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Married to my sister's fiancè
Married to my sister's fiancè
Penulis: aleey

1. The Betrayal

Penulis: aleey
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-08-23 07:38:36

The scent of roses and incense clung to the air, too sweet, too suffocating for what was about to happen.

“But Mom… is that really necessary?” My voice cracked as I wiped at her tears.

Her hands trembled as she shook her head. “Your father is a cardiac patient. You know he won’t survive the shock if he finds out the betrayal your sister caused.” Her voice faltered, almost breaking. Then, she clasped her hands together in desperation, her eyes pleading with me. “Please, Layla. Please… save our family’s image. I beg you.”

The sight of her begging shattered me. I quickly grabbed her wrists, holding her hands still.

“Mom! How can you do this? Am I not your daughter too? Don’t beg, please. I’ll do it. I’ll do it, Mom.”

She broke into sobs and pulled me into a trembling hug. “I’m so sorry, my daughter. I never wanted this. But Yuri—she said she liked him as well.”

Her words sliced through me. I swallowed the bitter taste in my throat. “It’s okay, Mom,” I whispered, though my chest felt heavy. “She must have had her reasons.”

But I knew the truth. Yuri had cheated—on the man who was waiting outside, ready to pledge his life to her. And I… I was about to stand in her place.

The silk of Yuri’s wedding gown clung to my skin, mocking me with its elegance. The veil—her veil—fell over my face like a curtain, hiding the storm of tears I couldn’t hold back. I clutched my father’s arm tightly. He smiled, unaware, his steps steady as we began the walk down the aisle.

A sob escaped my lips.

“My sweet girl,” Dad whispered, his voice warm with pride. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman. I know you’ll do great things. I won’t stop being there for you, but now… someone else will be standing beside you.” His words broke me more with each step.

He paused, squeezing my hand gently. “There will always be problems, my sweetie, but never be afraid to come to me. I’ll always be behind you, no matter what.”

My tears blurred the faces in the crowd.

Then he chuckled softly. “I can’t find Layla anywhere. She must be doing her touch-up. She’ll miss you too.”

On the mention of my name, my heart twisted painfully. Mom sat silently in her chair, her eyes hollow, her hands clenched tight.

“I’m getting old,” Dad murmured, “but I want to see Layla happy, married, fulfilling her dreams someday. Though…” His tone dropped, almost teasing. “Do you think she could ever marry Liam? I never liked that boy.”

The name struck me like a knife. Liam—my Liam. What would I tell him when he found out?

The aisle stretched endlessly before me, each step heavy with lies.

Why did it feel like eternity? Why did I have to blindfold my father like this?

“She’ll be alright,” Dad said, his voice finally breaking. His eyes caught mine through the translucent veil. He froze. His face went pale as realization struck.

Too late. We reached the altar.

“Dad,” I whispered, shaking my head, begging him not to react.

“L-Layla—” His voice faltered, but Mom rushed forward, pulling him aside, whispering desperately for him not to make a scene.

“Bride, please step forward,” the priest’s voice boomed, merciless.

I wiped my tears and turned to face the man who wasn’t mine.

Xavier.

I barely heard the vows, my mind spinning. What would Liam do when he found out? Would Xavier expose me? Humiliate my parents?

The words blurred until suddenly:

“I do.”

Xavier’s deep voice echoed, and my head snapped toward him. It was too fast, too surreal.

Then it was my turn.

“Do you, take Xavier Russell to be your husband…”

I couldn’t breathe. But I heard myself whisper: “I do.”

Applause rippled through the hall.

“Congratulations. You may kiss the bride.”

My heart thundered in terror. Xavier lifted my veil, his eyes locking onto my face. His gaze was sharp, dark with fury. He turned briefly, throwing a glance at my parents, then leaned in closer until I could feel his breath.

The crowd erupted into claps and cheers, thinking he kissed me.

But his voice, low and venomous, was only for me.

“How dare you?”

A shiver ran down my spine.

He covered my face with the veil again, his expression unreadable, his fury hidden from the crowd.

The secret had only just begun.

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  • Married to my sister's fiancè    9. Lies

    I changed into my fifth outfit of the evening, staring at myself in the mirror with frustration tightening my chest. Dresses, skirts, jeans, blouses—everything either felt too much or not enough. I didn’t know why I cared so much. This wasn’t a date. This was Xavier. My husband. The man who wore his indifference like armor and barely spared me more than a few clipped words.And yet, there was this foreign warmth in my chest. A restlessness that made my palms sweat and my heartbeat race. It didn’t feel like dread. It didn’t feel like hatred. It felt… like home.I hated it.Finally, I settled on a soft cream dress, simple but delicate. My hair fell loose, brushing against my collarbone. My hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting, and I hated myself for waiting—like some lovesick fool—for the sound of his footsteps.And then he came.Xavier Russell walked into my room like he owned the air itself, his expression carved from stone. His white shirt clung to his shoulders, the sleeves rolled up, vein

  • Married to my sister's fiancè    8. Duties

    [Xavier's POV]Her body writhed under my mouth, every sound she made burning me alive. She was so close—too close. I could feel it in the way her thighs trembled, in the way her fingers tugged my hair like I was her lifeline.And then I stopped.Her gasp was sharp, her pout instant. “Why…?” Her voice cracked, half-cry, half-demand.I kissed the inside of her thigh instead, rolling my sleeves down with a curse under my breath. “Because you’re drunk, Laila. And tomorrow, you’ll hate both of us if I don’t stop tonight.”Before she could argue, I scooped her up into my arms bridal-style. Her head fell against my chest, her body already heavy with exhaustion. She mumbled my name, soft, needy, and it carved straight through my chest.“Sleep,” I whispered, carrying her through the halls.The maid hurried to open her door. I gave her a single look. “Change her into something comfortable. Make sure she rests.”The girl nodded quickly, and I laid Laila gently on her bed before leaving. My fists

  • Married to my sister's fiancè    7. Desires

    [Xavier]Her kiss hit me like fire.Warm. Messy. Desperate. Mine.For a second, I froze. I’d built walls, chains, rules. But the taste of her broke all of them.I kissed her back. Hard. Deep. My hand cupped her jaw, pulling her closer until her body melted into mine. She sighed against my lips, tasting like whiskey and sweetness, and suddenly nothing else in the world mattered.Laila pulled away, breathless, eyes glassy but blazing. “See? You do look at me,” she whispered.Before I could reply, she swung a leg over and settled on my lap. My pulse slammed. Her gown rode up, the heat of her pressing against me, ripping apart my control.“Laila,” I warned, my voice low. “We shouldn’t do this. You’re drunk.”She didn’t care. Her hands slid into my hair, her mouth hot against my neck as she ground her hips against me. A soft sound left her throat—needy, wrecking me.“Christ.” My grip on her waist tightened. The poison burning in my blood made restraint feel impossible.Then she shifted aga

  • Married to my sister's fiancè    6. Pinky Promises

    (Xavier’s POV)The crowd parted for me without a word. They always did. Power had a way of making space for itself, and I wore mine like a second skin. But as I closed the distance, my focus wasn’t on the investors, the cameras, or the whispers trailing behind me.It was on her.Laila.Head tipped against Adrian’s shoulder, drowning in his jacket. My cousin’s jacket. Her skin flushed, her movements slack, her perfume—wild and sweet—muddied with the sharp sting of whiskey.And Adrian… standing there like she belonged to him.A muscle ticked in my jaw as I shrugged off my tuxedo jacket. The weight of it slid down my arms, but the pressure in my chest only grew heavier.I didn’t stop until I stood in front of him. He didn’t move. Didn’t even look ashamed. His eyes locked with mine like a challenge.My voice was calm, but the edge was razor-sharp. “She doesn’t need your jacket.”I slipped it from her shoulders, slow, deliberate. My fingers brushed silk and skin—her skin—warm and tremblin

  • Married to my sister's fiancè    5. Whiskey

    Chapter FiveThe Russell estate was alive with light. Chandeliers spilled gold across marble floors, crystal glasses chimed, and the murmur of wealth hummed in every corner. It was the kind of gathering where every smile was rehearsed, every laugh calculated, and every person carried daggers in their pockets, hidden behind designer gowns and tailored suits.Xavier walked beside me, tall and sharp in a black tuxedo that looked as though it had been stitched to his frame. He wore no bow tie, only the open confidence of a man who didn’t need one. His presence was magnetic, the crowd parting for him like waves before the shore.And then there was me.Julia had worked her magic. My body was draped in a dark navy satin gown, the off-shoulder cut exposing the curve of my collarbone, the backless design brushing whispers against my skin. The fabric clung to me like water, catching the light each time I moved. My reflection in the mirrored walls barely looked like me—too polished, too flawless

  • Married to my sister's fiancè    4. Force

    When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the ceiling—high, white, unfamiliar. The sheets beneath me were soft, expensive, scented faintly of cedar and linen. For a fleeting moment, I forgot where I was. And then my gaze shifted.He was there.Xavier Russell.Lying beside me, his arm resting lazily against the pillow, his face calm, unreadable. His side of the bed looked untouched, as if he had been there only to watch me, not to sleep.A shiver slid down my spine. This wasn’t my room. It was his. His world. His rules. I didn’t belong here—and yet I was bound to it by vows spoken in panic and duty.“You’re awake.” Xavier’s voice was smooth, deep, but edged with his familiar, icy detachment. He rose with effortless grace, pulling on his jacket. “There’s someone here to see you.”My throat tightened. “Who?”He didn’t answer. His dark eyes brushed mine for a fraction of a second before he stepped out.My pulse quickened, my mind racing through possibilities. My parents? My sister?

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