Zeke, was I just a substitute?" I asked, my voice trembling. "All these years, was I nothing but a replacement?"

But then again, he remained silent. And I took that as a 'yes' to my questions.

"It's over. The sooner you accept that, the better." Zeke's cold expression remained unchanged.

-

Discovering she was just a stand-in for her husband's ex, Vivienne Lancaster divorced billionaire Ezekiel Harrington. She signed the papers and walked out of his life, secretly pregnant with twins.

Years later, when Ezekiel's company was on the brink of collapse, he needed the help of the elusive and influential mystery designer Viatrix. Little did he know, the designer he had been chasing was none other than Vivienne—his ex-wife.

Vivienne had returned and she was ready to get revenge and reclaim her life, while Ezekiel had to face his past mistakes. Could he win back the woman he had taken for granted, or would he fail chasing the billionaire's substitute ex-wife?

My Billionaire Husband Wants A Divorce

VIVIENNE

As I sat in the conservatory of our mansion, I heard the distant babble of the home staff drift away. I had given them the rest of the day off.

Today was my birthday, but I was waiting for Zeke alone once more instead of celebrating.

I glanced at the small gift box on the glass table, accompanied by a bouquet of flowers which was delivered by Zeke’s assistant saying it was on my husband’s behalf.

The box was the same size as the ones I received over the years with no surprise.

I didn’t bother to open it. I bet it was the same gift he gave me last year and the year before that—a luxury car, just a different brand.

I was perfectly sure that it was only Zeke’s assistant doing his professional job. I did not even know whether Zeke remembered my birthday or if he just intentionally ignored my birthday for some reason.

I sighed and forced a bitter smile. Why was I still expecting? Ever since that incident happened, everything took a sudden turn for the worse between us.

Maybe, I just hoped today would be different, a chance to fix our relationship as Zeke had been distant and cold since when.

Neither of us wanted that to happen. Deep down, I thought I was the one to blame too. This realization only made the ache in my heart grow stronger day by day.

As the evening wore on, I resigned myself to the fact that Zeke wouldn't be coming home. It was late when I finally decided to head to bed, exhaustion and disappointment weighing heavily on me.

I was already asleep when the banging on the door startled me awake. Groggy and disoriented, I fumbled to turn on the bedside lamp. The pounding grew louder and more insistent. I hurried to the door, heart racing.

When I opened it, Zeke stood there, supported by his friend Andrew. Zeke’s eyes were bloodshot, and the smell of alcohol was overpowering.

“Finally,” Zeke spat, glaring at me. “What took you so fucking long?!”

“I’m sorry, I was asleep,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Andrew looked at me but didn’t say anything as he helped Zeke into the room. Zeke shook him off roughly, stumbling forward.

All of Zeke’s friends thought he deserved better. Although they never gave me a hard time, I knew they only showed politeness because of Zeke.

I was never truly accepted in their circle. Sometimes, I could see it in their eyes and hear it in their whispers when they thought I wasn't listening.

They believed I wasn’t good enough for him. The weight of their silent judgment added to the loneliness I felt in this gilded cage.

“Don’t forget Alex will be back tomorrow.” Before Andrew left, he reminded Zeke while had a confusing glimpse of pity at me but I did not pay enough attention to that.

My husband's usually composed demeanor was replaced by a disheveled appearance and the scent of alcohol clinging to his clothes.

But his drop-dead gorgeous looks were still noticeable. Yet, seeing him like this made me think that the man I fell in love with seemed so distant now.

Zeke opened his eyes and looked at me with longing for a moment as if he was looking for something through me. Soon, his green eyes turned sharp.

“Didn't I tell you I don't like when your hair is up?” His brows furrowed angrily as he removed my hair from a bun.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

His touch, once tender, now felt like control. My heart hammered so fast.

Then, my husband stated, “Take off your clothes.”

My eyes widened in utter disbelief. The intimacy I craved felt tainted by his anger and confusion.

I forced a smile, trying to hide my disappointment.

"Zeke, you're drunk. And I’m not in the mood—” I tried to argue but he already unbuckled his jeans and freed his hard shaft. It immediately stood proud, making me feel the heat. Still, I was not in the mood to do it.

“You don’t really think you could refuse me, right?” A sneer of scorn crossed his face.

“I thought you already knew your position. How could you still don't know how to behave?” His voice was faintly mocking.

“But—” Even before I said something, he already rose from the bed to be on top of me. I felt trapped, caught between my love for him and the fear of what he was becoming.

There was a great disparity of strength between us, and even my refusing seemed like another kind of welcome.

I soon surrendered to this rare intimate moment we couldn't have for some time. He raised the hem of my dress and made me bite it.

Kissing me aggressively, he parted my legs and positioned himself between them.

His right hand pinned both of my arms on top of my head while his other hand grabbed one of my breasts.

I let out a moan while he was kissing me because of the sensation he made me feel. Then when he got bored kissing me and squeezing my twin mountains, he fixed our position before he finally aimed his manhood at my sensitive spot.

“Z-Zeke—ahh!” My nervous caution turned into a moan as Ezekiel began to enter his long sword into my body. He kept groaning as he thrust in and out on me aggressively. I moaned in unison to his groans.

I was torn whether to stop him or to just enjoy feeling him inside me. The conflict between my physical desire and emotional pain was almost unbearable.

“Ezekiel, I’m cumming!” I gripped his arms which were firmly keeping my hips steady when I felt that I was about to reach my climax. His eyes darkened as he kept going faster.

“Ahh! Ahh!” I arched my back as I came and felt hot liquid from his member fill me.

My husband lay beside me as he relieved himself.

Somehow, bitterness crept within me. I must be silly to expect him to at least give me aftercare. But no. He acted like I was just merely an object to him.

“Take the pill after you clean yourself,” he said impatiently as he wore his clothes back.

My eyes welled up with tears because of his indifference as reality sank in.

He looked at me quietly without any feelings while I tried my best to steady my breathing in a misty of eyes but then his heartless words hit me harder like thunder exploded over my head.

“I want a divorce.”

The Other Woman

VIVIENNE

Zeke had disappeared after that day, and I chose not to contact him immediately, needing some time to calm down and think things through. Now, I was finally ready to talk to him calmly about the divorce.

Just when I was about to call him, I found pictures of Zeke and a woman all over social media. The woman’s face was hidden, only her back visible. My heart pounded as I stared at the images, recognizing the familiarity in their closeness. It was clear that that woman was important to him, and the sight made my stomach churn.

There they were, smiling and surrounded by friends who teased them mercilessly.

“Get back together already!” one comment read.

“You two are perfect for each other,” another one commented.

Then, I saw the comment from Andrew, one of Zeke’s friends: “You’re always better with her, bro.”

“Oh God.” I gritted my teeth as my heart broke.

In every photo, I could see the love in Zeke’s eyes as he looked at the woman. It was a look he had never given me, not once. The realization was like a knife to my heart, twisting deeper with every picture I scrolled through.

I was sure my husband had another woman, and that was probably the reason he wanted a divorce. The pictures of him with that mysterious woman, her back turned to the camera, only fueled my suspicions. The weight of it all was too much. I closed my laptop, the images of Zeke burned into my mind, and I collapsed onto the bed, my body shaking with sobs. The reality of my failed marriage and Zeke’s cold dismissal hit me harder than ever.

I had always known, deep down, that Zeke’s heart had never fully been mine. Now, seeing him together with someone else, seeing the way he looked at her with such love and adoration, confirmed my worst fears. I had tried so hard to make our marriage work, to be everything he needed, but it was never enough.

I was haunted by the images of them together. Zeke, on the other hand, seemed to be having a great time with another woman, completely indifferent to my pain. Despite my heartbreak, a tiny sliver of hope lingered within me. Maybe, they were just friends. Maybe, I was overreacting. But deep down, I knew I was only lying to myself.

Determined to understand the full extent of what had happened, I called Zeke several times as I left the mansion to go to his company. Just when I thought he wouldn’t pick up, the phone was answered.

"Zeke, where are you? When are you coming home?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but the desperation was clear.

There was a pause, then I heard it—a soft gasp followed by a muffled giggle.

“Kiel, your phone is ringing again.”

My heart dropped as I was sure I heard a woman’s voice in the background. He didn't respond immediately, but I could faintly hear him say, “Alex, it’s nothing important. Hang up is fine.”

The line went dead, leaving me staring at the phone in disbelief.

The realization hit me hard—Alex was a woman, and she was the one with him all these days. The gasps, the whispers, the cruel finality in his voice—all of it confirmed my worst fears. Zeke wasn't coming back, and he wasn't going to change his mind. He was with someone, and there was nothing I could do to change that. Images of them together, the way he spoke to her, and the way he dismissed me with such finality—all of it pointed to one undeniable truth. They were together, and he had chosen her over me.

I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Damn! I deserved more than this. I had the right to know the truth, to confront Zeke and demand answers. How could he end our marriage without a word, without giving me a chance to understand? I wasn’t just some stranger to be dismissed. I was his wife.

Driving to his company, my heart pounded. The closer I got, the more nervous I felt. I entered the building and stepped into the elevator. The ride-up felt like forever, and my hands were shaking. The elevator doors finally opened, and there they were—Zeke and the woman from the pictures. She was holding onto his arm, leaning close to him.

"Zeke," I called out, my voice shaking. He looked at me surprisingly and the woman also looked up at me with her meaningful eye that we finally faced each other.

What the...

My breath caught in my throat.

The shock hit me so hard that I couldn't speak at all.

There was a hollow ringing sound in my ears and all I could do was stare at the woman’s face.

It couldn't be true.

I'm Just A Substitute

VIVIENNE

I took one of my husband’s cars and drove to his company. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of anger and despair fueling my determination.

I just couldn't let myself stay still while my husband was disrespecting me. However, deep down in my heart, one of my reasons was that I wanted us to fix this too.

When I arrived, I stormed into the building. My steps were hurried and resolute. I even gained attention probably because of the evident anger in my expression but I didn't give a shit anymore.

I walked into Zeke’s company building, my heart pounding with determination. No one recognized me; Zeke had never brought me here or introduced me as his wife officially. Gathering up my courage, I approached the front desk, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I need to see Ezekiel Harrington. I’m his wife,” I said, meeting the receptionist’s skeptical gaze.

The receptionist raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

“Sure you are," she said sarcastically. "We get people like you every day. Sorry, but Mr. Harrington is a very busy man. You can’t just walk in and claim to be his wife.”

Frustration and desperation bubbled up inside me.

“I’m not just claiming! I am his wife. I need to see him now.”

The receptionist’s eyes narrowed, and she glanced at her colleagues, who were already whispering and casting curious glances my way.

“Look, lady, I can’t let you through without proper identification or an appointment. Now, please leave before we call security.”

My patience snapped.

“I’m not leaving until I see Zeke!” I raised my voice, causing a scene.

The whispers grew louder, and all eyes in the lobby turned toward me. Just then, the entrance doors swung open, and Zeke walked in, arm in arm with a woman whom I suspected to be Alex. My heart sank at the sight of them together.

"Zeke," I uttered my husband’s name.

His eyes widened in shock as he saw me. His face quickly turned into a mask of anger and frustration. He pulled away from Alex and stormed over to me.

"Vivienne, what are you doing here?!" he demanded. His voice was harsh yet cautious because of the commotion I created.

But I was really caught off guard by the woman’s face because… she looked like me.

What the…

The resemblance between Alex and me was uncanny, except she carried herself with an elegance that made my heart ache even more.

Then, I was brought back to reality when Zeke grabbed me inside his office but I wrenched myself free of him.

All my frustrations came back.

I didn't give a shit about dignity anymore. I didn't care if I was making a scene.

Tears streamed down my face as I confronted him.

“You answer me, Zeke! What are you doing with that bitch?!” I pushed my husband's chest. "I knew it. I knew something was going on. How could you do this to me, to our family?!"

“Don’t call her a bitch!” Zeke sided with Alex and it added fuel to the fire of anger within me.

That woman even had the nerve to look confused.

“What is she talking about, Kiel?” she asked Zeke and even called him by his nickname I never heard someone use.

Her audacity to act like this despite being the mistress here?!

I felt a surge of anger and heartbreak.

"So, this is why you wanted a divorce? Because of her?!" I turned to Zeke again.

Zeke rubbed his temples, clearly frustrated.

"Vivienne, you need to leave. This isn't the place for this discussion."

"No," I said firmly, my voice trembling. "We're having this discussion now. Why, Zeke? How could you do this to me? How could you do this to us?!"

My mind flashed back to the miscarriage I had suffered just months ago. The pain of losing our baby was still fresh, a wound that hadn’t healed. I had blamed myself, thinking maybe I did something wrong, but now, seeing Zeke with Alex, the betrayal cut even deeper. The thought of him finding comfort in another woman while I was grieving alone was unbearable.

“How could you, Zeke?” I cried out, my voice breaking. “We lost our baby not so long ago. How could you just find another woman at this time? Am I the only one who couldn’t barely sleep? Does our baby mean nothing to you? How could you do this?”

I was so upset and mad that I couldn’t speak rationally. The words tumbled out in a torrent of pain and anger.

“I thought we were in this together. I thought you loved me. But you’ve been with her, planning to leave me all along. How could you be so heartless—”

I could hear the whispers among people but I couldn’t care more.

If he was the one who betrayed everything of us, why do I still bother to protect his reputation?

“Shut the fuck up!” He cut me off harshly.

Zeke's jaw clenched, and he stepped forward, his eyes cold and determined. Just as I was about to respond, Alex moved to his side, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“Kiel, please,” she said softly, her voice soothing. She turned to me, her expression one of genuine concern. “Vivienne, I’m sorry for your loss. This must be incredibly hard for you.”

Her calm demeanor contrasted sharply with my hysteria, making me feel even more out of control. I hated her even more for it, for being so composed, so perfect. Her eyes met mine, and there was no malice there, only sympathy.

She was like a perfect version of me. Bullshit!

“I know this is difficult,” she continued, “but yelling and causing a scene won’t help. Maybe we can all sit down and talk this through calmly.”

Her words were like oil on the fire. How dare she speak as if she understood? As if she had any right to be involved in this conversation?

“Don’t pretend to care,” I spat, my voice shaking. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. You’re the reason my marriage is falling apart!”

“Vivienne, enough,” Zeke interjected, his voice firm. “You need to leave. Now."

He gestured to the security guards standing by the door. "Get her out of here."

"No! I need answers, Zeke. You owe me!" I tried to protest but it was futile.

Zeke waved impatiently, leaving no room for argument with a frown.

Feeling utterly defeated, I allowed the guards to escort me out of the office. As I was shooed out of the building, each step felt like a blow to my already broken heart. By the time I reached the car, I was shaking with a mix of anger, sadness, and disbelief.

How could this happen? How could the man I loved so deeply betray me like this?

My mind suddenly caught on, everything just clicked.

Zeke's distant behavior, his insistence on me not putting my hair up, the way he called me by a different name in bed—it all made sense now. He had never truly seen me. He was projecting his love for her onto me, trying to recreate a past that no longer existed.

I laughed at myself, the sound bitter and hollow, only watching them in shock.

It was laughable, really. I had spent time and effort trying to be the perfect wife, trying to make him happy, when all along, Zeke didn’t love me for who I was. He loved me for who I reminded him of.

As the security dragged me out of the building, I faintly saw Alex smirk triumphantly.

Am I just a substitute for her all these years?

What If I'm Pregnant Again?

VIVIENNE

I kept replaying the things that happened after my birthday but the doorbell rang. Wiping away my lingering tears, I hesitated before opening the door. To my horror, it was Alex standing there, looking as composed and confident as ever—the last person I wanted to see.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice barely hiding my shock and resentment.

"We need to talk, Vivienne," she replied firmly. Her tone wasn't harsh or degrading, but it carried an air of finality that made me uneasy.

I didn't intend to let her in, but something in her expression made me step aside. She walked inside, glancing around the house with a nostalgic smile.

"The house is still the same," she muttered, her voice softening. "So many memories here. And the tulips in the garden... They're still my favorite."

Was she doing this on purpose, or was she just clueless that saying those things would hurt me?

Clearly, she had a special bond with Zeke, one that I could never compete with. The way she talked about Zeke made me feel a pang of jealousy and bitterness.

"What do you want, Alex?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as I closed the door behind her.

She turned to face me, her eyes sincere, but every word that followed felt like a dagger.

"I want you to sign the divorce papers."

Wow. Just wow!

I felt a surge of anger and frustration.

"Why? So you can have him all to yourself?" I asked sarcastically.

Alex sighed, taking a step closer.

"Vivienne, I know this is hard for you to hear, but Zeke and I... we belong together. We always have. Our relationship goes way back, and it's something neither of us could forget or move on from."

"So what about me?" I countered, trying to steady my voice but it was breaking.

She paused with a hint of empathy in her eyes as if she cared so much about me, everything for my consideration.

"Clinging to a marriage that's already broken will only hurt you both more in the long run,” she said.

I shook my head, the tears welling up again.

"I love him, Alex. And unless he talks to me again, I won’t sign our divorce papers."

Alex stepped forward, her voice soft and seemingly considerate, but each word cut deeper.

"His heart has always been with me. You deserve someone who loves you fully and unconditionally, Vivienne. Don't settle for being second best."

Her words stung. I tried to pretend to be strong, but deep down, I knew she was right.

"I'm not signing anything until I talk to Zeke," I looked at her and stated firmly, trying not to leak my weak side.

I slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, the tears coming harder now. I cried silently, feeling the weight of my broken heart pressing down on me.

The hours blended into each other as I sat there, lost in my thoughts and tears.

The doorbell rang again, pulling me out of my daze.

"Zeke," I whispered, my voice cracking.

He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his expression tense and his eyes hard.

“You want to talk to me?”

I could barely meet his eyes.

"Vivienne, stop being stubborn," he snapped. "It's for the best. We both need to move on."

"Move on?" I echoed, my voice rising. "How can I just move on from everything we had?"

He scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Everything we had? Vivienne, we've been falling apart for a long time. This marriage is nothing."

"I can't believe you. After everything we've been through?" The tears started welling up in my eyes.

“Clinging to this marriage is only making things worse.” He said coldly and I couldn’t barely know him.

"What about the vows we made? What about the love we had?" I cried, desperation creeping into my voice.

My tears meant nothing to him and he just looked at me quietly.

"So this is all because of Alex?" I calmed down and asked, but the pain was still evident in my voice.

His another silence choked me. He impatiently checked his watch now and then as I was wasting his time.

"Zeke, was I just a substitute?" I asked, my voice trembling.

Zeke's eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he quickly masked it with impatience.

Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to comprehend all the facts.

"All these years, was I nothing but a replacement?" I asked in a hoarse voice. But then again, he remained silent. And I took that as a ‘yes’ to my questions.

"I can't believe this. After everything... I was just a substitute." My voice was laced with bitterness as I muttered my conclusion. And Zeke didn’t even bother to clear it up which only meant one thing—I was right.

"It's over. The sooner you accept that, the better." Zeke's cold expression remained unchanged.

“Is it because of the money?" He suddenly asked. His impatience was clear.

His words felt like a slap in the face. How dare he?! No matter who I was before marrying him, I never thought of marrying him because of his money!

"What?" I whispered, unable to believe what he just said. "You think I married you for money?"

"Why else would you hold on so tightly?" he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The pain of his accusation cut through me like a knife. How could he be so arrogant to even think of me like that?

I was so disappointed in him that I could barely argue.

He looked at me with cold eyes.

“If the money's not enough, I could give you more. Just sign the papers.” There was a deep frown between his eyes with a sullenness of impatience in his expression.

I was speechless, the final blow to my already broken heart. I had loved him and believed in him, but now I was nothing more than a burden to be rid of. I looked at him, searching for any sign that he still cared. But all I saw was a man who had already made up his mind.

Summoning all my courage, I muttered while he was leaving, "Zeke, what if I'm pregnant?"

"What did you say?" Zeke asked, his voice low and tense.

"What if I'm pregnant?"

She Signed The Papers

EZEKIEL

Vivienne’s lips curled into a bitter smile as she looked at me. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter anymore, Zeke.”

A dry laugh escaped my lips.

"Are you serious?" I asked, finding her words absurd. "Are you expecting me to believe that you might be pregnant?"

She flinched, the color draining from her face.

“This is a joke. A bad one. If you really are pregnant, then whose baby is it? We both know it can't be mine, not with the precautions we've taken."

Her eyes widened, a mixture of hurt and fury flashing across her face. I could tell she would be a great actress.

"You think I'd lie about something like this? You think I'd cheat on you?" she snapped, her voice laced with deep disappointment rather than anger.

I shook my head, a mocking smile playing on my lips.

"Oh, come on, Vivienne. Really? This is your big play? Pretending to be pregnant to keep me around? It's pathetic."

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her entire body trembling, but it wasn't rage that I saw in her eyes—it was an obvious sense of betrayal. I almost applaud her acting.

"You... you asshole," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You think you can just walk away and leave me with nothing but doubts and accusations? You're cruel, Zeke."

"Maybe I am," I admitted, my voice cold and uncompromising. "But at least I'm being honest."

She stared at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her expression a storm of emotions. The disappointment in her gaze was almost unbearable, a silent accusation that cut deeper than any words.

For a moment, I almost felt a pang of regret. But the damage was done, and there was no going back.

"I've given you everything you need to live comfortably," I continued, my impatience growing. "If that's not enough, if you need more to make this work, just name your price. But let's stop pretending this is about love."

Her face turned pale, and for a moment, I regretted my harshness. But the truth had to be said, even if it hurt.

"This is goodbye," I said, turning towards the door.

As I walked away, the realization hit me that I had crossed a line, and that the fallout from this confrontation would be severe.

As I got in the car, I couldn't help but think about all the years I'd spent with my wife. The memories, both good and bad, played in my mind like an old, worn-out movie.

I drove off, leaving the house and the confrontation behind, but the weight of it all stayed with me. Then, only a few minutes later, my phone rang. It was my assistant.

"Mr. Zeke," he began. His tone was professional but tinged with something I couldn't quite place. "The paper was signed."

An ironic smile crossed my lips.

I knew it. It was all about the money. I had called her bluff, and she had folded.

"I knew it," I said, more to myself than to my assistant. "It was always about the money."

As the words left my mouth, I felt a grim satisfaction. All these years, I'd suspected her motives. I had often wondered if she loved me or just the comfort I provided. Now, her signing the papers without a fight seemed to confirm my thoughts.

She had tried one last desperate move, pretending to be pregnant, thinking it would keep me tied to her. But I wouldn’t just fall for her childish trick.

"Actually, Mr. Zeke," my assistant continued, "there's something else you should know."

I sat up straighter.

"Vivienne, she didn’t take anything. No demands, no conditions. She just signed the papers and left."

I was stunned into silence. This was unexpected.

"She didn't ask for anything?" I repeated to myself, trying to process the whole thing.

"That's correct," my assistant confirmed.

I leaned back in my seat, a mixture of confusion and something else swirling inside me.

"Alright," I said finally, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears. "That will be all."

As I hung up the phone, I stared out the road.

The idea unsettled me more than I cared to admit.

Had I misjudged her?

But yeah. I don’t give a damn.

I don’t. Right?