All Chapters of Married The Wrong Groom: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyThe rain hadn’t stopped since the ceremony.It poured in thick, heavy sheets, tracing paths down the tinted windows as the limousine pulled through a long stretch of forested road. The city lights had long faded behind us, replaced by the dull hum of thunder and the rhythmic beat of rain against the car.I sat there in silence — my hands trembling in my lap. My thoughts were a blur of disbelief and panic. I was supposed to be on my honeymoon flight by now, not trapped in a car beside the man I don’t know.He hadn’t spoken a word since the church. And somehow, that silence was louder than anything else.“Where… where are we going?” I finally asked, my voice small, almost fragile against the rain.His gaze lifted lazily to meet mine. “Home.”Home, huh? The word felt like mockery.The car turned into a long, gated driveway, lined with iron lamps and trimmed hedges that looked too perfect — too guarded. The gates opened automatically, and the moment we entered, I re

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyAfter he left, I sat alone in the vast dining hall, the untouched breakfast before me growing cold. Every bite I forced down tasted like confusion and defeat.The maids moved quietly around me, careful not to meet my eyes. They bowed, offered faint smiles, and disappeared as swiftly as they came. Every movement felt mechanical, rehearsed — as though they’d all been told exactly how to treat me.I spent most of the morning wandering through the mansion, desperate to understand the man I was now bound to.Everything was sleek, modern, and impersonal — black marble, glass, steel, and silence. There were no personal photos, no warmth, no trace of human softness. Even the sunlight that poured through the wide windows felt muted, as if it were swallowed by the cold luxury surrounding me.My fingers brushed against the grand piano in one of the sitting rooms — dustless, perfectly polished, untouched.Does he even play? Or does he just own things to fill the silence?I

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyThe next two days crawled by like a slow, heavy fog—dense, suffocating, and endless. Every tick of the clock echoed louder than it should, each second stretching as if it wanted to test my sanity.The number of men stationed around the estate doubled. It seemed my failed escape had triggered something in Alexander—something that made him tighten his hold.I drifted through the mansion’s endless hallways, their silence so deep it almost hummed. The marble floors gleamed beneath my feet, mirrors reflected a stranger’s face—my own—and every door I opened led to the same emptiness.The maids treated me the same as always: polite, careful, distant. They bowed with their eyes downcast, spoke only when necessary, and vanished before I could ask anything real.Only Clara dared to speak a few human words. She brought tea to my room each morning and evening, a quiet act of mercy in a house that seemed allergic to warmth. But even that small comfort couldn’t silence the th

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyIt was eerily quiet.The faint taps of raindrops were the only sound—soft against the windows, distant on the roof—until a single knock echoed against my door, slicing through the silence like a blade.“How long are you planning to stay in this room?” His tone was cold, calm—almost too controlled. I didn’t bother looking at him.It had already been three days since that party. Three days since my world tilted, cracked, and refused to piece itself back together.The moment we got home that day, I felt as if a boulder had been placed on my chest, crushing me until I cried myself empty. I cried until the next morning, then cried again each time the memories threatened to drown me.Alexander didn’t say anything. He simply watched whenever he walked by my room. He didn’t care if I ate breakfast with tears in my eyes, lunch with a trembling hand, or dinner barely touching my throat.Last night, I got lucky. He was nowhere in sight. I managed to stay inside my room the

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyThat day, I managed to choose a different venue for my porcelain contest. It was another grand hotel that—apparently—Alexander also owned.I shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet somehow, I still was. With just a single phone call, he managed to secure a reservation at the Sovereign Suites—one of the most expensive and elegantly designed hotels in the entire city.Even renting one ballroom there could easily cost as much as a small company’s entire monthly revenue. Alexander insisted on being the one to inform Chester himself, and at that point, I simply allowed him to do whatever he wanted.After all, whether I liked it or not, he had been a tremendous help.I hate admitting it, but everything fell into place almost effortlessly—simply because I carried his surname, and because he was standing right beside me.So this is what it feels like… to hold the influence of someone who sits at the very top.I shook my head slowly and released a long, weary sigh as the