Chapter Two

ADRIAN

I never wanted to get married. I had already decided on a surrogate for the day I wanted a child. Then Father decided I was marrying Celeste Blackwood. He said the merger would make Thorne group the strongest. I refused. 

Grandfather made a phone call after that, and I couldn't say no. Either I married Celeste, or I could hand my seat at the head of Thorne Group to my cousin and go find something else to do with my life. That was the only reason I stood at that altar today.

At least they hadn't handed me a total stranger. I'd seen Celeste enough times over the years to know her face, her voice, the particular way she laughed too loud whenever she came around the estate to see my sisters.

 Except the woman seating at the far edge of the room tonight didn't laugh at all. She pressed into the corner,her back flat against the wall, like she was trying to fold herself into the wallpaper and vanish.

Good, I thought. Let her sit with what she'd signed herself into. If she'd finally understood exactly who she'd married, maybe I'd be spared that laugh for the rest of the evening.

I crossed the room and reached for her veil. The second I lifted it, I knew.

This wasn't Celeste.

I had her pinned to the wall before she could get a breath out, my forearm braced near her collarbone, close enough to feel her pulse jumping. "Who are you?" My voice came out harsh. 

"Who sent you?" I searched her face for something familiar and found nothing. A stranger. A very frightened stranger.

"I asked you a question." My grip tightened without my permission. "Who did I just marry?. Where is Celeste? Someone paid you to walk in here and sabotage this wedding, right?. How much? I barked.

She didn't answer. Instead her chest rose and fell too fast.

"Answer me!." I leaned in.

"Get your hands off me." Her voice cracked on the last word, as she shoved at my chest. "You think I want to be here? You think this is some fantasy of mine, marrying a man that looks at people like they are nothing?" 

Her breathing hitched. "How much was I paid? Even if someone handed me every dollar in that account of yours, I would never have chosen this. Let go of me."

I loosened my grip, more from surprise than mercy.

"Start explaining yourself." I stepped back half a pace, arms crossing. "Or you'll regret ever thinking this was a clever plan."

"There was no plan. Not mine, anyway." 

She rubbed at her wrist where my fingers had been. "Your bride ran. I don't blame her though. I think anyone with a working brain would run from marrying you. Honestly, no offense”. 

"Mr. Blackwood grabbed me because I happened to be there. He threatened me "

Before I could answer, the door opened without a knock and Charles stepped in, tablet in hand. Eignt years working beside me, and this man still hadn't learned to knock like a normal human being.

"Mr. Thorne." He caught himself halfway through the doorway. "Sir. There's…, there's a situation developing outside. Whispers among the guests. Someone's saying the bride was a substitute." His eyes finally landed on the two of us, and he stopped dead. "That isn't Miss Celeste."

"No, Charles. It isn't." I kept my voice even, though nothing about the last ten minutes felt even. "I'm still working out who exactly she is."

"Well, thank God the public doesn't really know Miss Celeste. But whoever she is, you cannot say anything." 

"See, the market’s reacting." He held the tablet toward me, numbers already sliding red across the screen.

"We can’t announce a fraud or a divorce right now. Remember, Mr. Whitmore is intensely family-oriented, and if he gets even a whiff of scandal before we sign the merger at his anniversary gala in two weeks, he’ll pull out and tank our stock.”

I took out my phone and dialed my lawyer.

"Draft a marriage contract, Now. Bring it to where I am within half a hour." I hung up before he could ask a single question, then turned back to the woman still standing there.

"Now. Listen carefully, Miss."

"Monica." Her chin lifted a fraction. "My name is Monica."

"I don't care." The words left me before I could soften them, and I watched her swallow hard.

 "You're going to play my devoted wife. In public, for the cameras, for the board. Six months. Till this whole thing gets sorted out."

"No." She said it fast, no hesitation at all. "I am not spending six months pretending to be anyone's wife.

 Especially not yours." Her hands balled at her sides. "Who exactly do you think you're talking to? Some employee you can hand a script? Her voice shook, but it didn't stop.

I actually stared at her for a second too long.

People didn't say no to me. Yet this woman looked me dead in the eye and refused me.

It was, against every instinct I had, almost impressive.

"Remember something." I let the silence stretch, watching her posture tighten with every second. "Mr. Blackwood already threatened you once tonight. I could make that threat look like a kindness by comparison, if I wanted to. But I'm not interested in threats right now. I'm proposing something else."

Her jaw stayed set, but her eyes flickered, just slightly, toward the door, like she was doing the math on how fast she could get through it.

"Ten million dollars." I held her gaze, watching for the smallest crack. "For six months.”