All Chapters of MARRIED BY MISTAKE: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

It never occurred to Aria Hale that her sister's wedding day would end with her own marriage license. Pushing through the glass doors of the New York City Marriage Bureau, she held the manila envelope to her chest. Immediately, chaos erupted: clerks yelling names, couples yelling over paperwork, and phones ringing nonstop. A bride in a discolored white gown was yelling at her groom about his mother while a baby cried close to the fountain.Aria wanted to disappear—one job. Deliver the documents. Leave. Invisible, like always. "Next!" a clerk barked, waving impatiently from behind the scratched plexiglass. Aria stepped forward. "Hi, I'm here to—" "Name?" "I'm not—" "NAME?" "Aria Hale. I'm just delivering—"Ariana Hale!" Her stomach dropped."No, that's my sister. I'm Aria, not—" "You responded to the name. Good enough." The clerk shoved a clipboard through the slot. "Fill this out. Your groom's already twenty minutes late. If he doesn't show in ten, you forfeit your slot.""But I'm not

Aria only had one suitcase. In the apartment she shared with two roommates, she sat on her small bed and gazed at the open luggage as if it could provide answers. Her phone buzzed. What did you bring when you moved into your unintentional husband's penthouse? Business casual, pyjamas, a weapon? An unknown number sent a text. In twenty minutes, the car will arrive.Be ready 2PM, type yes if you are seeing this." Just an order.Without checking, Aria tossed clothes into the suitcase. Pants. Sweaters. The lovely blouse she wore during her job interview. Underwear that was undoubtedly intended only for her eyes. She reached for her phone charger, laptop, and the little wooden box containing her grandmother's only pictures.After nineteen minutes, she watched a black Mercedes pull up to the curb while holding her pitiful suitcase on the sidewalk. Another vehicle. Same motorist. He gave her a nod, picked up her bag as if it were light, and held the door open."Miss Hale." Apparently, it's n

Aria was elbow-deep in work emails when the penthouse elevator chimed.She looked up from her laptop, confused. Leon wasn't supposed to be back until seven, and Sophia had left hours ago. The security system should have alerted her if someone was coming up.The elevator doors opened.A tiny woman dressed in a Chanel suit stepped out, followed by two men carrying luggages.She had white hair styled in an elegant up-do, her sharp blue eyes scanning everywhere, and the kind of posture that suggested she'd been trained to walk with books on her head. Diamonds glittered at her throat and wrists—not flashy, just casually worth more than most people's houses."Well," the woman said, her voice crisp and carrying. "You must be the girl who finally trapped my grandson."Aria's mouth fell open. "I—what—I didn't trap—""Relax, dear. I'm teasing." The woman waved the luggage men toward one of the guest rooms. "I'm Elena Mercer. Leon's grandmother. And you're Aria, the accidental wife who has my gr

The Metropolitan Museum's Great Hall glittered like something out of a fairy tale.Aria stood at the entrance beside Leon, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm, and tried to remember how to breathe. Crystal chandeliers cast prisms of light across marble floors. Women in designer gowns dripped with jewelry. Men in tuxedos talked business over champagne that probably cost more than her monthly rent.This was Leon's world.And tonight, she had to convince everyone it was hers, too."You are shaking," Leon murmured, his thumb stroking her hand where it rested on his arm. "Breathe.""There are at least three hundred people in there." Aria's voice came out thin. "All of them are judging. Whispering. Waiting for me to fail.""Let them wait." Leon turned to face her fully, his hands cupping her face. "Look at me."She did.His gray eyes were firm, unwavering, rooted in the maelstrom."You are Aria Mercer," he firmly declared. "My wife. Like everyone else, you belong here. And everyone in