The Billionaire's Unwanted Bride

The first thing I felt was the wall against my cheek.

Cold. Hard. Unforgiving.

My wedding nightie was shoved up around my waist, the thin white fabric bunched under my breasts, and I could feel the stretch of him still buried deep inside me. His breath was hot and whiskey-sour against the back of my neck. One of his hands pinned both of my wrists above my head. The other stayed locked on my hip, holding me in place like I might try to run.

Three hours ago I stood in front of a lot of people and said “I do” to a man who thought I was my sister. Now that same man was fucking me against the wall of a bedroom that smelled like money and expensive cologne, and every rough thrust reminded me exactly how little choice I had left.

My name is Sloane Vex.

I was never supposed to be the bride.

And I wasn’t the type to be forced into marrying someone I had never wanted. I have always believed that particular fate would simply pass me by.

But thanks to my parents, it happened successfully—quietly, efficiently, and without a single thought for what I might have wanted.

It started three weeks ago, an ordinary Tuesday afternoon when the late summer heat made the old house feel stifling.

I was in the small sitting room no one else ever used, trying to lose myself in a book I have read twice, when Lark appeared in the doorway.

She looked perfect, as always—golden hair falling in soft waves, a pale pink dress that somehow made her seem both delicate and expensive. For once she wasn’t wearing the usual expression of mild contempt she reserved for me.

“Please can you do me a favour?” she asked.

That was the first time she had spoken nicely to me in years.

I stayed silent. I didn’t want to talk to her. Years of careful distance had taught me that answering her only invited more trouble.

She stepped farther into the room and closed the door behind her with a quiet click.

“I know I’ve always been rude to you,” she said, her voice softer than I had heard it in a long time. “But I can’t marry Kaelan. I love Maxwell and I want to run off with him.”

She went straight to the point.

I lowered the book slowly. “What? Aren’t you in love with Kaelan?”

She rolled her eyes, a flash of the familiar Lark returning for a second. “I don’t love him. Don’t you know I have a boyfriend? Oh come on, are you going to help me or not?”

Kaelan Thorne was the only son of the Thorne family, the richest family in the city.

My father owed them a debt large enough to ruin us completely. But because Kaelan had taken a liking to Lark, his family was willing to erase the entire amount in exchange for her hand in marriage. The arrangement had been presented as a perfect solution. No one had asked Lark how she felt about it.

“I cannot go against Father and Mother,” I said carefully. “You and I know very well that all the blame will fall on me.”

“Sloane, please just help me,” she pleaded.

“I can’t help you if it’s about Kaelan and Maxwell stuff…”

“Please help me,” she said again, this time with a small pout that looked almost genuine.

I stared at her. “What do you even want me to do?”

She reached out and held my hand, her fingers cool and insistent. “Take my place at the altar, please.”

My eyes widened in shock.

“What?” I shook my head hard. “I can’t do that. No, no, Lark, that’s impossible. I can’t even imagine doing that.”

“Please,” she said, tears suddenly gathering in her eyes. “I need to run off. I need to go. Maxwell is the one I love.”

“No, Lark. It will cause a lot of trouble.” I pulled my hand free of her grip and shook my head again.

“I’m begging you, Sloane. You know I’ve never begged you for anything before.”

She was right. Lark had never asked me for anything in her life. She had demanded, ignored, dismissed but never begged me. The fact that she was doing it now felt strange and almost alarming.

I couldn’t even imagine going against my parents, especially not by taking my sister’s place at the altar. They would never forgive it. They might never even believe it had been her idea.

“If you’re going to do something like that,” I began, “I guess I’ll tell Mom and Dad…”

“Hey, don’t be foolish,” she cut in, confidence flooding back into her voice. “You know they won’t even believe a single word you say.”

She wasn’t wrong. My parents had always believed Lark over me. They always would. My word carried almost no weight in this house.

She put both hands on my shoulders and smiled, the expression soft and persuasive. “Sloane, you’re my big sister. I don’t want us to have issues, so just help me this one time. And besides… you’ll get to be free. Kaelan is rich. He’ll take care of you.”

Yeah. I wanted to be free. More than almost anything. But freedom through marriage to a stranger didn’t feel like freedom at all.

“You will do it, right?” she asked, searching my eyes carefully for the answer.

Even though I didn’t want to get married yet, even though the thought of standing in front of all those people as someone else’s bride made my stomach twist, the idea of finally being free from a family that had never once cared about my feelings was what I wanted most.

Slowly, against every instinct that told me to refuse, I nodded.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “I’ll help you.”