The Ghost Wife's Runway: Stealing Back My Crown

Three years of a toxic romance bled me dry. Now, I am back for blood. The massive screens at the awards gala lit up with the original design drafts. My stomach plummeted.

The signature at the bottom wasn't mine. The head judge didn't even hesitate.

He ripped the crystal trophy right out of my hands and shoved it into the waiting palms of Sienna—the girl I had called my best friend since college.

A hundred camera flashes exploded like strobe lights, searing my retinas. The vicious whispers in the room warped into a deafening, underwater roar.

All the oxygen vanished from my lungs. My knees buckled, and the red carpet rushed up to meet my face. I never hit the ground.

Julian’s strong arm clamped around my waist, pulling my shaking frame flush against his chest. His grip was a steel anchor in the spinning chaos.

He didn't just tell the bloodthirsty press that he believed me. Right there under the blinding lights, he dropped to one knee.

He pulled out a ring and silenced the entire room with a proposal. The freezing humiliation melted under his steady, protective gaze.

A hot tear slipped down my cheek as I leaned into his solid warmth, completely dropping my guard. I said yes.

Chapter 1 Three years later, an invitation to Paris Fashion Week landed in my inbox. I gripped the printed email, rushing to his office to share the news.

Instead, I stopped dead outside his door.

His voice drifted through the crack, mixing with his best friend's laughter. "Boss, you really played the long game," Seth chuckled. "If Sienna hadn't taken her spot on that podium back in college, we wouldn't be sitting here today." "And that knightinshiningarmor routine?

Fucking brilliant. You've got Rowan hooked." I peeked through the gap.

Julian leaned back in his leather chair, casually spinning a stylus between his fingers. "A toptier designer has to be flawless. No weaknesses.

The only way Sienna secures the throne in this industry is if Rowan stays completely ruined." Seth sounded confused. "But Sienna is already an Alister.

Why even keep her around anymore?" "Sienna still lacks that raw creative edge," Julian said flatly. "I’ll wait until Rowan's concepts are drained.

Once her portfolio is wrung dry, Sienna’s position at the fashion show will be untouchable." Their laughter slammed into me.

A freezing numbness shot up my spine, turning the blood in my veins to ice. Every gentle kiss, every whispered promise, every latenight coffee he brought to my desk—it wasn't love.

It was a calculated heist. A threeyear scam designed to bleed my talent dry. He built Sienna a staircase out of my shattered career.

I dug my nails into my palms until the stinging pain grounded me. I wiped the wet heat from my cheeks with the back of my hand.

Right then, standing in the hallway outside my own studio, the laughter from inside kept ringing in my ears. "You really played them all, Boss.

Funneling all of Rowan's sketches straight to Sienna… she's practically an Alister now!" That was Seth, Julian’s manager. "Her?" Julian’s voice dripped with pure disdain. "She's just a mindless sketch machine." "I played her like a fiddle.

If it wasn't for Sienna, I wouldn't have wasted three years babysitting her." Static filled my brain. Three years of marriage.

The sweet moments, the soft words whispered against my skin. It was all a complete fabrication. I thought Julian was my safe haven.

Instead, I was nothing but the stepping stone they used to climb to the top. Julian scoffed. "She actually thinks I care about her art.

It was just to keep her docile, to keep the drafts flowing for Sienna.

Once Sienna locks down her spot as the queen of the fashion world, Rowan is utterly useless to me." His words swung like a sledgehammer. A violent impact.

Crushing the air straight out of my lungs. Chapter 2 A violent tremor wracked my body. I couldn't stomach another syllable.

I spun around, my heels catching on the hardwood floor as I stumbled blindly down the hall. Hot tears spilled over my lashes, warping the walls into blurry streaks.

The memory of college slammed into me. The Iris Collection. I had poured my blood and sweat into those floral drafts, banking on that exact competition to launch my career.

But when the winner was announced, it was Sienna standing on the stage.

When I backed her into a corner later, she just blinked at me with wide, innocent eyes and claimed she drew every line herself.

I was suffocating on my own panic back then, emptyhanded and zero proof. That was when Julian stepped in.

He wrapped a warm arm around my shaking shoulders, swearing he would dig up the truth and shielding me from the judging eyes of the crowd. The doorknob clicked.

Julian stepped into the room. His eyes swept over my pale face and the way my hands gripped the edge of my desk.

He immediately shifted his features into a mask of perfect, husbandly concern. "Baby, what's wrong? Are you feeling sick?" My grip tightened on my phone.

The metal edges dug into my palm, the sharp pain anchoring me to reality. "It's nothing. My concepts have just been drying up lately.

I'm hitting a wall." Julian flashed that signature, easy smile. "Why don't I fly you out to Paris Fashion Week for some inspiration?

You've always wanted to go." I stared at the flawless angles of his face. "Forget it," I murmured.

A sudden image flashed behind my eyes: the faint iris birthmark stamped onto the back of Sienna's neck. It was a dead match for the one on my right shoulder.

I used to brush it off as a bizarre coincidence. But standing here, breathing the same air as the man who orchestrated my ruin, I realized nothing in my life was a coincidence.

Was there a darker layer to what happened back then? The second the front door clicked shut behind Julian, I unlocked my phone.

I scrolled past years of contacts until I hit a number I hadn't touched in ages. Spencer, the CEO of the rival label. I pulled in a ragged breath and pressed dial.

The line rang twice before a deep, gravelly voice answered. "Hello? Who is this?" "Spencer.

It's Rowan." I swallowed the tremor in my throat, forcing the words out like ice. "I want to make a deal." Silence stretched over the line. "Rowan," Spencer finally said. "I know who you are.

You have raw talent, but you got played.

I can back you up, but you need to bring something to the table that makes it worth my while." "I have the leverage to utterly destroy Sienna's reputation," I fired back, my tone razorsharp. "And Julian will pay for every single thing he's done.

Give me the resources and the backing, and I'll deliver their empire on a platter." "Done. I'm buying in." Spencer paused. "Watch your back. They have serious muscle behind them.

Ping me when you have the blueprint." The call went dead. I lowered the phone. A vow locked itself into my bones. Julian and Sienna were going to bleed for this.

With Spencer in my corner, the chessboard shifted. But this was a long game. I had to walk a razor's edge. I would play the perfect, oblivious wife.

I would smile for Julian, nod along, and quietly gather the ammunition to blow their lives to ash. Julian didn't suspect a thing.

He kept wearing the mask of the devoted partner, parading around the house like he owned my soul. A few nights later, he walked through the front door, practically glowing.

He carried a sleek, velvetwrapped box.

He stopped right in front of me, his voice dripping with that manufactured sweetness. "Rowan, look what I brought you." Bile surged into my throat.

I swallowed down the urge to scream, pasting on a bright, clueless expression. "What is it?" Chapter 3 He popped the velvet lid.

A massive diamond ring, customcut into the shape of a blooming iris, caught the overhead lights. "I had this made just for you, Rowan," he said, his voice dropping into that smooth, practiced cadence. "You've always loved irises.

This ring represents my love for you. One of a kind." He reached out, grabbing my wrist to slide the heavy band onto my finger. I yanked my hand back. "It's too heavy.

I can't take it." Julian’s fingers hung in the empty air for a split second before he seamlessly tucked them into his pockets.

A polished smile stretched across his face. "What are you talking about? You're my wife. You deserve everything I buy you.

Plus, I have some news." I forced my facial muscles into a mask of mild curiosity. "What news?" "I locked down the opening slot for you at Paris Fashion Week.

You've always wanted your designs on a global runway. Now it's happening." He adjusted his cuffs, playing the perfect, providing husband. Bile rose in the back of my throat.

He really thought he could buy my compliance with a runway slot while he sucked my portfolio dry. But the Paris stage was a massive spotlight.

I could use that exact spotlight to burn Sienna’s career to the ground. I stretched my lips into a plastic smile. "Really? That's amazing." "Get ready to stun the world," he said.

He stepped in and wrapped his arms around me. My skin crawled. I stood rigid against his chest, digging my nails into my own thighs to keep from shoving him away.

Over the next few weeks, Julian kept playing the supportive partner, promising to handle all the logistics for Paris. Right under his nose, I went to work.

I dug through the forgotten boxes in the attic, pulling out my original, yellowed sketchbooks from college—the exact blueprints Sienna had stolen to build her empire.

Every pen stroke on those pages was mine. I fired off a secure message to an old tech guy from my first studio, asking him to scrape the archived security footage.

I needed hard, visual proof of Julian and Sienna's backdoor deals. During the prep, Spencer introduced me to his righthand man, Asher.

I laid my cards on the table, detailing the exact sabotage I needed.

Asher leaned against the boardroom glass, studying my face. "I respect the hustle, Rowan," he said, his tone dead serious. "I've got your back. But we have to play this airtight.

Julian and Sienna have deep pockets and dirty connections." I met his gaze. "I know." "But they are going to bleed for this." The countdown to Paris ticked down.

I kept the domestic peace, cooking dinners and smiling while quietly arming the bomb under Julian's life. One Tuesday, his cell buzzed.

He checked the screen, and the muscles in his jaw instantly locked.

I poured a glass of water, keeping my tone perfectly casual. "Everything okay?" He shoved the phone into his jacket. "It's nothing. A minor fire at the agency.

I have to go." He didn't even look at me before slamming the front door behind him. My gut twisted. I grabbed my keys and tailed his black SUV across town.

He parked outside a highend diamond retailer. I slipped through the revolving doors a minute behind him, tracking his tailored suit to a private, glasswalled office in the back.

I pressed my shoulder against the corridor wall. Through the crack in the door, a name floated out.

Sienna. "Douglas," Julian's voice drifted into the hallway. "I want to buy out your entire iristhemed jewelry collection. It's for Sienna.

She's been obsessed with that motif lately." A gravelly voice answered. Douglas. "Julian, you know the drill. That collection is our flagship.

The price tag on that vault isn't cheap." Chapter 4 "Money isn't an issue. If Sienna wants it, I'll write the check." Julian didn't even blink.

The words scraped against my ribs like rusted metal. His obsession with her was the only real thing in our marriage.

Every touch, every whispered promise he ever gave me was just a calculated deposit into Sienna's future. I stepped away from the door, melting into the shadows of the corridor.

He was going to bleed for every second he stole from me. I beat him home.

When Julian finally walked through the front door, he poured himself a drink and made idle conversation like a man with nothing to hide.

I tracked his movements from the couch, the taste of ash heavy on my tongue. I needed a harder look at his digital footprint.

Hours later, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest filled the dark bedroom. I slid his phone off the nightstand. No passcode. Typical arrogance. I tapped open his camera roll.

The harsh blue glare illuminated my face. Row after row of Sienna. Sienna laughing. Sienna crying. Sienna pouting over a cocktail. A digital museum dedicated to their secret life.

I scrolled back three years. Nothing. Not a single pixel of me existed in his world. A jagged lump lodged in my throat, choking off my air.

A single, scalding tear broke free, splashing onto the glass screen. I wiped it away, the wet smear distorting Sienna's smiling face.

I was the wife on paper, but I was a ghost in his life. The grief burned away, leaving behind a cold, hard rage. My phone vibrated against the sheets. A text from the tech guy.

Attached was a compressed video file and a single line. [ Got it. Julian and Sienna in the archives stealing the blueprints. ] My pulse slammed against my eardrums. The smoking gun.

The high of securing the evidence didn't last. Two days later, I was crossing the street downtown when my boots froze on the pavement. Sienna.

She was stepping out of a boutique, wearing a loose, flowing linen dress. The wind pressed the fabric against her frame. A rounded, swelling belly. The world tilted on its axis.

The pavement vanished beneath my feet. I trailed a halfblock behind her like a sleepwalker, watching her turn into a highend maternity store.

I anchored myself against the cold brick wall outside the window. She was running her fingers over tiny cashmere onesies, a radiant, sickening glow painted across her face.

Pregnant. With Julian's child. My stomach heaved. A brutal wave of nausea ripped through my gut. I doubled over, gasping for air that wasn't there. My lungs burned.

The street noise warped into a deafening, highpitched ring. They weren't just stealing my career. They were building an entire family on the ashes of my life.

Hot, metallic tears spilled over my lashes, dripping onto the concrete sidewalk. Back at the house, I barricaded myself in the bathroom and called Asher.

I laid out every brutal detail. Static hissed over the line. "Rowan," Asher finally said. "This is a massive hit, but it's also a lever.

We can use this to snap their necks permanently." "What's the play?" I asked, gripping the edge of the sink. "We fake your death." Asher didn't miss a beat. "You vanish.

You take your concepts, you go overseas, and you build your empire in the dark." "When the time is right, you come back and drop the hammer on them." "Fake my death?" The words felt jagged in my mouth. "I'll handle the logistics.

It'll be airtight," Asher said, his voice a low, steady rumble. "Lock down the rest of the evidence.

We wait for the perfect window, then we pull the trigger." I stared at my pale, wrecked reflection in the mirror. Staying here was a slow execution. "Do it," I whispered.

The pact was sealed. I sat in the dark, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But I underestimated them. Sienna and Seth moved first. Chapter 5 An anonymous text hit my phone.

It promised the final nail in the coffin for Julian and Sienna—hard evidence, waiting for me at an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. Every instinct screamed it was a trap.

I didn't care. I needed that leverage. Before heading out, I shoved the signed divorce papers and the flash drive with the backup files into my leather tote. Just in case.

My boots crunched against the broken glass inside the warehouse. Laughter echoed from the shadows. Sienna and Seth stepped into the dim light. "Rowan.

You actually showed up," Sienna sneered. I kept my spine straight. "What do you want, Sienna? Seth?" Seth strolled forward, a smirk plastered on his face. "We're erasing you.

You're a liability." Sienna stepped closer. She placed a manicured hand over her slightly rounded belly, tilting her head. "Look at you, Rowan.

So pathetic." "Meanwhile, Julian and I are about to start our real life. He loves me.

It's always been me." "Don't get too comfortable," I shot back. "Everything you've done is going to see the light of day." Sienna let out a high, cold laugh. "Exposure?

You think you're walking out of here? Today is the end of the line." She flicked her eyes toward Seth. Seth reached behind a rusted oil drum.

He pulled out a glass bottle sloshing with a thick, amber liquid. He stepped toward me. My heart slammed against my ribs.

I stumbled backward. "What are you doing?" "Teaching you your place." Seth's arm suddenly jerked back. He threw it. I twisted away, but the spray caught the side of my face.

Absolute, blistering fire. The skin on my cheek literally hissed. A blinding, searing heat ripped straight through my nerve endings. My knees hit the concrete.

A raw, guttural scream tore out of my throat. "That's sulfuric acid," Sienna's voice floated above my screams, completely detached. "Your face is melting off.

Let's see you try to compete with me now." I clamped my hands over the burning flesh. Scalding tears mixed with the acid, magnifying the agony tenfold. I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't think. The heavy metal doors suddenly groaned open. Footsteps pounded against the concrete. Julian. He rushed in.

My vision blurred from the pain, but I reached out a shaking hand. "Julian… help me…" He blew right past me. He didn't even glance at my writhing body on the floor.

He lunged straight for Sienna, grabbing her shoulders. "Sienna! Are you okay? Did she hurt you?

The baby?" Sienna instantly dissolved into tears, shrinking against his chest. "Julian, it was Rowan! She snapped." "She tried to attack the baby!

I was so terrified." Julian finally turned to look at me. Not with horror at my melted skin, but with absolute disgust. "Rowan, you sick bitch. You went after Sienna and my child?

I will destroy you for this." I stared at him through a blinding haze of agony. "Are you insane?" My voice cracked, raw and bleeding. "Look at me! I'm the one burning!

They threw acid on me!" The last frayed thread of my sanity snapped. The physical pain was nothing compared to the sickening void opening in my chest.

He didn't care if I died right here on this dirty floor. A dark, hysterical laugh bubbled up from my throat, mixing with the dust. "Julian. You are going to regret this.

I will make you pay for every single second of today." Seth stepped up beside them. "Boss, she's completely unhinged. We can't just let her walk." Julian stared down at me.

His eyes were completely dead. "Throw her out," he ordered. "I never want to see her face again." Chapter 6 Seth marched up and shoved me hard in the chest. I hit the concrete.

Whitehot agony flared across my melted skin, blacking out the edges of my vision. But I refused to die on this dirty floor. I forced myself up on shaking legs.

I reached into my tote, ripped out the signed divorce papers and the loaded flash drive, and hurled them straight at Julian’s chest. "Here are your divorce papers," I gasped, my voice raw. "And the hard proof of every single thing you've done.

You think you can just walk away from this? Never." I didn't wait for a reaction. I spun around and sprinted for the warehouse exit.

Julian and Sienna's shouts echoed behind me, bouncing off the corrugated metal walls, but the frantic pounding of my own heart drowned them out. The heavy night air hit my lungs.

I scrambled toward the rushing river just past the tree line. Staring down at the black, churning water, a cold, mechanical resolve locked my joints. I jumped.

Midair, Julian’s shout pierced the dark—a sudden, frantic sound. I didn't care if it was real. The freezing water slammed into me, swallowing me whole.

The brutal undercurrent dragged me down, and I thrashed against the weight of the river until my lungs burned.

Time lost all meaning until strong hands gripped my collar, hauling my limp body onto the muddy bank. I blinked through the stinging water.

Asher’s tense features came into focus. "Rowan," Asher’s voice was a tight rumble. "Are you okay?" I coughed up a lungful of river water, shivering violently in the dirt. "Did… did the extraction work?" Asher nodded.

He wrapped a heavy thermal blanket over my shoulders, pulling it tight. "It's airtight. Julian is convinced you're at the bottom of the river.

He's panicking." Asher’s tactical team had been stationed downstream the entire night. They loaded me into an unmarked van and drove me straight to a secure safe house.

As the field medic carefully neutralized the acid burns on my cheek, the searing physical pain finally gave way to something else. Complete, weightless liberation.

From the cold glow of the monitors in the safe house, I watched Julian’s empire implode. Asher had tapped their security feeds.

The footage showed Julian plugging in the flash drive. When the files opened, he physically recoiled.

He tore the warehouse apart, violently kicking over metal barrels and smashing chairs, refusing to accept I was dead.

Seth, spotting the exposed evidence, tried to make a run for it. He didn't make it past city limits.

Julian’s private security dragged Seth into a windowless, concrete basement. "Seth, give me the truth," Julian’s voice fed through the audio bug, dangerously low. "What the hell is this?

Have you and Sienna been playing me?" Seth shook violently, his knees buckling under the harsh overhead light. "Boss, I… Sienna forced me!

She swore she’d leak our history to you if I didn't cooperate." "Your history?" Julian stepped closer, his jaw locking into a lethal line. "What history?" Seth swallowed hard, sweat dripping down his face. "Sienna and I have been hooking up for years.

She isn't who you think she is." "She played you, Boss. And… the college fire. It wasn't Sienna who dragged you out of those flames." "It was Rowan.

Sienna found out and paid a tattoo artist to brand an iris on her neck to steal the credit." Julian froze