Married to My Ex-Fiancé’s Billionaire Brother

Twenty-seven minutes before my wedding, I heard my stepsister moan my fiancé’s name.

I froze outside the groom’s private suite.

“Adrian…”

My fingers tightened around the phone he had forgotten downstairs.

No.

Not Sabrina.

Not Adrian.

I pushed the door open.

My entire world shattered.

Sabrina was pressed against the wall, her lipstick smeared.

And Adrian, my fiancé, the man I was supposed to marry in less than half an hour, had his hands around her waist.

They sprang apart.

“Elena.”

Adrian went pale.

Sabrina stared at me.

Nobody spoke.

I looked at Adrian’s half-buttoned shirt.

Then Sabrina’s swollen lips.

“How long?”

“Elena, let me explain.”

“How. Long?”

Adrian glanced at Sabrina.

That tiny look between them was enough.

My stomach turned.

Sabrina lowered her eyes.

“Six months.”

The words struck harder than a slap.

Six months.

I laughed, but it came out broken.

“You helped me choose my wedding dress.”

Sabrina swallowed.

“Elena—”

“You sat beside me while I tried on dresses to marry the man you were sleeping with?”

“I never meant for this to happen.”

“For six months?”

“Elena, enough.”

My eyes snapped to Adrian.

“Enough?”

“The ceremony starts soon. People are waiting.”

I stared at him.

“You think there’s still going to be a wedding?”

His expression hardened.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

He stepped toward me.

“What happened here was a mistake.”

“A six-month mistake?”

“It meant nothing.”

Sabrina flinched.

Adrian didn’t even notice.

“Our families have millions tied to this merger,” he continued. “Investors are downstairs. The press is outside. You cannot destroy everything because you’re emotional.”

Because I was emotional.

I looked at the diamond on my finger.

Eight months ago, Adrian had placed it there and promised I would never regret choosing him.

Apparently, he had mistaken my love for stupidity.

I pulled off the ring.

His face changed.

“Elena.”

I placed it on the table.

“Marry Sabrina.”

Sabrina’s eyes widened.

Adrian grabbed my wrist.

“Stop.”

I looked down at his hand.

“Let go of me.”

“You need to calm down.”

“Let. Go.”

Something in my voice made him release me.

Then the door opened.

“Elena!”

My mother rushed inside.

My heart sank.

She took one look around the room and seemed to understand immediately.

But she didn’t look shocked enough.

I noticed.

“Mom?”

She hesitated.

That hesitation broke something else inside me.

“You knew?”

“No. Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“I suspected Adrian might have… made mistakes.”

I stared at her.

“And you said nothing?”

“Because today is bigger than Adrian’s mistakes.”

Unbelievable.

My mother reached for me.

“Elena, listen to me. Hundreds of people are downstairs. The Hart-Blackwood agreement depends on this marriage.”

“So I should marry a man who has been sleeping with my sister?”

“Stepsister,” Sabrina murmured.

I turned slowly.

“Say that one more time.”

She went silent.

My mother lowered her voice.

“You can deal with Adrian privately after the ceremony.”

There it was.

The solution everyone expected from me.

Smile.

Walk downstairs.

Protect the family.

Fix the problem.

Again.

Adrian stepped closer.

“Your mother is right. We’ll work this out.”

I looked at him.

He truly believed I would stay.

Because I always stayed.

I had forgiven forgotten birthdays and cancelled plans.

I had defended him to friends.

I had spent years becoming the woman everyone needed.

And somehow, nobody had bothered becoming someone I deserved.

“No.”

Adrian frowned.

“What?”

“I said no.”

“Elena—”

“The wedding is over.”

His face hardened.

“You walk out now, and you’ll regret it.”

“Maybe.”

I looked at Sabrina.

“But not as much as I’d regret marrying you.”

I lifted my dress and walked out.

My mother called after me.

Adrian did too.

I kept moving.

Down the corridor.

Into the service elevator.

Through the hotel lobby.

My phone started ringing before I reached the side entrance.

Mom.

Decline.

Adrian.

Decline.

Again.

Decline.

Then a message appeared.

Stop embarrassing yourself and come back.

A second followed.

You know you can’t afford to walk away from this marriage.

I switched off my phone.

The moment I stepped outside, cameras flashed.

“Elena!”

“Where’s Adrian?”

“Is the wedding cancelled?”

“Why are you leaving alone?”

My breath caught.

I was standing outside in a wedding gown with no groom.

Humiliation burned through me.

Then a black car stopped at the curb.

The rear door opened.

A man stepped out.

Tall.

Dark suit.

Cold expression.

I knew him immediately.

Damien Blackwood.

Adrian’s estranged older brother.

The billionaire Blackwood nobody discussed without lowering their voice.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

Damien’s eyes travelled over my wedding dress before settling on my bare ring finger.

Something dark flickered across his face.

Not surprise.

That frightened me.

“Elena.”

“How do you know my name?”

One corner of his mouth lifted.

“I know considerably more about you than your name.”

Another camera flashed.

Damien opened the car door.

“Get in.”

“Why?”

“Because in approximately thirty seconds, those reporters are going to realize the bride is running away.”

I didn’t move.

“Why would you help me?”

His gaze held mine.

“I hear my brother no longer needs a bride.”

My heart stumbled.

“What does that have to do with you?”

Damien stepped closer.

Close enough that I caught the clean, dark scent of his cologne.

His eyes dropped briefly to my empty ring finger.

Then returned to mine.

“Fortunately,” he said, “I do.”