The Substitute Bride Is Reborn and Loves Her Husband No more - Chapter 81

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The Substitute Bride Is Reborn and Loves Her Husband No more / Chapter 81: I found myself a mafia puppy
Chapter 81: I found myself a mafia puppy

Never did she think she would find herself in such a situation—contemplating the possibility of having two mates. Zara’s words still echoed in her mind as she stepped out of the car, walking toward her son’s school. The eyes of passersby lingered on her beautiful figure, but she ignored them, pretending not to notice.

From the school gates, she spotted Tobi sprinting toward her, his short legs moving as fast as they could.

“Mummy!” he called cheerfully, running into her for a hug, though he could only reach her legs. She laughed at the sight—her son was truly hilarious.

Chuckling to herself, she scooped him up to her arm level, and Tobi beamed, wrapping his tiny arms around her neck.

Rose smiled. He was incredibly smart too.

“Did your teacher teach you well today?” she asked, her eyes glinting with amusement.

Tobi blinked, then nodded, almost like his little brain needed a moment to process the question.

“Teacher taught us today! I can count from one to fifty!”

Rose raised a brow. That much?

She couldn’t believe it. When she was his age, she could barely count to ten.

“When we get home, you’ll read it to me, okay?”

Tobi eagerly nodded his small head, and Rose smiled, ruffling his hair affectionately. Soon after, she flagged down a taxi, nearly missing it in her distraction.

—

Meanwhile…

Mrs. Stella sat in an upscale café, sipping a cocktail.

Two pretty women flanked her—her little minions.

“I still can’t believe that spoiled daughter of mine hasn’t come to see me again or even shown me my grandchild,” she sneered, taking another delicate sip of her drink.

Mrs. Stella

Her eyes trailed to the ladies beside her, and they nodded immediately, as if understanding the meaning behind her gaze.

Mrs. Stella chuckled. Yes, they should do their job—be her supporters in whatever she said or did. They weren’t here to judge her.

One of her supporters spoke, almost as if she could read Mrs. Stella’s mind.

“That daughter of yours needs some discipline.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“Yes, and if she doesn’t want you to see your grandson, you should take him away from her by force.”

Mrs. Stella smiled. This was what she liked to hear—reassurance, validation. She would take her grandson from her daughter by force.

But then, her smile faded as another thought crossed her mind.

Why didn’t Jennifer give me a grandchild? Even when she ran off with one of her lovers, she should have gotten pregnant at some point. After all, she had the money to feed an infant.

“I’ll go see that daughter of mine. She’s hiding from me like a rat in the sewers, but I’ll find her—sooner than she thinks.”

Mrs. Stella stood up, grabbing her purse.

“See you later, ladies.”

She waved, and her minions forced smiles, waving back.

As she walked away, she faintly heard one of them sigh in relief.

“Thank God she’s gone. I’m just a Gamma, but I felt like a piece of meat on a butcher’s board with her around.”

“Agreed,” another muttered, taking a deep sip of her drink, as if trying to drown herself in it.

Mrs. Stella sneered. That was the kind of emotion she loved provoking in people—fear, unease, and submission.

…

At Zara’s house, not long after Rose left…

“What are you doing here, Caleb?”

Zara glared at the man standing tall, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. Before she could react, he pushed her against the wall, his hands cupping her face.

She turned her head, trying to escape his touch, but it was too late.

“Caleb, let me go!” Zara snapped, her eyes burning with anger.

Caleb’s gaze flickered as he stared at her.

“You’re ignoring me. You shouldn’t,” he murmured, his tone soft and laced with hurt.

For a brief moment, Zara’s frown faltered, but she quickly caught herself, scowling once more.

“What are you doing in my house, stranger? Let me go!”

Zara had once thought there was something between them—that maybe they could have something. But she had been wrong.

She’d believed romance was blossoming between them, but no. Caleb was nothing more than an annoying idiot.

She had found him bleeding in a dark corner, barely conscious. Instinct told her to take him to a hospital, but he had pleaded with her not to.

Zara hadn’t been afraid of bringing an injured man into her home. She could be far more dangerous than any wounded stranger.

So, she took him in, treated his wounds, and somehow, one impulsive act of kindness had led to an affair with a man who secretly lived in her house for thirty-one days.

Once, she’d asked him:

“Don’t you have a house? Don’t you want to leave?”

But he stayed. And somewhere along the way, things got complicated. They did something stupid, and just when Zara started to believe it was real, Caleb had shattered the illusion with a horrible confession.

“Be my surrogate. I have a fiancée.”

Zara had laughed bitterly, said, “F** you,”* and thrown him out of her house.

—

“I don’t ever want to see you here again—in my house or my life!” Zara finally shoved Caleb away with brute force.

What pissed her off the most was the fact that everything he had told her was a lie.

He had no fiancée. The surrogate part? She wasn’t so sure. Zara had done her research—nothing about this man could stay hidden from her.

“Why are you here, Caleb? Shouldn’t you be with your imaginary fiancée? Maybe make her your surrogate. Are you dumb or something?”

Rolling her eyes, Zara turned and stormed toward her room.

She heard Caleb’s footsteps falter behind her, as if he were hesitating. So, he still doesn’t get the hint, she thought with a tired sigh.

Her plan was simple—lock the door the moment she stepped inside.

But just as she entered her room and reached for the door, a hand clasped her wrist. In an instant, the door slammed shut, and Caleb was inside.

“Caleb, why the hell are you in my room?” Zara asked, a small, sharp smile curling on her lips.

“Don’t worry,” he replied, his handsome face stretching into a cocky grin. “I read your hint loud and clear, babe.”

Zara smirked slightly.

“You know,” she drawled, crossing her arms, “you’re not serious about… whatever this thing is between us. I don’t even know what to call it. And honestly, I’m not that interested. I’m just playing around.”

“You can’t say that,” Caleb muttered, and before she could retort, he kissed her.

When he pulled back, his expression softened.

“I’m new to this. All that stupid talk… it was just my awkward way of approaching you. Please, take me seriously.”

For the first time, he didn’t look like a cocky fool. He looked like a kicked puppy.

Zara chuckled inwardly. So, I’ve found myself a mafia puppy, huh?