The Substitute's Contract: Seven Days to Reset My Life

Chapter 12

"Mom!" The sudden change in Luna's address struck Alexander Huxley like a dagger to the heart. His pupils constricted violently, his face drained of color as he staggered back, slamming against the wall.

"Impossible..." he muttered, his fingers digging deep into his palms. "You believe some dubious video?"

Sophia Sinclair had already turned away, pulling her daughter with her. The sharp click of her heels against the marble floor was as decisive as it was final. Several black-suited bodyguards swiftly moved in, binding Alexander and his accomplices—those who had once participated in Ethan Smith's torture—with ruthless efficiency.

"Search!" Sophia's voice rang out from beyond the door. "Tear the Huxley Manor apart if you have to!"

As Alexander was roughly shoved into a car, he watched dozens of guards fan out across the estate in a systematic sweep. His lips twisted into a bitter smile—they would never find what they were looking for.

Three years passed in the blink of an eye.

In the visitation room of B City Prison, Alexander shuffled in, heavy shackles weighing down his steps. His once-handsome face was now marred by grotesque scars, the right side puckered and shriveled like dried bark from an old burn.

On the other side of the glass, Sophia sat in a sleek black suit, her lips painted a deep crimson. Eight-year-old Luna stood beside her, her gaze as cold as ice.

"I heard you know Ethan's whereabouts?" Sophia cut straight to the point, her slender fingers tapping lightly on the table.

Alexander let out a low, grating laugh, the sound like air escaping a broken bellows. "Him? He's long gone back to where he belongs." He tilted his head, his grin unsettling. "The man you've been searching for all these years... never belonged here in the first place."

Luna's small fists clenched tightly. Sophia scoffed and rose to her feet. "A waste of time."

"Wait!" Alexander suddenly lunged forward, pressing his scarred face against the cold glass. "Don’t you want to know who those two people in the photo were?"

His single remaining eye burned with madness. "They were from his original world—"

Before he could finish, guards seized him by the arms. As he was dragged away, his laughter echoed hauntingly through the room.

Sophia stared at the spot where he had disappeared, her crimson nails absently tracing the edge of her phone. The screen displayed the wallpaper she hadn’t changed in three years—Ethan’s gentle smile.

"Mom..." Luna tugged lightly at her sleeve. "Is Daddy really... in another world?"

Sophia knelt and pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. She remembered that rainy night three years ago, the look in Ethan’s eyes as he gazed at her one last time—soft, yet layered with something she couldn’t decipher.

"No matter which world he’s in," she whispered into Luna’s ear, "Mommy will find him."

The phone call crackled with a hoarse voice that scraped against Sophia Sinclair's eardrums like a blunt knife. Her teacup slipped from trembling fingers, shattering on the floor in a burst of porcelain shards.

An image surfaced from the depths of her memory—a yellowed photograph tucked away in her safe. The edges had faded, but the scene remained vivid: a man gently stroking a little girl's hair, his fingers lingering with phantom warmth.

"Impossible..." Luna Smith's nails dug crescent moons into her palms. She remembered that stormy night when her father had shielded her in his arms, drenched to the bone. How could those protective eyes have been a lie?

Alexander Huxley watched their ashen faces with cruel satisfaction, the corners of his mouth curling into a predator's smile. Three years of sleepless nights had finally led to this moment of reckoning.

"Did you know?" He twisted the wedding band on his ring finger with deliberate slowness. "In that other world, he brought his wife roses every single day. But for you..." He drew out the pause, savoring their anguish. "Just wildflowers picked on his way home from another mission."

Luna's tears fell like shattered glass. Suddenly, she remembered her twelfth birthday—the mud-splattered hem of her father's pants as he rushed in late. Those dewy lilies of the valley hadn't been a gift; they'd been an afterthought.

"You're lying!" The girl's voice fractured. "Dad would never—" The words died in her throat. She couldn't recall him ever saying "I love you."

Sophia's knuckles whitened around the armrest. The details she'd deliberately ignored now sharpened into focus—his midnight murmurs to empty air, the unfamiliar perfumes clinging to his suit after business trips. All because...

"System?" Her voice came out parched. "What system?"

Alexander threw back his head in laughter, the sound bordering on hysterical. "The golden ticket that let him hop between worlds! You were just NPCs in his little game—"

"Shut up!" Luna hurled a vase at him. Crystal exploded at his feet, mirroring the wreckage of her crumbling reality.

Sophia remained eerily still. She remembered Ethan's hesitant expression during their last meeting—what she'd mistaken for reluctance now revealed itself as relief.

"The funniest part?" Alexander wiped mock tears away. "He begged the system for three extra days—just to celebrate that woman's birthday." His eyes gleamed with malice. "Meanwhile, your anniversaries always got delegated to his assistant."

The final blow landed. Sophia staggered against the wall as two decades of marriage unraveled into grotesque farce.

Outside, thunder split the sky, unleashing a torrential downpour—just like that night five years ago when Ethan had appeared outside her office with a black umbrella. Only now did she understand: that shelter had never been meant for her.

The aroma of dinner wafted from the kitchen as Ethan Smith placed the final dish on the table. Sophia Sinclair entered the dining room, arm-in-arm with Alexander Huxley, while Luna Smith skipped in behind them.

"Daddy, sit here!" Luna pulled out the chair at the head of the table, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at Alexander.

Alexander shot Ethan a smug glance before sprawling into the seat. He eagerly served Luna a portion of food, only for the little girl to scrunch her nose in distaste.

"Daddy, I don’t like carrots," Luna said, pushing her bowl away.

Alexander chuckled awkwardly before turning to Sophia. "Honey, try this shrimp—"

"I’m allergic to seafood," Sophia cut him off coldly. "After all these years of marriage, you didn’t know that?"

The atmosphere at the table instantly froze. Ethan quietly stood and ladled out two bowls of lotus root and pork rib soup—their favorite—for Sophia and Luna.

"I’ll check on the soup in the kitchen," he murmured before stepping away.

Just as he turned off the stove, footsteps sounded behind him. Alexander leaned against the doorframe, a fake smile plastered on his face.

"Need any help?" he asked, sauntering toward the pot.

Ethan barely had time to react before Alexander "accidentally" knocked it over.

"Ah!" Alexander yelped dramatically.

Scalding broth splashed onto Ethan’s legs, but he didn’t make a sound. Meanwhile, Alexander cradled his slightly reddened hand, eyes watering.

Sophia and Luna rushed in at the commotion, only to find the scene before them.

"He burned me on purpose!" Alexander whined. "I knew he never wanted me back—"

"Ethan!" Sophia snapped. "How dare you hurt Luna’s real father?"

Luna glared at him, fists clenched. "You’re awful! Mom only married you to take care of me! You’ll never be as good as Daddy!"

Sophia tenderly held Alexander’s hand. "Let’s go. We’re taking you to the hospital."

The three of them swept out without sparing Ethan a single glance. He remained where he stood, his pants soaked, the burns on his skin searing.

But the pain in his chest was worse.

All these years, he’d worked tirelessly, believing he might earn at least a shred of warmth. Now, he realized it had all been in vain.

A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he wiped the splattered broth from his face. It didn’t matter. Soon, he’d leave this house that was never truly his.

Outside, the happy family disappeared into the distance. Ethan quietly closed the kitchen door and began cleaning up the mess.