The Fake Wife's Spectacular Genius Comeback

Chloe Hayes had been waiting five years for a baby.

She got a front-row seat to her husband's other family instead.

---

The pregnancy test was still in her purse. Positive. The third one this week.

She'd been saving it for the perfect moment. Dinner. Candles. Maybe a cute little onesie wrapped in a box.

That moment died the second she saw the name on the clipboard.

*Isabelle Vance.*

Emergency contact: *Julian Sterling.*

His signature. *Her* husband's signature. The loops and slashes she'd memorized from wedding vows, birthday cards, and the lies he fed her every single day.

The nurse tried to grab the clipboard back. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry—wrong patient!"

Chloe didn't let go.

"Is there *another* Julian Sterling in this city?" she asked, her voice terrifyingly calm.

The nurse's face went pale. "I… I'm sure it's just—"

"Common name? Of course."

Chloe stood up. Walked out. Didn't look back.

---

Thirty minutes later, she was standing outside a members-only club in SoHo.

Her husband's Mercedes was parked out front. She knew because she'd put a tracker on it six months ago—back when she still thought she was being paranoid.

*You weren't paranoid, Chloe. You were right.*

The bouncer blocked her.

"Members only."

"I'm Julian Sterling's wife."

"You're not on the list."

Chloe smiled. It was not a friendly smile. She pulled a stack of hundred-dollar bills from her pocket—money she'd been saving for the baby's nursery—and pressed it into his palm.

"Am I on the list now?"

The door opened.

---

The hallway smelled like old leather and expensive whiskey. Laughter spilled from a room at the end.

Chloe pushed the door open without knocking.

The scene inside was straight out of her nightmares.

Julian—*her* Julian—was sprawled on a leather couch, his arm wrapped around a very pregnant woman with long, dark hair.

*Isabelle.*

One of his friends raised a glass. "So, Jules, when are you gonna tell the little wife? Or are you waiting for the baby shower?"

Julian laughed. "Why would I tell her? She's the perfect little housekeeper. Cooks, cleans, thinks we're building a family." He kissed Isabelle's temple. "And I don't have to pay alimony on a fake marriage."

*Fake marriage.*

The words hit like bullets.

Chloe stepped into the light.

"Hey, Jules."

The room went dead silent.

Julian's face cycled through shock, then irritation, then—nothing. *Ice.* "Chloe. You should've called."

"Clearly." She walked toward him, her heels clicking slow and deliberate on the marble floor. "I have news."

She pulled the pregnancy test from her purse and tossed it onto his lap.

"Surprise. You're going to be a dad."

Isabelle gasped. Julian's jaw tightened.

Chloe leaned down, her face inches from his. "But not to her baby. *Mine.*"

Then she straightened up, turned, and walked out.

No one stopped her.

---

Outside, the rain had started. Chloe stood on the sidewalk, breathing in the cold, wet air.

She pulled out her phone and opened the county clerk's website.

*Marriage record request. Chloe Hayes & Julian Sterling.*

The screen loaded.

*No record found.*

Five years. A fake husband. A real baby.

And now—a very real plan.

She dialed a number she'd memorized months ago, back when she'd first started suspecting. The number of the city's most ruthless divorce lawyer.

"Hello? I need to ruin someone's life."

A pause. Then:

"How fast?"

Chloe watched the club door swing shut behind her.

"As fast as possible!"