Just A Substitute: The Don's Lost Love

I returned to the manor after four years, handing Marcus Thorne an invitation to my wedding.

He looked at me with cold eyes, his arm around his fiancée, Chloe—the woman I was molded to look like.

But the real blow came at lunch.

A waiter tripped, sending three mugs of scalding coffee flying toward us.

Marcus didn't move to protect me.

He lunged to grab his phone from the table because Chloe’s face was on the screen.

The boiling liquid splashed across my chest, burning my skin instantly.

While I screamed in agony, Marcus simply checked his notifications.