Substitute Wife For The Blind CEO
Chapter 90: A Snake

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."

The words caught Ivy off guard. Her eyes widened, and for the first time all day, her face softened with hope. "You’d really do that? You mean it?" she said, sounding really surprised.

She never would’ve thought Eliana would want to help her do this.

Eliana gave a small, reassuring smile, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from Ivy’s cheek. "Of course I do. You’re my best friend, Ivy. If you want your husband back, I’ll help you fight for him."

Emotion flooded Ivy’s chest again, but this time it was gratitude. "Thank you," she breathed. "God, thank you, Eliana."

She turned immediately toward the double doors leading into the 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 for work."

Eliana followed her at a calm pace, watching as Ivy walked off with a renewed sense of purpose. Once Ivy was out of earshot, Eliana’s expression shifted and the softness faded, replaced by something sharper. Calculated.

Her gaze drifted lazily toward the living room, her fingers tapping against the kitchen island as if weighing possibilities.

Moments later, Ivy returned, her heels clicking with urgency. "Okay, the chef’s starting now. It’ll be ready soon."

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

Ivy frowned, glancing toward the hallway clock. "But the food, I need to take it—"

"I’ll bring it to you," Eliana interrupted gently but firmly. "Trust me. You’ve done enough for now. He needs a little space. I’ll talk to him, ease the tension... You don’t have to worry. I’m here for you."

Ivy hesitated, chewing her lower lip. "Are you sure?"

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

Relief washed over Ivy, and for once, she didn’t feel entirely alone. She reached forward and hugged Eliana tightly. "I’m so glad I have you. I mean it."

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

With a final grateful look, Ivy turned and rushed quietly toward the hallway, careful not to draw any attention. Once she slipped into the guest room and closed the door behind her, she exhaled deeply. She felt lighter. Calmer. Hopeful.

Though Eliana had offered to help and she was glad, she doubted Stefan would listen to her but whatever the case would be, Stefan was going to let his guard down after Eliana finished speaking to him and that she was sure of.

Eliana waited until the coast was clear before her smile faded completely.

She turned toward the kitchen window, arms folding across her chest.

"I’ll talk to Stefan, alright," she murmured under her breath. "Just not the way you think."

The clock ticked on. And the evening began to creep in like a slow, inevitable tide.

In no time, the front door opened with a soft click, and Stefan stepped into the living room, the scent of polished wood and faint vanilla lingering in the air. The late evening sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting golden slants of light across the marble floor.

He slipped off his coat with ease, his sharp eyes scanning the familiar space. The past three days had changed everything. Sight—his sight—was no longer a fading hope but a regained truth. The world had returned in color and detail, and with it came clarity he hadn’t had in weeks.

So when he noticed the woman lounging on his couch with her legs crossed like she owned the place, he didn’t need to hear her voice to know who it was.

"Eliana," he said coolly, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

She rose smoothly, brushing imaginary lint off her tailored blouse. "Stefan." Her smile was pleasant, practiced. "You’re back early," she said, glancing once st the wall clock.

"I live here," he said bluntly, shrugging one hand into his shirt sleeve as he walked further into the room. "You, however, do not."

Her smile didn’t falter, but her eyes flickered. "I know. But I thought we could talk. About Ivy."

"She’s not here," Stefan said, tone flat. "So if that’s what you came for, you’re wasting your time."

Eliana laughed softly and took a few steps toward him, her heels clicking against the tiles. "And how can you be so sure? You didn’t even check the entire house. You walked in and decided she’s not here. Confident, aren’t you?"

Stefan narrowed his eyes. Something about her tone was off. Too casual. Too... slick and more than that, he needed to know why she was in his house, relaxed and talking to him the way she was. He folded his arms slowly. "What exactly are you implying?" fr\(e)ew(e)b.(n)o (v)(e)l.com

Eliana tilted her head, the soft curls of her dark hair falling slightly to one side. "Only that for someone so intelligent, you’ve been rather blind to Ivy’s manipulations all these years. It’s tragic, really. She’s a pitiful little fool, and somehow you still let her crawl back every time."

Stefan’s jaw tensed. His expression darkened, but he didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he stared at her—really stared. The angles of her face, the curl of her painted lips, the bitterness in her gaze as she spoke about the woman she called her friend.

For some weird reasons, Ruby had never liked Eliana, even he never did and now... now he could see why. She was a snake.

He took a slow step forward. "Tell me something," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "Isn’t Ivy your best friend? Or was all that just for show too? I wonder what she’ll say when she hears the poison you’re spitting behind her back."

Eliana chuckled. The sound was humorless, cold. "Oh, please. I’m not losing sleep over Ivy. I came here to warn you, Stefan. Because whether you like it or not, she’s planning something. Something desperate. You might think she’s given up on you but I tell you, she’s not."

He raised a brow. "And what makes you think I care?" he asked, not wanting to give her the benefit of thinking he was enjoying listening to her rubbish.

Eliana’s eyes gleamed. "Because it concerns her. Ruby."

At the sound of her name, something shifted behind Stefan’s eyes. A flicker of rage. A thread pulled taut but Eliana didn’t stop. Infact, she knew that was when she needed to continue.

"Ivy’s scared, Stefan. She knows she can’t compete with Ruby. She never could. So now she’s planning her next move—cooking up meals, and delivering it to you, pretending to be some mysterious caterer, hoping you’ll soften up. She was going to show up at your office when you’re vulnerable and say she cares." Eliana scoffed. "She’s trying to manipulate you, Stefan. To keep you from going after the woman you actually—"

"Eliana," came a sharp, breathless voice from the hallway.

Both Stefan and Eliana froze as they heard the voice, louder and clear. It was Ivy’s.