Substitutee Marriage: Fallingg For My Ugly Wifee

She gripped the edge of her comforter tightly, glancing at the time.

It was approaching midnight, so she replied, “Fine, I’ll be waiting. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

You know the consequences if you go through with this, so I won’t have so much to lose.”

Shera read Millie’s response and felt her anger boil over. Her threat didn’t appear to faze Millie in the slightest.

Millie placed her phone beside her and sat on the bed, her eyes fixed on the clock. She watched the seconds tick away until the time was two fifty-nine. As the moment approached, she instinctively clenched her hand, bracing herself for what might come next.

The seconds ticked away, a relentless “tick, tock” echoing in the room.

The clock eventually struck 3 am, but there was no explosion or destruction whatsoever.

Millie exhaled a long, trembling breath, her heart pounding with tension.

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Amid the moonlit night, Marcus stirred from his slumber to attend to the open window. His keen eyes caught sight of a procession of cars making their way to the hotel’s parking lot. He scrutinized the time on his wristwatch and then cast an appraising gaze upon the approaching vehicles, his vigilance set alight.

From one of the cars, a shadowy figure emerged, warily surveying the surroundings before furtively advancing toward Marcus’s vehicle. The man’s movements were shrouded in secrecy as he stooped low and secretly concealed something beneath the undercarriage of Marcus’s car.

With suspicion lingering in the air, the intruder swiftly retreated into the hotel, feigning innocence.

Narrowing his eyes, Marcus shut the window, his gaze darting to his wristwatch once more. He subtly arranged a few pillows under the blankets and settled into a chair, his senses on high alert.

As anticipated, half an hour later, the tranquility of the room was shattered by a distinct noise emanating from the window. It was the unmistakable sound of an unaccepted entry.

Soon enough, a shadowy figure cautiously crawled into the room, flashing a Swiss Army knife. With methodical intent, the intruder zeroed in on the bed, thrusting the blade toward the protruding mound beneath the covers.

As he looked at the bulge of pillows and some flying feathers, Marcus rose from his seat.

In a swift and calculated maneuver, he seized the opportunity, striking the intruder from behind and subsequently crushing his hand beneath the weight of his boot. He turned on a flashlight and aimed its blinding beam directly at the assailant’s eyes, increasing the force of his foot.

“Get your master to come next time, Marcus commanded, his voice unwavering.

With steely resolve, he hoisted the intruder to his feet and forcefully ejected him from the room.

Trenton, occupying the adjacent room, detected the unsettling commotion. He hastily slipped his clothing on and emerged from his room, only to be met with the sight of the incapacitated intruder, one of his hands grotesquely swollen.

Marcus, unyielding and resolute, kicked off the Swiss Army knife that the assailant had left behind in the room.

“Get lost!” he growled, his tone laced with authority.

The intruder, having regained his composure, promptly rose to his feet and fled the place, sparing no thought to reclaim the abandoned weapon.

Trenton, gripping the knife in his hand, couldn’t help but be struck by the gravity of the situation. How had a killer entered the very confines of the hotel?

“Mr. Thomas,” Trenton began, turning his attention to Marcus, “I’m relieved you’re unharmed.”