THE LIE THAT WORE A RING - Chapter 5: Chapter 5
You are reading THE LIE THAT WORE A RING, Chapter 5: Chapter 5. Read more chapters of THE LIE THAT WORE A RING.
The wedding was quiet.
No media, no guests beyond a select circle of Dominic’s closest friends and business allies. Alina wore a cream silk dress, minimal makeup, and a carefully measured smile. The children weren’t at the ceremony. Dominic insisted they be introduced slowly.
“We’ll do it the right way,” he’d told her. “No pressure. Just honesty.”
But Alina didn’t believe in honesty. Not anymore.
She walked down the aisle with her secrets buried beneath every elegant step.
Two weeks later, Alina stood at the threshold of the Crane estate—not as a guest, but as its mistress. As Mrs. Alina Crane.
The staff greeted her with polite smiles and stiff backs. They had heard the whispers. Everyone had. She was too young, too beautiful, too unknown. They’d expected him to remarry someone from his circle—an heiress, a socialite, a widow with class.
Instead, he’d married a woman with no roots and a history that couldn’t survive a Google search.
She had already heard what they called her behind closed doors:
"The gold-digging ghost in silk."
But she didn’t care.
Because now the house was hers.
The first time she met the children, she wore soft pastels, minimal perfume, and a forced warmth in her eyes.
Nathaniel—twelve, sharp, quiet, protective—stared at her like he was reading a warning label.
Sophie—eight, bright-eyed, skittish, clinging to her father’s leg—barely spoke a word.
Dominic tried to bridge the space with patience.
“This is Alina,” he told them gently. “She’s part of our family now.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “Is she gonna be… our mom?”
Alina knelt slowly, keeping her smile fixed and soft. “Only if you want me to be. I’m not here to replace anyone.”
Nathaniel folded his arms. “Good. Because no one can.”
Dominic placed a firm hand on his son’s shoulder, but Alina raised a hand.
“It’s alright,” she said, her voice velvet. “He’s protecting what matters to him. That’s what strong men do.”
That softened Dominic’s face.
But Nathaniel didn’t flinch.
The days passed slowly.
Dominic left each morning for work. The children for school. And Alina stayed behind—walking the estate like a queen in exile, mapping every hallway, every locked door, every staff member’s loyalty.
She smiled at the maids. Complimented the chef. Had tea with the housekeeper. But she listened closely. There were always whispers. Always someone who spoke too freely when they thought she wasn’t paying attention.
“She’s too calm. Too polished.”
“He barely knows her.”
“The children don’t trust her.”
They were right.
She wasn’t here to be liked.
She was here to stay.
At night, when Dominic came home, he’d kiss her cheek and wrap his arm around her waist like they were living some quiet fairytale. She’d cook with Sophie, play chess with Nathaniel—always gentle, always perfect. At dinner, they sat as a picture of blended family life.
But at night, when the children were asleep and the house was still, Alina’s eyes would turn cold.
She lay beside Dominic as he drifted into sleep, one arm still draped around her, and stared at the ceiling.
She didn’t know how to love this family.
But she knew how to break it.
And slowly, carefully, she’d begin.
No media, no guests beyond a select circle of Dominic’s closest friends and business allies. Alina wore a cream silk dress, minimal makeup, and a carefully measured smile. The children weren’t at the ceremony. Dominic insisted they be introduced slowly.
“We’ll do it the right way,” he’d told her. “No pressure. Just honesty.”
But Alina didn’t believe in honesty. Not anymore.
She walked down the aisle with her secrets buried beneath every elegant step.
Two weeks later, Alina stood at the threshold of the Crane estate—not as a guest, but as its mistress. As Mrs. Alina Crane.
The staff greeted her with polite smiles and stiff backs. They had heard the whispers. Everyone had. She was too young, too beautiful, too unknown. They’d expected him to remarry someone from his circle—an heiress, a socialite, a widow with class.
Instead, he’d married a woman with no roots and a history that couldn’t survive a Google search.
She had already heard what they called her behind closed doors:
"The gold-digging ghost in silk."
But she didn’t care.
Because now the house was hers.
The first time she met the children, she wore soft pastels, minimal perfume, and a forced warmth in her eyes.
Nathaniel—twelve, sharp, quiet, protective—stared at her like he was reading a warning label.
Sophie—eight, bright-eyed, skittish, clinging to her father’s leg—barely spoke a word.
Dominic tried to bridge the space with patience.
“This is Alina,” he told them gently. “She’s part of our family now.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “Is she gonna be… our mom?”
Alina knelt slowly, keeping her smile fixed and soft. “Only if you want me to be. I’m not here to replace anyone.”
Nathaniel folded his arms. “Good. Because no one can.”
Dominic placed a firm hand on his son’s shoulder, but Alina raised a hand.
“It’s alright,” she said, her voice velvet. “He’s protecting what matters to him. That’s what strong men do.”
That softened Dominic’s face.
But Nathaniel didn’t flinch.
The days passed slowly.
Dominic left each morning for work. The children for school. And Alina stayed behind—walking the estate like a queen in exile, mapping every hallway, every locked door, every staff member’s loyalty.
She smiled at the maids. Complimented the chef. Had tea with the housekeeper. But she listened closely. There were always whispers. Always someone who spoke too freely when they thought she wasn’t paying attention.
“She’s too calm. Too polished.”
“He barely knows her.”
“The children don’t trust her.”
They were right.
She wasn’t here to be liked.
She was here to stay.
At night, when Dominic came home, he’d kiss her cheek and wrap his arm around her waist like they were living some quiet fairytale. She’d cook with Sophie, play chess with Nathaniel—always gentle, always perfect. At dinner, they sat as a picture of blended family life.
But at night, when the children were asleep and the house was still, Alina’s eyes would turn cold.
She lay beside Dominic as he drifted into sleep, one arm still draped around her, and stared at the ceiling.
She didn’t know how to love this family.
But she knew how to break it.
And slowly, carefully, she’d begin.
End of THE LIE THAT WORE A RING Chapter 5. Continue reading Chapter 6 or return to THE LIE THAT WORE A RING book page.