Substitute Wife For The Blind CEO

Chapter 90

Chapter 90: A Snake

Eliana sat perched elegantly on the edge of the marble kitchen stool, legs crossed at the ankles, her sharp brown eyes studying Ivy with a silence that didn’t quite feel comforting after Ivy had told her everything that happened.

Ivy had just finished wiping her tears, her face blotchy and tired despite the layers of foundation still clinging to her skin. Her breathing had evened out, but the tension around her shoulders remained coiled like a spring.

Eliana tilted her head. "So... what’s your plan now? Stefan asked you to leave. Are you just going to stay here and risk him throwing you out for real?"

Ivy looked up, startled at how blunt her friend sounded. But then again, Eliana had always been that way—direct, fearless, and sometimes a little too sharp. Still, Ivy needed that sharpness now. She needed someone with fire beside her, not another whisper of doubt.

"I don’t know," Ivy admitted, dragging her palms down the sides of her dress, still fidgeting. "He told me to be gone before he returned, and if he comes home and sees me, I honestly don’t know what he’ll do. He’s... furious, Eliana. Not annoyed, not irritated—he’s completely done. I saw it in his eyes. He was cold."

"But you’re not leaving," Eliana stated rather than asked, her gaze never breaking.

"No," Ivy said firmly, lifting her chin. "I can’t leave, not yet. Not like this. I have a plan."

Eliana arched a brow. "A plan?"

"Yes," Ivy whispered, stepping closer like she was afraid the walls might hear her. "I’m going to make something for him. A meal. Something that’ll help him... loosen up. Let his guard down. I’ll get his secretary to deliver it tomorrow and pretend it’s from a new catering business or something. I will give her enough money so she won’t spill the truth. He won’t suspect it came from me. And then... if things go right, I’ll appear. Coincidentally. And maybe..." Her voice trailed off, but the implication hung in the air like a thick fog.

Eliana’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak for a moment. Then she leaned back slowly, her head slightly tilted. "That’s bold," she said with a tiny smirk. "But will it work?"

Ivy hesitated. "I don’t know. I honestly don’t. But I’m not just going to sit around while my marriage falls apart. If there’s even a sliver of a chance I can fix this... then I have to try."

Eliana stared at her for a beat too long, then finally sighed and pushed off the stool. "Alright then. How about I help you?"

Ivy blinked. "Help me?"

"Yes," Eliana said, stepping closer. "I’ll talk to Stefan. I’ll ask him to reconsider. You know I’ve never really asked him for anything—never. But maybe if I beg him, he’ll at least listen. Let you explain. Give you a chance and then you can use your charms on me like you’ve always done."

her face softened with hope. "You’d really do that? You mean it?" she said, sounding

never would’ve thought Eliana would want

small, reassuring smile, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from Ivy’s cheek. "Of course I do. You’re my best

this time it was gratitude. "Thank you,"

main hall. "I’ll tell the chef to prepare something for me now. Nothing too fancy, just something filling and warm I could eat tonight and tomorrow before be lives

off with a renewed sense of purpose. Once Ivy was out of

living room, her fingers tapping

clicking with urgency. "Okay, the chef’s starting

slowly. "Good. Now go. It’s almost five. If Stefan comes back and sees you here, it’ll

"But the food, I need to

but firmly. "Trust me. You’ve done enough for now. He needs a little space. I’ll

chewing her lower lip. "Are you

rest in the guest room. Get your mind right for tomorrow. One step at a

didn’t feel entirely alone. She reached

as she hugged her back. "I know," she whispered. "Now

rushed quietly toward the hallway, careful not to draw any attention. Once she slipped into the guest room and closed the door behind her,

glad, she doubted Stefan would listen to her but whatever the case would be, Stefan was going to let his guard down after

waited until the coast was clear before her

toward the kitchen window, arms folding across her

murmured under her breath. "Just

ticked on. And the evening began to creep

into the living room, the scent of polished wood and faint vanilla

space. The past three days had changed everything. Sight—his sight—was no longer

crossed like she owned the place, he didn’t need to hear her voice to

said coolly, his voice cutting through

"Stefan." Her smile was pleasant, practiced. "You’re

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