ARRANGED TO BE BILLIONAIRE'S SUBSTITUTE BRIDE

Avery's POV 

The mirror didn’t lie, but I almost wished it would. My reflection stared back at me, a stranger dressed in white. 

The lace of the wedding gown scratched my skin, the tight corset pressing against my ribs. I could barely breathe, and my chest felt heavy, not just from the suffocating fabric but from the thought of what was about to happen.  

This wasn’t my dream. It wasn’t my choice. It wasn’t supposed to be me.  

“Do this for the family, Avery,” my father’s words echoed in my head like a haunting melody. That was all he had said, as if my life could be reduced to a single move on his chessboard. 

He hadn’t asked how I felt, hadn’t cared about my future or my heart. To him, I was nothing more than a means to an end. 

Behind me, my stepmother lingered with that practised smile plastered on her face. Next to her stood Sadie, her golden hair perfectly curled, her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 

Sadie, the perfect one. Sadie, the one James Blackwood was supposed to marry.  

I clenched my fists. It wasn’t me James wanted. I was the replacement.  

The memory of how this arrangement came about still stung. My dad had made a deal while we were much younger; that was after my mom died and we were in crisis. 

The deal was that one of us would be married to his grandson James. But on the day James's grandfather made the choice, he selected me instead of Sadie for reasons I couldn’t fathom. 

Sadie had cried, screamed, and begged, but none of it had changed the outcome. Now, here I was, about to walk down the aisle to marry a man who didn’t want me.  

Sadie stepped closer, her perfume suffocating in the confined space. “Ready?” Her voice was sugary sweet, but the glint in her eyes betrayed her bitterness.  

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I’m not ready.”  

Her smile didn’t waver. “Doesn’t matter. You don’t have a choice.”  

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat refusing to budge. Sadie leaned in, her voice low. “James will come around. He’ll see you’re the one he’s meant to be with.”  

Her words were a lie. I could see it in her eyes, hear it in her tone. She didn’t believe what she was saying, and neither did I. James loved her, not me.  

The door creaked open, and my heart sank. It was time.  

The soft hum of the organ drifted through the air as I stood at the entrance to the chapel, clutching the bouquet so tightly that the stems bit into my palms. 

My steps felt wooden, as though my body moved on its own while my mind screamed to run. Every gaze in the room bore into me, judgment and curiosity mingling in their expressions.  

And then I saw him.  

James stood at the altar, a statue carved from ice; his jaw was clenched, his eyes filled with arrogance. He didn’t look at me, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the room. 

Resentment radiated from him, each line of his body screaming his disdain for what was about to happen.  

The closer I got, the more suffocated I felt. When I finally reached him, my knees trembled so badly I thought I might collapse. I dared a glance at him, but his expression didn’t soften. If anything, his glare became colder.  

The officiant began, his voice a dull drone in my ears. The words blurred together until it was time for the vows. 

“Avery Wynter,” the officiant said, turning to me. “Do you take James Blackwood to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?” 

My throat tightened, the words lodging there like thorns. I glanced at James, but his expression gave me no comfort, no reassurance. My father’s words echoed in my head. ‘Do this for the family’.  

“I... I do,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. 

The officiant turned to James. 

“James Blackwood, do you take Avery Wynter to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?”  

Silence.  

The room seemed to hold its breath as James' jaw ticked. For a moment, I thought he might say no, and I almost reveled in joy, but before I could, he replied with a voice as cold as his gaze. “I do.”  

Each word was like a shard of ice piercing my heart.  

The officiant continued, but I barely heard him. When it came time for the rings, James slid the band onto my finger without so much as a glance, his touch mechanical and detached.

 I placed his ring on his finger with trembling hands, feeling like I was sealing my fate.  

“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant said.  

James didn’t move as if he hadn't heard the command, and I felt embarrassment rush to my cheeks, fresh tears tugging at the side of my eyes.

Instead, he turned to the crowd, a forced smile plastered on his face. He offered his arm, and I took it, my hand trembling as it rested on his. 

I didn't want to kiss him either, but here I was making history as the most unfortunate wife who didn't get the wedding kiss.

I sighed as we walked down the aisle together, but it felt like I was walking to my execution.  

As soon as we reached the end, he let go of me and walked away without a word, leaving me standing there alone. 

The whispers started immediately, murmurs of pity and speculation filling the air. I ran away from their sight, not answering my dad's, stepmother's, or Sadie's calls as I slipped into one of James' cars and asked them to take me home.

After what felt like forever, we arrived home, but it wasn't my home; it was James's. I'd forgotten that I now had a new home; I was auctioned off…I was screwed!

Even if I wanted to return home, who wanted me? No one.

Hours later, I sat alone in the bedroom, staring at the discarded wedding dress crumpled on the floor. 

The door slammed open, jolting me out of my thoughts. James stormed in, his eyes blazing with anger. His tall frame towered over me, and I instinctively gripped the edge of the bed for support. 

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he spat, his voice cold and sharp. “Manipulating my grandfather into choosing you as his precious bride for me? Did you think I wouldn’t see right through you?” 

My heart dropped. “I didn’t manipulate anyone,” I said softly, trying to keep my voice steady, though the fear creeping into my chest made it hard to breathe.

“Don’t lie to me!” he snapped, stepping closer. His words cut like knives, and I could feel the venom in his tone. “I know exactly what kind of person you are, Avery.” 

“I’m telling you the truth,” I said, my voice trembling now. “I didn’t ask for this.”  

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You didn’t ask for this? Sure, because it just magically happened, right? You’re no different from your mother.”  

The words stung, deeper than I wanted to admit. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, forcing myself to meet his glare, even as my body begged me to look away.

James didn’t answer. Instead, his hand shot out and gripped my arm tightly. Pain flared where his fingers dug into my skin, and I gasped.

“You want my name? My fame?” he hissed, his face mere inches from mine. “Fine. You’ll have it. But you’ll regret ever marrying me. I’ll make sure of it.” 

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Let go of me,” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.  

His grip only tightened, and I winced, the sharp ache radiating through my arm. His anger was suffocating, a storm I couldn’t weather.

Finally, with a look of pure contempt, he shoved me away and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

The silence that followed was deafening. My legs felt like they could barely hold me up, and I sank onto the edge of the bed, my entire body trembling. 

My gaze fell to my arm, where angry red marks were already beginning to darken into bruises.  

I traced the outline of them with my fingers, the pain more than just physical; I felt a lump ris

e in my throat. The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over as I sobbed hard. 

I was trapped in a nightmare, and the worst part was, I couldn’t see a way out.