Chapter 1

On our third wedding anniversary, my husband Ethan Foster didn't come home all night.

I saw a message on the phone he'd left at home.

"Ethan, Aria's back in the country today. That bet you made back then should be over now, right? Three years. Aren't you tired of playing happy couple with that substitute yet?"

Ethan replied: "A fake will always be a fake. The game's over. I'll give her some money and send her on her way."

The next second, a video arrived on my phone.

In the video, Ethan was passionately kissing Aria, her clothes half undone.

He even said affectionately, "Aria, I love you."

So after three years of marriage, I was just a stand-in for his first love.

Since it was fake, since it was all a game. Ethan Foster, I'm done playing.

Natalie's POV

In the third year of my marriage to Ethan Foster, I thought I was the happiest woman in the world.

Ethan was one of this city's most powerful elites. Decisive, ruthless, and cold. Yet he seemed to save all his tenderness and patience for me alone.

He would turn down billion-dollar contracts just to pick me up after my simultaneous interpretation conferences ended.

He would drive across half the city on freezing winter nights just to buy me a cake I'd casually mentioned.

He even personally planted an entire greenhouse of white roses for me in our wedding home.

Everyone said Ethan Foster was madly in love with me.

I believed it wholeheartedly myself.

Until today. Our third wedding anniversary.

I'd turned down an overseas translation position with the UN headquarters and came home early to prepare an elaborate dinner.

The clock struck ten PM. Ethan still hadn't returned.

I sat on the sofa and picked up an old tablet Ethan had left at home.

The screen lit up, and a notification chimed abruptly.

It was a group chat named "Bad Boys Club."

I hadn't intended to snoop, but the message that popped up on the screen was like a poisoned ice needle stabbing straight into my eyes.

"Mr. Carter: Ethan, Aria's back in the country. Just finalized her divorce. That bet you made back then should be over now, right? Three years. Aren't you tired of playing happy couple with that substitute yet?"

My breathing stopped cold.

Aria? Aria Sinclair?

Ethan's first love, the one who'd gone overseas and married a Wall Street tycoon?

The messages in the group kept coming.

"Mr. Hayes: Yeah, back then Aria thought your assets weren't stable enough and married someone else. You got pissed and made that bet. Said you'd find a woman with the same temper and same eyes as her, and train her to be the most obedient dog. Now Natalie's completely devoted to you and Aria's back. Time for the substitute to exit, right?"

My whole body went cold. My fingers trembled uncontrollably as I scrolled up.

Then I saw Ethan's reply from half an hour ago.

"Ethan Foster: A fake will always be a fake. The game's over. I'll give her some money and send her on her way."

Fake.

Game over.

Send me on my way.

Those few short words were like a rusted, dull knife, slicing and shredding all the sweetness and happiness of these three years into bloody ribbons.

So that meticulous tenderness was fake. Those late-night cakes were fake. That roomful of white roses was fake too.

White roses. Aria Sinclair's favorite flower.

And I was nothing but a substitute chosen because my eyes and temperament resembled Aria's, used by Ethan Foster to get revenge on his first love and vent his resentment!

A plaything to win a bet!

"Click." The villa's front door opened.

Ethan walked in with a chill clinging to him.

He wore a perfectly tailored black designer suit, his features deep and devastatingly handsome.

Seeing me sitting on the sofa, he paused briefly, then put on that warm smile I knew so well.

"Natalie, why are you still up? Didn't I say you didn't need to wait for me?"

He walked over, habitually moving to pull me into his embrace.

But I caught a faint scent of perfume.

Jo Malone Bluebell.

Not my scent. Aria Sinclair's favorite.

I stiffly avoided his touch.

Ethan's hand fell empty. His brow furrowed imperceptibly, but quickly smoothed out again.

"Sorry, there was an emergency acquisition at the company tonight. Meeting ran until now. Even missed our anniversary. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, okay?"

He was lying.

Even his lies looked so tender and flawless.

I lifted my head and quietly looked at this man I'd loved for three years.

"Ethan,"

My voice was hoarse.

"Were you really at a meeting tonight?"

Ethan's eyes flickered for an instant, then he laughed lightly and ruffled my hair.

"Of course. Where else would I be? Stop overthinking. Get some rest."

He didn't look at the table full of food that had long gone cold. He didn't notice the tablet still glowing under the sofa cushion.

He walked straight toward the bathroom.

Listening to the sound of running water from the bathroom, I slowly closed my eyes.

My heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand, the pain making it nearly impossible to breathe.

But I didn't cry.

I had the same pride as Aria Sinclair. Perhaps even more.

Since it was fake, since it was a game.

Ethan, I'm not playing anymore.