Chapter 1 Death of The Substitute Wife

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Raindrops pattered against the window, blurring the city's stunning lights. Aurelia clutched her shoulder, her brows furrowed in distress, but not a sound escaped her lips. Her shoulder jutted out unnaturally, in desperate need of medical attention, but her eyes were dazed as she stared at the bottom of the spiral staircase.

The woman whose face looked uncannily like hers lay unmoving on the marble floor, not a drop of blood marring it. A bright light assaulted her eyes, making her squint right as thunder rolled through the sky, seemingly shaking the house. The large front door pushed open, and a figure rushed in.

“Jianna!” Luther yelled, rushing to the woman’s aid. He knelt beside her, cradling her in his arms before looking at the top of the stairs with thinly veiled wrath.

A shudder rolled through Aurelia. Clearly, it was her, Aurelia Cromwell, who was Luther’s lawfully wedded wife. Yet, here he was, holding her full-blooded older sister like she was a precious treasure.

“I don’t feel well…” Jianna whimpered. She tightened her hold on Luther’s arm, pulling his attention back from Aurelia.

“Did she push you down?” Luther questioned, his neck craned, looking her over with concern.

Jianna jerked her head to the side, an unconvincing act that left people wondering what the real story was. The hesitation and fear in her eyes painted the perfect picture. Aurelia had pushed her down the stairs; that was what her body language screamed.

Aurelia felt her heart drop. She shook her head, unable to form the words to defend herself.

Luther looked up, the tender concern he displayed metamorphosing into rage as he looked at the woman who had hurt his beloved Jianna.

“I warned you not to hurt her, but you never learn,” he sneered. “Do you know what happens to those who hurt my people?”

How could she not know? Aurelia had married into the family, knowing that the Beckett family was not a simple family of businessmen. Their real power lay underground, fishing in dangerous waters and building a fortress that no one else could penetrate. Their means were ruthless, and to those who hurt their family and loved ones… hell lay in wait.

“I didn’t do it,” she whispered hoarsely, but no one heard her.

Luther reached under Jianna’s knees and pulled her up. He stood up, holding her bridal style. The fierce glare he sent Aurelia’s way sent a shiver down her spine.

She flinched back, his gaze too terrifying to hold.

“Take her to the basement!” he commanded to no one in particular.

Aurelia’s eyes widened, and she pushed herself off the railing, scrambling to the top in the hope she could escape. Her hopes were dashed when she felt a hand clutch onto her dislocated shoulder and pin her down.

“Let me go!” she yelped.

She tightened her grip on the railing as two men dressed in black pulled at her ruthlessly. Her forearms ached with effort, and her fingers slipped as she was ripped away, her body bumping into the staircase as they dragged her down. Her sobs were drowned out by the sound of the rain and the panicked whispers of the servants calling for the doctor.

Of course, their concern was not for Aurelia.

Luther would lose his mind if Miss Jianna were seriously hurt. But what about Aurelia? What about her bruised ribs and despair? What about Jianna’s victorious look as she tipped backwards and gently landed at the end of the staircase, unscathed?

.

The dingy basement reeked of rotting cardboard and untold horrors of those that crossed the Beckett family. Aurelia’s eyes had long adjusted to the darkness, yet she couldn’t understand how the Becketts still kept the glorified dungeon in the middle of the bustling city.

It showed how little they feared the law.

She squinted when the heavy metal door opened, bright light assaulting her eyes. She turned her head away until she noticed the light had dimmed. A broad form blocked the doorway, and she looked at him timidly, her eyes red with emotion.

“Must you go this far?” she asked, barely recognizing her own voice.

Luther sauntered in and looked around the room, his nose scrunched in disgust. His eyes fell on the undone rope lying beside Aurelia’s foot, and his eyes cooled.

“Your punishment was too light, and you still complain?” he chuckled with ridicule. “You tried to kill your own sister. We’ve just gotten started. As long as Jianna doesn’t wake up, your re-education shall continue!”

He snapped his fingers. Another person stepped into the room, dragging a large suitcase behind him. The sound of the rolling wheels grated on her sensitive ears.

Confusion dulled her wariness. She could hardly fight off a man twice her size as he forced her into the suitcase. All she could do was scratch and struggle in vain as her husband watched without a shred of emotion.

“Luther, please!” she begged when the other man grabbed her wrist and shoved it into the small space between her bent legs. She craned her neck and wriggled, but he shoved against her head, putting it in place before slapping the cover on top of her, leaving no room for escape.

“I’m sorry! I’ll never hurt her again!” the false confession blurted out of her mouth, hoping it would end her suffering. If taking the blame put an end to Luther’s wrath, she would take it and save herself.

“You’ll have time for an apology later,” he declared coldly. “If you behave, I might let you out early,” he added as the bag was zipped up.

His voice grew further and further until darkness and silence were all Aurelia knew.

She wondered how long she was stuck there. Each second felt like a lifetime as she struggled to move. The unnamed man had shown her mercy and left a gap in the chain, allowing some air to enter. Still, the pain in her body was overshadowed by the burn in her lungs as she struggled to breathe. She gasped as the air thinned and tears stained her pale cheeks.

“Please… save me… I can’t breathe…”

In a rare moment of energy, she clawed at the hard suitcase, her nails breaking on impact. The pretty hands that were meant to play the piano in grand concerts were reduced to a bloody mess from years of abuse.

As she struggled, Luther remained unmoving from Jiana’s bedside. Her eyes rolled under her closed eyelids, a meagre attempt to continue her pretense of unconsciousness. Five days… Five days was a long time to go without eating. Her only solace was the IV bag connected to her, giving her the essential nutrients to survive.

Luther wiped Jianna’s hand reverently. When he noticed the slight flicker of her finger, his head shot up, and his eyes looked over her angelic face. He stared for a moment before realizing it was just a fluke.

His thoughts floated to his 'wife'. He used that word with great disdain, but it was the truth. Aurelia was his wife. His anger had long dissipated, and he suddenly remembered that Aurelia had been locked up for days.

He huffed with irritation. “I’ll let her off this time. She should have learned her lesson already,” he said under his breath.

Jianna’s breath hitched and her eyes twitched as she ‘awoke.’ Her eyes scanned the room blearily, and she tightened her fingers around his.

“Where… where am I?” she asked.

Luther sighed in relief. All concern for his wife, who lay dead and decomposing in the basement, flew out of his mind.

“You fell down the stairs. Thankfully, you didn’t get hurt badly, but the doctor suspects that you have a concussion.”

Jianna groaned. “Aurelia? Where is she?” she asked.

“Locked up. She won’t learn how to behave unless she is punished properly,” he informed with a hint of pride. As if it were something Jianna should reward him for.

His brows furrowed as he remembered the hopelessness on Aurelia’s face when she struggled to get out of the bag.

“Strange… she hasn’t caused any trouble yet.”

Jianna sensed Luther’s interest waning and opened her mouth to speak. The door to her room flew open, and a man dressed neatly in a suit barged in, his eyes wide with fear.

Luther’s assistant, Dane Kaur looked between Luther and Jianna before throwing caution to the wind. “Mr. Beckett, the servants informed me that… that Mrs. Beckett has been punished according to family law. Is that true?”

Luther huffed. “So?”

Dane’s eyes widened in horror. “I… The basement…” He gritted his teeth before he voiced his concern. “Someone from my team called to ask what they should do about Mrs. Beckett. The servants are complaining about a strange smell coming from the basement, but none of them dares to check without your permission.” He cleared his throat. “Should I check on your wife?”

Jianna’s eyes brightened, and she fought to hide her smile. “Luther, just let her out. She must have suffered so much these days!”

Luther squeezed his eyes shut. “She’s a grown woman. She knows how to take care of herself. No need to check on her.”

Dane opened his mouth to say more, but Luther raised his head.

“Let her out tomorrow. If she apologizes, take her to the hospital for a checkup as well.”

Jianna’s shoulder sagged as she shook her head. “Can you not punish her anymore?” she asked. “I know she blames me… she blames me for coming back and taking you away, but I really… I really didn’t want to get between the two of you. Now things have come to this. I accept that she wants me gone…” Her eyes reddened, and tears threatened to spill over. “But I just want an apology. Do you think she will blame me for being selfish?” she asked.

Luther scoffed. “She wouldn’t dare!” he started. “She’s the one who forced me to marry her. She took your place as Mrs. Beckett and had everyone dancing to her tunes. What right does she have to be dissatisfied?”

None of them knew at that moment that the object of their ridicule was cursing them. She wanted to rip their facades off and spit in their faces, but her body had long given way.

She had died shortly after Luther locked her up. Within a day or two. She wasn't sure exactly when because the pain and lack of oxygen had kept her floating in and out of consciousness.

Aurelia never thought she was a saint, but she never foresaw the hell that awaited her. What sin had she committed that God forced her to stay trapped beside Luther even in death, unable to leave his side?

Even in death, she couldn’t escape this wretched man.

“I took her place?” Aurelia hissed. “You gave me nothing! I was never Mrs. Beckett… No one even knew I existed, yet you put on a proud face when you said you would get me pregnant.” She shook her head in disbelief. “How could you do this to your unborn child?” She screamed, yet no one could hear her.

“He was your blood, too!” she sobbed.

Aurelia wondered where everything went wrong.

Was it the moment her parents begged her to marry Luther in Jianna’s place? Was it the first time Jianna came back after dumping the boyfriend for whom she wished to evade marriage, or when she decided she wanted Luther back now that he controlled the Beckett dynasty? Or was it every minute Aurelia allowed the cheating couple to ruin her completely—body, mind, and soul?

Luther reassured Jianna tenderly, unaware that Aurelia had long grown weary of watching them. He thought he had taught her a lesson, and it was true; he really had taught her a valuable lesson. The love she held on to for a decade seeped out of her, replaced with disgust.

‘Luther Beckett, I curse you to die without an heir, but have a house full of children. I curse you to walk the end of your life alone and miserable in the knowledge that everyone in the world wishes you dead. I curse you to die a death a hundred times worse than mine.’

Maybe the universe had mercy on her. Maybe an unknown force prayed for her soul to be released. Aurelia didn’t know which it was. But the clock on the wall stopped ticking. It moved backwards, the room around her blurring until she couldn’t recognize where she was any longer.

When she snapped out of her trance, she was seated in the back of a dark car, the rain-tinged windows blurring the cityscape outside. The car behind hers honked incessantly, and Aurelia looked around, confused.

The girl seated next to her rolled her eyes in disdain. “Mrs. Beckett, what’s wrong now?” she groaned.

Aurelia gulped.

“You—what are you doing here?” she mumbled.

The football game playing on the taxi driver’s tablet showed an unfamiliar date. July, 2025… Three years before Luther killed her.

Her mind turned at the possibility.

‘I travelled back in time?’