Chapter 2 : Celia  'The Wrong Bride'

I should have told him.

The moment Adrian said Sienna's name, I should have stepped back and told him the truth.

I should have said I wasn't her. I was Celia.

The spare daughter. The substitute bride. The woman forced into a marriage by her own parents.

But my throat closed, no words coming out.

Maybe it was because I was too shocked. Or because I already knew the truth wouldn't save me.

Adrian's fingers lingered against my cheek for a brief moment before they dropped. His eyes were dark, heavy with whiskey and exhaustion.

"Trembling already?"

I hadn't even noticed that until then.

I quickly tried to steady myself. "I..."

But he wasn't listening.

He slowly took off my veil and let it fall onto the chair behind me. His eyes skimmed over my face again, but there was still no recognition in them.

Was he really that drunk?

"Too late to run now," he muttered quietly.

Before I could protest, he was over me, his lips pressing against mine with desperation.

I should push him off. He didn't know who I was in this state, but a part of me just felt numb to it. A part of me needed to feel wanted, loved. And before I knew it, I couldn't even stop if I wanted to.

Morning came fast.

I woke first, pale sunlight slipping through the curtains. The room smelled faintly of whiskey and sex. My wedding dress was gone, probably bunched somewhere. A sheet was pulled over my naked body, and beside me, Adrian still slept.

My husband.

The word itself felt wrong as the memory of last night came rushing back.

What the fuck had I done?

My chest tightened so hard I almost couldn't breathe.

I pushed myself upright carefully, every movement stiff and miserable. I had barely reached the edge of the bed when Adrian stirred behind me.

"What are you doing?"

I froze, slowly turning around.

He was awake now, one arm braced behind him, eyes narrowed against the light. His gaze rested on my bare shoulder first, then moved to my face, before widening in shock.

"What the hell..."

My fingers tightened around the sheet. "Adrian..."

He sat up fully, staring at me like I had become a stranger overnight.

"Who are you?"

I swallowed hard. "I'm Celia."

He kept staring.

"I'm Celia Rowan."

His eyes sharpened with horrifying speed. "The fuck? Where's Sienna?"

I pulled the sheet tighter around myself. "She refused to come."

For a moment, he looked like he hadn't understood the words. Then rage settled over his face with terrifying calm. "They sent you instead?"

The shame of it made my whole face burn. "I didn't choose this."

His laugh was short and vicious. "Yet somehow you ended up in my bed."

That hit like a slap.

Before I could answer, his phone began ringing on the bedside table. He grabbed it immediately, looked at the screen, and his expression darkened further.

"Sienna," he called, answering at once.

I heard crying from across the room even without speaker.

Adrian's jaw hardened as he listened. "Say that again."

My stomach dropped.

He looked at me while she spoke, his eyes getting colder with every second.

"She locked you in the basement?" he repeated.

I stared at him.

What?

"And forced herself to take your place?" he asked next, voice flat.

No.

No, she couldn't be doing this. I already sacrificed myself and body for her.

When he lowered the phone, the silence in the room was unbearable.

"I didn't do that," I blurted. "She's lying…”

My own phone suddenly started ringing, my mom’s name lighting the screen.

A sick feeling rose inside me.

Adrian held out his hand. "Answer it."

My fingers shook as I picked up. "Mom..."

"Celia," Marianne screamed, her voice sharp with obvious fake distress. "What have you done?"

My breath caught.

"You know what happened."

"You trapped your sister and took her place?"

I couldn't even process how easily she was saying it. "That's a lie. You know it is, you force…"

"SHUT UP!" she shrieked. "I'm ashamed to have someone as despicable as you as a daughter. Will you die if you stop shaming this family?"

The bed seemed to sink beneath me.

Adrian suddenly took the phone from me before I could respond and put it on speaker. My father's voice came through a second later.

"Mr. Lancaster, I apologize for my daughter's idiocy. The girls argued, Celia was desperate, then locked her sister and took her place. She'll definitely be punished, but the marriage has happened. For the sake of both families, I think we should handle this privately."

Adrian's face turned to stone.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then his eyes slowly shifted to me.

I had never seen a man look so insulted.

"So this was your plan?" His voice was low, dangerously low. "Make your sister back out and force your way in?"

"No." My answer came out ragged. "That isn't what happened."

"Really?" He tossed the phone onto the bed. "Because your sister, your mother, and your father all seem very certain."

"They're lying."

"And why would they lie for you?"

I stared at him. "No. They're lying against me."

His mouth curled in cold disgust. "Do you expect me to believe that. After you just tricked me to sleep with you?"

My face burned harder. "I tried to leave. They wouldn't let me."

He rose from the bed, grabbing his shirt from the floor and dragging it over his shoulders with hard, angry movements.

"Yet here you are. What were you expecting? Money? Assets?."

"I don't want any of that! I had no choice."

He let out a humorless laugh while buttoning his cuffs. "There's always a choice."

Was there?

Because from where I stood, stripped raw in a stranger's room, every choice I ever had had been made by somebody else.

I looked at him, and understood he too like everyone else in my life didn't care. Not about the truth or what my family had done.

Only that he'd been made a fool of.

"You think I wanted this marriage?" I whispered.

His expression didn't soften. "Didn't you?"

He stepped closer, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.

"Since you wanted this marriage so badly," he murmured, "I'll give you exactly what you deserve."

A chill crept down my spine. "What does that mean?"

"It means this marriage stands."

I blinked at him. "What?"

"You heard me." His gaze moved over me with contempt. "You wanted the title? The ring? The Lancaster name? Fine. Keep them."

I could only stare.

He continued, each word landing like a strike. "The contract your father signed binds this marriage for a year. A full year before any separation clause can be triggered without public fallout. Since you schemed your way in, you'll stay and play the role."

"I did not scheme…"

"Enough." The single word cracked through the room. "You'll live in the east guest suite. You'll show your face when necessary. You'll keep your mouth shut and stay out of mine."

A knock landed on the door.

One of the maids stepped in, froze at the tension, then lowered her eyes.

"Sir?"

"Prepare the east guest suite," Adrian ordered. "Mrs. Lancaster is moving there immediately."

The maid nodded quickly and disappeared.

I wrapped the sheet tighter around myself, refusing to let the tears in my eyes fall in front of him.

He noticed anyway.

That only seemed to annoy him more.

"You should be grateful," he bit out. "Any other man would drag your family into the dirt for this."

I lifted my chin, though my whole body felt like it might split apart. "Then maybe you should."

Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise, maybe. Or anger that I still had enough pride left to bite back.

He grabbed a silk robe from the foot of the bed and threw it at me.

"Get dressed. I'm done looking at this pathetic act."

My hands trembled as I caught it. I slipped it on in silence, tying the sash with clumsy fingers while he picked up his jacket.

At the door, he stopped and glanced back.

"You may wear my ring," he murmured. "You may live under my roof. People may call you Mrs. Lancaster if that fantasy helps you sleep."

My throat burned.

"But let's get one thing straight, don't ever mistake yourself for my wife. Talk more of a Lancaster."

And with that, he walked out, leaving me alone.