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Aurelia Monroe, just twenty years old, is forced into a marriage she never agreed to-thrown into a life not meant for her, all because her stepsister ran away the night before the wedding. The arrangement was never hers. It was meant for Celeste-the golden child, the flawless daughter who had always been their pride. But when Celeste vanished to escape the fate she detested, the family turned to the one girl they never truly accepted. Orphaned young, Aurelia had grown up learning not to rely on anyone. She was raised on silence, disappointment, and survival. She wasn't fragile. She wasn't naïve. But nothing prepared her for this. Now she must take her sister's place and marry Damian Everhart-a cold, calculating heir who doesn't care who walks down the aisle, as long as the wedding happens. To him, this union is nothing more than strategy. To Aurelia, it's a cage. But Aurelia has never been one to break. If she must be a pawn in someone else's game, then she'll learn how to play. And if the world expects her to suffer in silence... They clearly don't know who she is.
Chapter 1 The Bride Who Wasn't Chosen
The scent of roses made her stomach turn.
Aurelia stood still, surrounded by white silk and gold ribbons, her palms trembling beneath the delicate lace gloves someone else had chosen for her. Everything about the room screamed of luxury-expensive candles, imported flowers, the soft rustle of designer fabric-but none of it belonged to her.
Not the dress.
Not the day.
Not even the groom.
The mirror in front of her reflected a stranger. A woman draped in ivory, eyes wide with the kind of fear she had spent years pretending not to feel.
"You look beautiful," someone whispered behind her. It was her stepmother, eyes glistening with fake warmth. "Just like Celeste would have."
Aurelia didn't respond. Her throat had closed the moment she'd been told she would be taking Celeste's place. It had been three days ago-three endless days since Celeste disappeared in the dead of night, leaving behind nothing but a letter and a scandal that threatened to destroy the Monroe name.
Aurelia had known exactly what would happen.
She had seen it in her stepmother's eyes.
The choice was never hers to make.
"You owe us," her stepmother had said, voice as sharp as broken glass. "After everything we've done for you, this is the least you can do."
Done for her?
Aurelia had nearly laughed. What had they done, really? Raised her in a home where she was always second-best? Given her meals, yes-cold ones. A roof, yes-but never warmth. And now, they were giving her to a man who didn't know her name until three days ago.
Damian Everhart.
Even the name felt like ice in her mouth. He was heir to the Everhart fortune-ruthless, brilliant, untouchable. Everyone in the city knew his name. Everyone feared him or wanted him. Aurelia had only seen him once, from afar, years ago at a charity gala. He hadn't spared her a glance.
And now she would be his wife.
The ceremony was beginning. Music floated in from beyond the doors, gentle and hollow. Aurelia's heart pounded harder with every step the bridesmaids took down the aisle. She had never felt so exposed. So helpless. But when the doors opened for her, she stepped forward anyway.
Not for them.
Not for Damian.
But because she refused to be a coward-not like Celeste.
The crowd rose to their feet. Cameras flashed. Aurelia focused on breathing. On staying upright. On not running. Then she saw him.
Damian stood at the end of the aisle, expression unreadable beneath cold gray eyes. He was taller than she remembered. Sharper. His tailored suit fit like armor, and his gaze met hers like a blade pressing against skin.
She couldn't tell if he was disappointed or indifferent.
He didn't smile.
Good. Neither did she.
Every step toward him felt like a step toward a fire she couldn't escape. But she didn't flinch. She met his stare head-on, defiance simmering beneath her calm mask.
When she reached him, he didn't offer his hand.
She didn't expect him to.
The ceremony moved forward like a dream she couldn't wake up from. Words were spoken. Vows were repeated-empty and brittle. Rings were exchanged. And then...
"You may kiss the bride."
Damian leaned in, his breath ghosting against her cheek. "Let's make this look real," he murmured, his voice low enough only she could hear.
Before she could respond, his lips brushed against hers-chilled, practiced, detached.
There was no affection.
No passion.
Just a transaction sealed with a kiss.
When it was over, the applause came like thunder.
And still, Aurelia felt nothing.
The reception was a blur of false congratulations and champagne she didn't drink. Everyone wanted to speak to the new Mrs. Everhart, but no one really saw her. She was a symbol. A solution. A distraction from the scandal.
By the time they arrived at the estate that would now be her home, it was nearly midnight.
The car ride had been silent.
She followed Damian through the grand halls of the Everhart manor-cold marble floors, towering windows, the kind of wealth that was meant to remind people of their place.
He stopped in front of a door and turned to her.
"This will be your room."
She blinked. "Not... ours?"
Damian's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Let's not pretend, Aurelia. We both know what this marriage is."
A beat of silence.
"Celeste didn't want it," she said, her voice quiet. "I didn't either."
He folded his arms. "And yet here you are."
Aurelia straightened her shoulders. "Because I was given no choice."
Damian stepped closer. "Then maybe you should've run like your sister."
"She had the luxury of running," Aurelia snapped, anger flaring in her chest. "Some of us don't."
He studied her. For a moment, she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes-curiosity, maybe even respect-but it vanished as quickly as it came.
"You'll stay out of my way," he said finally. "Play the role. Be quiet. And in a year, when the contract ends, we'll go our separate ways."
"A contract," she repeated bitterly. "That's all I am to you?"
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "And nothing more."
Aurelia lifted her chin. "Then don't expect me to smile for the cameras or pretend to adore you."
His gaze darkened. "Then don't expect kindness from me, either."
He walked away.
The door to her new room shut behind her with a finality that stole the air from her lungs. She stood there for a long time, staring at nothing, listening to the silence.
This wasn't a marriage.
It was a sentence.
But Aurelia Monroe had survived worse.
And if Damian Everhart thought she would break easily...
He had no idea who he just married.
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