THE BILLIONAIRE’S EXCHANGED BRIDE

Ariana ~

The drive back to the estate was entirely silent.

In the back of the sleek black limousine, the partition window remained rolled up, sealing us off from the driver. Ethan sat close to me, his arm draped easily over the plush leather seat behind my shoulders. He occasionally glanced down, his obsidian eyes softening with a warm, deep affection as he watched the city lights play across my face.

He didn't know the truth. To him, I was Aria—the woman he had loved, cherished, and planned his entire empire around for the last six years. The man beside me wasn't a cold stranger; he was a deeply devoted partner who thought he had finally reached the happiest day of his life.

When the car rolled through the massive iron gates and glided up the private driveway, Ethan gently took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. His touch sent a warm, terrifying shiver straight up my arm.

"We're home, my love," he murmured softly, his voice low and rich.

He stepped out of the vehicle first, immediately turning back to offer me his hand, steadying me as I stepped onto the paved stone courtyard. Together, we walked up the grand steps into the mansion.

The heavy mahogany door clicked shut behind us with a quiet finality.

I stood frozen in the center of the sprawling master bedroom, clutching the stiff fabric of my wedding dress. The room reeked of expensive cologne, cedar, and raw, intimidating power.

Ethan dropped his heavy suit jacket onto the leather armchair by the window, turning back to me with a gentle, breathless smile. He looked completely captivated, his gaze roaming over my face as if he still couldn't believe we were finally married.

"You're awfully quiet tonight," he teased softly, stepping closer and reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from my cheek. His knuckles brushed my skin with a tender warmth.

My heart skipped a beat. For a terrifying second, I thought he saw right through me—that he noticed the way my breath hitched or how my posture wasn't quite right.

I forced a tight, shaky smile to my lips. "I... I'm just tired, Ethan. It's been a long, overwhelming day."

Ethan’s expression instantly melted into pure understanding. He pulled me gently toward him, wrapping his strong arms around my waist and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead. He figured it was just typical Aria drama—overwhelmed by the cameras, the wedding, and stepping into the massive Vaughn dynasty.

"I know, baby," he murmured against my hair, his edge completely absent, replaced by the deep, protective devotion he always reserved for her. "Go on, unwind. Take off that heavy dress. We have a long, beautiful life ahead of us."

Without another word, he pressed one last tender kiss to my lips before turning and walking into the adjoining bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

The sound of running water filled the air, and I let out a shaky breath I felt like I'd been holding since I walked down the aisle. He loved her so deeply. And for tonight, that love was the only thing keeping me safe.

★

Twenty minutes later, the bathroom door opened.

Ethan stepped out wearing only a pair of dark silk pajama pants low on his hips, his upper body bare and glistening with faint moisture from the shower. The sharp, rugged lines of his chest and the toned muscle of his stomach caught the dim lamplight, making him look breathtakingly attractive.

I sat stiffly on the edge of the velvet armchair across the room, staring down at my hands.

Ethan stopped dead in his tracks, wiping a towel over his damp hair. His dark gaze dropped from my face down to the king-sized bed covered in expensive silk sheets, and then back to me, his brows pulling together in a warm, playful frown.

"What are you doing over there, beautiful?" he asked, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that always made my stomach flip.

I swallowed hard, looking up through my lashes. "I... I thought I'd sleep here. In the chair."

Ethan chuckled softly, tossing the towel onto the dresser. He crossed the room in three deliberate strides, gently hauling me to my feet by my hands.

"Ethan—" I breathed, stumbling softly against his warm, bare chest.

"Come here, you," he whispered, his hands sliding up to cup my face, his thumbs gently stroking my cheekbones. His obsidian eyes burned down into mine, full of an intense, possessive warmth. "You are my wife now. You don't sleep in chairs on our wedding night."

"I just thought you'd want space—"

"Never," he cut me off smoothly, his gaze dipping down to my lips before rising back to meet my eyes with a tender smile. "Get into that bed where you belong. Come on."

Before I could protest, he scooped me up effortlessly into his arms, carrying me over and setting me gently down onto the center of the massive mattress.

I scrambled back, pulling the heavy duvet over my legs as Ethan turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into a deep, shadowy quiet. The mattress dipped as he crawled in beside me, pulling me against his side with a natural, possessive familiarity.

Even as he wrapped a heavy arm around my waist to keep me close, his touches remained respectful, giving me all the space and time he thought his beloved Aria needed. I lay there in the dark, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, drowning in the suffocating guilt of knowing that every bit of that love was meant for a ghost.