Married to the man I shouldn't love
She was never supposed to be the bride.
Lila Hart has always lived in her older sister's shadow, Evelyn, the perfect daughter, the favorite, the one chosen to marry Adrian Blackwell, the cold, powerful billionaire heir who controls half of Manhattan. But forty-eight hours before the wedding, Evelyn disappears. No explanation, No goodbye. Just a single warning: "Don't let him find out what I did."
Now the Hart family is about to lose everything, their reputation, their company, their future, unless Lila steps into the role her sister abandoned.
So Lila becomes the replacement bride
A marriage born out of duty for her... and pure anger for him.
Adrian doesn't want a wife, He wants answers. And he's certain Lila knows more about Evelyn's disappearance than she claims. They swear they'll keep their distance, No love,No trust, Just a contract neither of them asked for.
But the night of the wedding, a violent warning arrives, proving Evelyn didn't run away, She was taken. And whoever has her... wants Lila next.
Now Lila is trapped in a marriage built on secrets, hunted by enemies she can't see, and falling for a man she was never supposed to love.
Because the most dangerous place for her... might be right beside her husband.
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Chapter 4
The ride back to the penthouse was painfully quiet. Adrian sat me in the car, his posture rigid, his attention fixed on the skyline ahead. He didn't speak, but I could feel the tension radiating from him like heat from a furnace. Whatever his father had said, whatever suspicions had been stirred, they were already building into something dangerous inside him.
When we entered the penthouse, he removed his jacket with the sharp, controlled movements of someone trying very hard not to lose control. I stood near the door, unsure whether I should walk away or wait for him to speak.
"Sit," he said finally.
Not a request. A command.
I obeyed, taking a seat on the far end of the velvet sofa. Adrian remained standing for a moment, his back turned to me, his hand braced against the marble counter. Then he exhaled slowly, the kind of breath people release only when they've spent hours denying how tense they truly are.
He turned around, his eyes fixed on me in a way that made my pulse jump.
"What did my father say to you?" he asked.
"He asked if I was afraid," I said quietly.
"And what did you tell him?"
"That I wasn't."
"And was that the truth?"
My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Adrian's eyes narrowed slightly, almost like he was frustrated but not surprised.
"I told you already," he continued, "my father sees everything. He's looking for cracks. Weakness. Lies." His voice softened just a fraction-not gentle, but not cruel either. "So if you are afraid, you should say it. At least to me."
My heart twisted unexpectedly.
Adrian wasn't a man who asked questions he didn't want answers to. And he wasn't someone who offered space, even small space, for honesty. But tonight something felt... different. Thinner. Sharper. More exposed.
"I'm not afraid of you," I said.
He studied me. Long enough that I wondered if I should have lied.
"But I'm afraid of this," I admitted. "Of being here. Of pretending. Of disappointing you. Of making a mistake."
His expression didn't fully change, but something in his eyes shifted-slightly, enough that I noticed.
"You will make mistakes," Adrian said. "Everyone does." His voice dipped lower. "But lying to my father is not one you can afford."
I nodded slowly. "I understand."
He walked closer, stopping only a few steps away. "You're not Evelyn," he said-not accusing, just factual. "And you never will be."
A painful pang hit my stomach, but before I could respond, he added, "But that doesn't mean you can't survive this marriage. My father may doubt you, but he doesn't decide what happens between us."
Between us.
The words lingered longer than they should have.
There were footsteps outside the penthouse doors before I could respond-quick, deliberate. A second later, Marcus Hale stepped inside without knocking, wearing a charcoal suit and an expression that said he knew exactly how unwelcome the interruption was.
"Apologies," Marcus said, not looking apologetic at all. "But we have a problem."
Adrian stiffened. "What kind of problem?"
Marcus glanced at me briefly before turning back to Adrian. "Your father's driver was seen talking to a private investigator tonight. Someone is digging into Evelyn's disappearance."
My stomach dropped.
Adrian's eyes darkened immediately. "Who hired the investigator?"
"We don't know yet," Marcus replied. "But if your father is behind it-"
"He is," Adrian said instantly. "He doesn't trust what he can't control."
Marcus's gaze flicked toward me again, softer now, assessing. "This puts Lila at risk."
I swallowed, feeling the weight of those words settle into my spine.
Adrian's jaw clenched. "Nobody touches her."
There was nothing gentle about the way he said it. It wasn't affection. It wasn't kindness. It was a warning-a promise sharpened to a blade.
Marcus nodded. "Then we need to get ahead of this. Fast."
Adrian turned back to me. "You are to stay inside the penthouse until I say otherwise."
"Am I... in danger?" I asked.
"Not yet," he said. "But you might be soon." Then softer, almost reluctant, "And I don't want you walking into anything unprepared."
The room felt warmer suddenly, the air heavier. Adrian looked away first, as if he'd revealed more than he intended.
Marcus cleared his throat. "Actually, there's something else." He held up his phone. "A photo of Evelyn surfaced online tonight."
My heart almost stopped. "Where?"
Marcus hesitated. "Brooklyn. Two nights ago."
Adrian stepped forward. "Show me."
Marcus handed him the phone, and I leaned in without realizing it. The image was grainy, taken from across the street. But it was unmistakably her-Evelyn, in a black coat, hair pulled back, looking over her shoulder like she was expecting to be followed.
Adrian's expression barely moved, but Marcus must have seen something because he said, "You know what this means."
Adrian handed the phone back, his voice low and controlled. "It means Evelyn hasn't disappeared. She's hiding."
My hands trembled. "Why would she hide in New York? If she didn't want the wedding, why not leave the country?"
Adrian looked straight at me then.
"Because she wasn't running from the wedding," he said. "She was running from something else."
Marcus added quietly, "Or someone."
A cold shiver ran down my spine.
For the first time since the marriage, I wasn't thinking about the wedding or my parents or even Adrian's father.
I was thinking about Evelyn.
What had she seen?
What had she done?
And why had she told me not to take her place?
Adrian rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Marcus, get the security team on standby. I want extra surveillance around the penthouse. No one gets near her."
Marcus nodded and left quickly, giving me one last reassuring look as he closed the door behind him.
When we were alone, Adrian returned to standing in front of me, his presence filling the room in a way that made it hard to breathe.
"You're not to worry," he said quietly. "I'll handle this."
"I'm not worried about me," I admitted. "I'm worried about Evelyn."
Adrian's eyes lifted to mine, and something softened-barely there, but real.
"I'll find her," he said. "But until I do... you stay with me."
His words weren't tender, but the weight of them settled deeper than any comfort I expected.
I nodded slowly, unable to look away from him.
"Okay."
Adrian exhaled, stepped back, and started to turn away-then paused, as if deciding something.
"Lila."
"Yes?"
"If anyone asks," he said, "you're my wife. And I protect what is mine."
The statement pulled the air from my lungs.
Not affectionate.
Not romantic.
But a warning wrapped in something dangerously close to devotion.
And for the first time since the wedding, I wondered whether the real danger wasn't the Blackwell family...
but the man I had just married.
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8.2
Bougth love
8.2
The story begins among the vine rows of the San Lorenzo Estate in the Guadalupe Valley. To Hanna Román, this land isn't about money; it's the living memory of her father, the man who taught her that every grape holds the secret of time. However, since his death, Hanna's world has been falling apart. Her mother, Doña Elena-a woman whose entire identity is tied to her last name and her jewelry box-has squandered the family fortune in a desperate attempt to keep up appearances among Mexico's elite.
Debt is closing in, and the banks are threatening to seize the hacienda. This is when Elena plays her final card: her daughter. Hanna is young, beautiful, and possesses a purity that stands in stark contrast to the decay of high society, making her the family's most valuable asset. Elena reaches out to the Montes family, a lineage of financial sharks, and proposes a deal that feels like it belongs in another century: a marriage alliance in exchange for wiping out the Román family's debts.
The Clash of Two Worlds
Sergio Montes doesn't believe in fate, only in statistics. As the CEO of Montes Holdings, his life is a whirlwind of private jets and board meetings in Mexico City skyscrapers. He is strikingly handsome but glacially cold. He accepts the deal not for love or even desire, but out of strategic necessity: his grandfather, the patriarch of the empire, has given him an ultimatum to inherit the presidency of the company-he must "settle down" and project a solid family image.
Their first meeting at a luxury restaurant in Mexico City is a total train wreck. Hanna arrives with the dust of the hacienda still in her soul and her pride wounded; Sergio arrives with a legal contract in hand. He looks at her as just another acquisition-a beautiful but silent asset. She looks at her as the executioner of her freedom.
The Paper Pact
The contract is signed with clear clauses:
A two-year public marriage.
Living together in Sergio's penthouse in Mexico City.
Hanna receives the funds to modernize San Lorenzo but cannot return to live there until the contract expires.
Any real emotional involvement is strictly forbidden.
The beginning of their life together is a cold war. Hanna feels suffocated by the city and Sergio's controlling nature. He, in turn, is caught off guard by her resistance. Hanna isn't the "trophy wife" he expected; she secretly studies agronomy, reads up on commercial law, and questions his every move.
Cracks in the Armor
The turning point comes when Sergio is forced to visit the San Lorenzo Estate for an audit. Away from his concrete jungle, he sees a different Hanna: passionate, a leader, and deeply connected to the land. For the first time, the arrogant CEO feels a crack in his armor. The physical attraction that was always humming beneath the surface like an electric current finally explodes during a storm at the hacienda, where the contract stops being about paper and starts being about skin.
However, Hanna's mother, Elena, isn't done with her schemes. Seeing Sergio start to soften, she fears losing her grip on the money and begins leaking information to the press to sabotage the relationship-leading Hanna to believe that Sergio is planning to sell the hacienda behind her back to build a hotel complex.
Climax and Redemption
The perceived betrayal breaks Hanna. She flees the city and retreats to the vineyards, ready to lose everything rather than stay with a man who thinks everything has a price. Sergio, faced for the first time with something he can't buy with a check, has to choose between his empire and the woman who taught him how to feel.
The end of the story isn't just about saving the San Lorenzo Estate; it's about the transformation of them both. Sergio has to swallow his pride to ask for forgiveness, and Hanna has to learn that love-even when it starts as a transaction-can be the only absolute truth in a world of appearances.
7.0
For three years, I played the perfect, submissive wife to Alpha Julian Sterling.
When I finally got pregnant with his heir, I thought it would warm his cold heart. But the first thing he did when he returned from his trip was hand me a Mate Rejection Agreement.
He had brought back his ex-lover, Serena.
Julian coldly declared our marriage was just a political chore. To clear the path for her, he fired me from the company I built, watched her mock my late father, and threatened to throw me out as Rogue meat if I didn't submit.
The most chilling part was a hidden clause in the divorce papers. It stated that because I was a wolfless Omega, if I were ever pregnant, he would terminate the pup to protect his pure bloodline.
I had given him everything, only to be discarded like trash. I touched my flat stomach, terrified and disgusted that the man I loved would gladly kill his own child just to please his new queen.
"Prepare the documents to accept the rejection," I told my lawyer calmly.
Julian thought he had won, throwing away his useless, barren Omega. He had no idea I was taking his only heir with me, and I would burn his entire empire to the ground before he ever found out.
9.6
In a world where mates are found by scent, he should have known but he didn't.
The richest supernatural billionaire in the city. The most feared Alpha of the most powerful pack. Untouchable. And cursed, or so he believes is unable to smell his true mate.
Yet something keeps pulling him toward her. No scent. No bond. Only a relentless, inexplicable obsession.
She knows the truth. She knows he is her mate. But revealing herself would put them both in danger, and risk exposing secrets she has fought to keep buried.
Now, every glance, every accidental touch, every near encounter drags them closer to a connection neither of them can deny.
In a city of shadows, power, and hidden wolves, can love survive when the bond cannot be smelled, yet cannot be ignored?
8.5
Hadley married into the Jacobson family, a ruthless Wall Street empire. Her prenuptial agreement was absolute: she wouldn't touch a penny of the family wealth until she produced an heir.
But one rainy night, she used a copied keycard to enter a secret Tribeca penthouse, only to find her husband tangled in bed with a famous actress.
When she slapped the divorce papers in front of him, Cleveland didn't apologize.
"The party who files walks away with nothing. You will die in this position."
He tore the documents to pieces. To protect his flawless public image, he forced Hadley to attend family galas, smirking coldly while his grandfather publicly humiliated her for her "barren" stomach. When Hadley finally fought back and confronted his mistress, Cleveland snapped. With a single phone call, he froze her bank accounts, revoked her access to their home, and left her stranded in a cold parking garage.
She had given up her independence for a man who treated her like a useless breeding machine. He thought he could erase three years of her life in an instant, confident that his money made him invincible.
But Cleveland didn't know she was holding the ultimate weapon to destroy his precious legacy. As he received a frantic call about his mistress and rushed to his SUV, Hadley finally screamed the agonizing secret she had hidden for years.
"I can't give you an heir! It's over!"
Watching his taillights disappear into the dark, Hadley prepared to burn his empire to the ground.
8.9
He made one mistake-he chose revenge instead of mercy.
Luna's sharp tongue and careless drunken words should have been harmless. Instead, they mark her as a target for Daimen Blackwell, a billionaire who doesn't forgive and never forgets.
What begins as punishment turns into possession when he forces her into a contract that binds her to him as his mistress-his rules, his house, his bed.
Luna is naïve in love but not in spirit, and her defiance slowly becomes the one thing Daimen can't control. Somewhere between power plays and stolen moments, he wins her heart-only to destroy it.
When Daimen betrays her, Luna leaves with nothing but shattered trust. And that's when he discovers the truth: she is the woman he has been searching for all his life.
This time, the billionaire has nothing left to bargain with.
Only regret. Only groveling. And the hope that love might survive the damage he caused.
7.9
I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone.
While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward.
The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property.
I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage.
Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole.
"You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are."
I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.