001"She’s just your stand-in."

“Vivian, you’re finally back! I thought I had lost you forever.”

“Damian, I can’t forget how good you once were to me. I think we can start over. We've wasted ten years; we shouldn’t continue to waste our beautiful youth.”

The man on top of the woman had golden curly hair. His features were hazy, but his outline was striking.

He panted as he pushed her legs apart to fit himself inside.

“I love you, Vivian,” Damian roared, losing himself in passionate thrusts.

Suddenly, my phone slipped from my hand and fell to the floor. I jolted awake. What just happened? Did I just dream that my husband Damian was cheating on me? I tried to recall the woman from my dream; she looked just like me.

“Amelia, you should go back. You look tired; please get some rest,” Damian’s grandmother said seriously, looking at me.

“Okay, Grandma. I’ll go check on Damian.”

Hansen Manor.

As I walked into the bedroom, I heard Damian’s deep, affectionate voice.

“Vivian, she’s just your stand-in.”

Vivian giggled, “What a pathetic girl. If she knew you loved me, I bet she’d cry enough to flood the bathroom.”

Damian's tone was dismissive.

“She’s just a high-end toy my grandmother found for me to replace you.”

A high-end toy?

Chilled to the bone, I instinctively crouched down, my back pressed against the cold marble wall. It was just a dream, wasn’t it? Why was there a real woman named Vivian?

The conversation I dreaded continued to seep into my ears.

“So, when are you getting a divorce?”

Vivian’s voice was playful and sweet.

Damian hesitated, his tone filled with a softness that I found ridiculous.

“Amelia hasn’t done anything wrong. I just don’t know how to bring it up with her.”

Vivian’s voice turned icy.

“So, you want me to be your mistress? Don’t forget, she’s the fake.”

“No, no, no, I don’t love her, but it’s hard to explain that to my grandmother. After all, Amelia is her favorite.”

“Your grandmother was so determined to tear us apart that she looked at me like I was a cockroach. Now it’s unbelievable that she actually likes my replacement!”

Damian tried to calm her down, but I was beyond calm.

I shoved the door open with a force that slammed it against the wall, creating a loud bang.

“Who the hell are you calling a fake? Don’t forget that I’m Damian’s wife!”

I was so furious that I forgot my manners and shouted.

Vivian, completely naked, jumped in surprise and complained, “Didn’t you say she wouldn’t be back today?”

Damian coldly replied,“Amelia, is this how you were brought up?”

Vivian rolled her eyes and leaned weakly against Damian.

“Your wife is giving me a heart attack.”

Damian gently helped her up and then turned to me with a stern expression.

“Apologize to Vivian.”

Vivian’s seaweed-like hair draped over Damian as she nestled into his embrace, throwing me a challenging look and mouthing,

“You’re a fake. You’re a copy.”

A surge of anger shot through my mind, and I swung my hand at her.

Damian blocked me, grabbing my wrist and pushing me back.

“Please, know when to stop!”

My back hit the wall, and it felt like every breath I took was tainted with the taste of blood in my throat.

At fifteen, Damian's grandmother took me out of the orphanage, and that’s when I met Damian. I married him at twenty, loving him deeply despite his occasional mood swings. After all, he was handsome, with a physique rivaling top models, and he was never a playboy.

It wasn’t until my twenty-third birthday that I realized God was playing a cruel joke on me. I was nothing more than a replacement!

I looked at Damian in disappointment.

“You want me to apologize to her? To a homewrecker?”

Damian frowned, his handsome face showing anger.“

Vivian isn’t the homewrecker; technically, you’re the one who doesn’t belong here.”

“If it weren’t for your grandmother’s affection, I would never have married you!”

“Do you have any idea how lucky you are? You, an orphan, have lived in our upper-class household for eight years, enjoying a life most can only dream of. You even get to call yourself Mrs. Hansen. You should be grateful to me, Amelia.”

Damian's voice softened from being cold to almost gentle.

“And Vivian has had to study alone in Sweden after her family went bankrupt. No one helped her, and even then, she didn’t seek out a boyfriend to support her. She has suffered a lot for me, and I need to make it up to her.”

This was absurd!

My lips trembled, rendering me speechless.

Damian continued,

“Please apologize to Vivian immediately, or—”

“Or we get a divorce, right?” I collected myself, standing tall and smoothing out my skirt, fixing a determined gaze on Damian.

“Then let’s get a divorce.”

Damian looked clearly shocked.

“What are you talking about? Don’t try to be unreasonable.”

Vivian chimed in with interest, “If you leave Damian, how will you maintain your lifestyle? Damian, why not give her some extra money?”

I was so furious that my mind became crystal clear.

“Aren’t you the one who just said you didn’t know how to explain things to your grandmother? I can handle that. You just need to answer me—when are we getting a divorce?”

At fifteen, I arrived at the Hansen estate, where Grandma took care of me, enrolled me in school, and supported my interests in piano, martial arts, diving, and anything else I wanted to pursue. She was also the driving force behind my marriage to Damian.

In truth, Damian's mother, Mrs. Hansen, never liked me. Of course, she didn’t like Wendy either. She believed that only a daughter of the Hermann royal family was worthy of her son, not an orphan like me or Wendy, who had experienced family bankruptcy.

Thanks to Mrs. Hansen, I lived under her harshness and humiliation. She treated me like a servant, summoning me at her whim. Even her daughter, Emily, was just as unreasonable. But for the sake of Damian’s career, I never mentioned these grievances to him, striving to maintain this fragile marriage.

Looking back now, my sacrifices seem so laughable and self-indulgent.

After reflecting on the past, I made up my mind: “Damian, I’m not joking. I’m waiting for your divorce papers.”

With that, I didn’t wait for his response. I gathered my few belongings and important documents, packed them into my bag, and left the Hansen estate without a backward glance.

Damian stood at the windowsill on the second floor, watching Amelia leave, while Wendy coiled around him like a water snake. “Damian, what are you looking at? Would you rather gaze at a fake than see the real me?”

Damian quickly turned around, pulling the curtains shut as if to close off his heart. “No, darling, I love you.”