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Married in My Sister's Stolen Wedding Dress Novel Cover

Married in My Sister's Stolen Wedding Dress

I never wanted to wear Sienna's gown, but standing in for her on that altar made me Nikolai Volkov's wife—a man who accepted the substitute without hesitation. Being his bride felt like fate, yet I was nothing more than a diversion. A locker key, a secret club ledger, and my flower shop's suspicious payments reveal the truth: Sienna fled with Damian Rossi, and my role was never love—it was bait. When she crashes a gala and turns the blame on me, my future with Nikolai depends on whether he trusts blood or evidence. I'm finished being used, even when she begs for rescue—I refuse to remain anyone's spare bride.
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Chapter 1

My sister vanished ninety minutes before she was supposed to marry Nikolai Volkov.

My mother locked the dressing-room door and shoved Sienna’s beaded gown into my arms.

I had spent eleven months keeping my flower shop alive after my father used it as collateral, even selling my grandmother’s pearl earrings when collectors came for the rent.

Now my family wanted one more thing from me: stand at the altar, take the blame, and keep the Volkovs from calling in their debt.

I planned to tell Nikolai the truth the second he lifted my veil.

He looked straight at my face and said, “Continue.”

When my father tried to pull me aside after the vows, Nikolai removed his hand from my arm.

“No one touches my wife.”

For the first time in my life, someone had chosen me before Sienna.

Then I heard voices behind the closed library door.

“You married the wrong sister,” Lev said.

“No,” Nikolai answered. “I married the one her family was willing to sacrifice.”

“And if Sienna never comes back?”

“Then Aria stays useful until the people who helped her come looking.”

***

"Put it on," my mother hissed, shoving the heavy beaded silk against my chest. "Sienna has been missing for ninety minutes."

I stumbled back, the tulle of my sister’s wedding dress scratching my bare arms. "You want me to walk down the aisle?"

Celeste locked the dressing room door with a sharp snap. "The Volkovs are waiting. We need to stall them."

"Stall them by faking a bride?" I dropped the bouquet I had been repairing. "What about my shop?"

Eleven months ago, my father mortgaged Bellini Blooms to cover his debts. When his loan sharks blocked my storefront, I sold my grandmother’s pearl earrings just to keep the doors open. My parents called it a family duty.

Now, they wanted me to take the fall as the jealous sister who hijacked the wedding, all to buy Sienna time.

"Your flowers don't matter right now!" Celeste grabbed my shoulders. "Put the veil on. When they find out, we'll handle the fallout."

I didn't shed a tear. I stepped into the dress and pulled the zipper exactly halfway up my spine.

"I'll walk out there," I said, my tone entirely hollow. "But the second I reach Nikolai, I'm telling him the truth."

The organ music swelled, vibrating through the cathedral floorboards.

I walked the long red carpet alone.

At the altar, Nikolai Volkov stood perfectly still. He didn't wait for the priest's cue. The moment I stopped in front of him, he reached out and flipped the thick lace veil over my head.

He didn't flinch. His dark eyes locked onto my face.

"Aria," he said, his voice smooth and untroubled.

In the front row, my father Victor and my mother froze. Celeste’s knuckles turned white on her clutch.

"Sienna is gone," I announced. The acoustics carried my voice straight to the front pews.

Whispers erupted behind me like dry brush catching fire.

Nikolai ignored the chaos. He stepped closer, invading my space.

"Are you pushed up here," he asked, "or did you decide to stay?"

I glanced past his shoulder. Victor furiously mouthed the word debt at me. Celeste dug her fingernails into the upholstery of Sienna's empty chair.

They expected me to cower. Nikolai offered no cover for their lie.

I turned my focus back to the groom. "I'm staying to keep my name clean and my shop open."

Nikolai studied me for a fraction of a second. Then he faced the officiant.

"Continue," he commanded.

The priest stammered, wiped his brow, and rushed through the vows. Ten minutes later, Nikolai slipped a platinum band onto my finger, binding me to a man I barely knew.

The reception hall buzzed with frantic gossip. Before I could grab a glass of water, Victor yanked me by the elbow into a dim side parlor.

"You tell the press you girls planned a swap," my father spat, backing me against the velvet wallpaper. "When Sienna returns, the engagement goes back to normal."

"I am legally married, Dad."

"It's a piece of paper! We'll annul it once she's back."

The heavy oak door swung open, hitting the wall with a dull thud.

Nikolai walked in. He didn't raise his voice or offer a grand romantic speech. He simply clamped his hand over Victor's wrist and pried his fingers off my arm.

"The Volkov family does not trade wives like ledger entries," Nikolai stated, tossing my father's hand aside.

Victor straightened his jacket, his face flushing dark red. "She's just the little sister, Nikolai. Sienna is your match."

"She is my wife." Nikolai stepped between us, blocking my father from my line of sight. "Do not touch her again."

A strange tightness gripped my chest. He was using this marriage to stabilize his own family's optics, but he refused to let the Bellinis treat me like a rented tuxedo.

Before we returned to the reception, the officiant brought the marriage license into the side parlor. I read every line before signing. My hand shook once when I reached the surname field, but I wrote Aria Bellini rather than borrowing Sienna's identity for one more second. Nikolai signed beneath me without comment.

"The certificate changes your legal status," the officiant said carefully. "It does not transfer ownership of your separate business unless you execute another agreement."

I looked at Victor. His expression tightened. That answer mattered. Whatever my parents imagined they had bought with this wedding, Bellini Blooms was not automatically included.

Twenty minutes later, I retreated to the bridal suite to strip off the suffocating beaded gown.

While packing Sienna’s discarded jewelry, I popped open the hidden bottom compartment of her velvet ring box. My fingers brushed against a stiff piece of cardboard.

I pulled it out. A yellow Grand Central locker ticket.

The time stamp read 10:00 AM—exactly two hours before the ceremony.

I squeezed the ticket in my palm and marched down the hall toward the VIP lounge to find my new husband.

Outside the cracked door, a man's voice drifted into the corridor. It was Lev, Nikolai's right-hand man.

"You knew they swapped them before she even reached the altar. Why go through with it?"

I stopped walking.

"Sienna didn't vanish without help," Nikolai replied, his tone calculating. "Aria is the one the Bellinis are most willing to sacrifice. By making her my wife, I force whoever took Sienna to recalculate their leverage."

My stomach turned.

I shoved the door wide open. Lev jumped. Nikolai merely turned his head, his expression unreadable.

"Am I just bait?" I demanded, walking straight up to his desk.

Lev slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Nikolai didn't look away. "Initially, yes. That was the strategic play."

"You could have warned me."

"You didn't need a warning. You needed a shield from your parents." He leaned against the mahogany edge. "But I will not keep you blind to the board."

His blunt honesty hit me harder than my family's endless fake apologies. He didn't pretend to care, but he didn't lie.

I uncurled my fist and slapped the yellow cardboard ticket onto the polished wood between us.

"Then take me to open this locker," I told him. "Right now."

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