My Sister Stole My Fiancé, So I Married His Brother

"How long?" I threw my phone onto the glass coffee table.

The audio of their moans played loudly in the quiet living room, echoing off the high ceilings. The video showed my fiancé and my younger sister tangled in hotel sheets.

Adrian didn't even flinch. He stood perfectly still, shielding Sophia behind his shoulder.

"Answer me," I demanded, stepping closer to him. "How long have you been sleeping with my sister?"

"Since last summer," Adrian said. His voice lacked a single ounce of guilt.

"Last summer?" A bitter laugh escaped my throat. "While I was in London negotiating the supply chain for your father's company?"

"Don't make this about business, Elena," Adrian sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair.

"It's always about business with you," Sophia chimed in, stepping out from his shadow. "You never loved him. You just loved the alliance."

"Shut your mouth, Sophia," I snapped. "You have no right to speak."

Adrian stepped forward, closing the distance between us. "Don't talk to her like that. I'm the one who pursued her."

I stared at the man I had known since childhood. "We get married tomorrow. The invitations are out. The press is waiting."

"I never loved you, Elena," he stated, his eyes cold. "You were just convenient. Sophia is the one I want."

"Then why didn't you cancel the wedding?"

"Because of me," a new voice interrupted.

My father, Richard Carter, marched into the living room, followed closely by my mother.

"Dad, tell them to get out," I said, pointing at the door. "The wedding is off."

"The wedding proceeds tomorrow," my mother said, crossing her arms. "But Sophia is wearing the dress."

I blinked, sure I had misheard her. "What?"

"Sophia is pregnant," my father stated flatly. "She carries the Blake heir. Adrian's child."

The room spun. My own family. My own blood.

"So you reward them?" I asked, my voice trembling. "What about me? I gave up Stanford for this family. I worked seven days a week!"

"And you will do one last thing for this family," my mother said. "You will marry Damian Blake."

"Damian?" I shoved my hands into my pockets to hide the shaking. "The CEO? The ruthless dictator who fired his own uncle?"

"He agreed to an arranged marriage with Sophia to secure our shipping routes," my father explained. "He hasn't met her in person yet. You look enough alike. You will take her place."

"I will not be your pawn," I yelled. "I'm leaving. I'm going to the press."

I turned for the door.

"Stop her," my father barked.

Before I could run, Adrian grabbed my arms, pinning them to my sides.

"Let me go!" I thrashed against him, kicking at his shins.

My mother walked over, holding a glass of water and a small white pill. "You're hysterical, Elena. Take your sedative."

"I won't!"

Adrian squeezed my ribs, forcing a gasp out of my lungs. My mother shoved the pill into my mouth and clamped her hand over my lips.

I choked, swallowing reflexively.

"Keep her locked in the guest room until it kicks in," my father ordered, turning his back on me.

Adrian dragged me down the hall. My legs turned to lead within minutes. The world went dark.

***

A harsh jolt woke me.

Leather seats squeaked beneath me. I blinked against the blinding afternoon sun filtering through tinted windows.

White lace suffocated my chest. A heavy veil pinned my hair down.

"Stop the car!" I lunged for the door handle. It wouldn't budge.

The driver didn't turn around. "Sit back, Miss Carter."

"Let me out!" I pounded my fists against the partition separating me from the front seat. The thick glass didn't even vibrate.

"Sit down," the driver repeated monotonously.

I clawed at the locks on the doors. Child-proofed. I searched the floorboards for anything sharp, any weapon to break the window. Nothing but spotless black carpet.

"Where are we going?" I demanded, my throat raw. "This isn't the venue I booked."

"We are going to the Blake Cathedral."

"Adrian's family church?"

"Mr. Damian Blake's family church," he corrected.

Panic surged through my veins. The sedative still clouded my brain, making my limbs heavy and uncoordinated. I slapped my own cheeks to wake up.

He steered the limousine through a massive wrought-iron gate. We parked in front of a sprawling gothic cathedral.

The locks clicked open. Two massive men in dark suits wrenched my door wide.

"Don't touch me," I snarled, kicking out. They had forced my feet into stiff white pumps that pinched my toes.

One guard grabbed my left arm. The other seized my right.

"Walk," the taller one grunted, hauling me out of the car.

"Help!" I screamed at a passing staff member. The woman just lowered her head and scurried away.

They dragged me up the stone steps, my dress scraping across the dirty concrete.

Organ music swelled inside the cavernous hall, echoing off stained-glass windows.

They shoved me through the heavy oak doors.

Hundreds of faces turned toward me. The entire Blake and Carter empires, sitting in silence.

My father waited at the end of the aisle. He grabbed my elbow, his grip bruising my skin.

"Stand up straight," he muttered, his fingers digging into my arm like iron claws.

"You are a monster," I whispered.

"I am a businessman. Smile at the cameras."

Flashes blinded me from the pews. Reporters lined the edges of the hall. This wasn't just a wedding; it was a corporate merger broadcast to the elite.

I looked at the altar. Adrian stood off to the side, wearing a sharp gray suit. Sophia stood next to him, wearing my original wedding dress. The dress I spent six months designing. She smiled at me, a sickeningly sweet expression of triumph.

Then I looked at the man waiting for me.

Damian Blake.

He wore a black tuxedo that seemed to absorb the light around him. He didn't fidget. He didn't smile. He watched me approach with the predatory stillness of a hawk.

"You drugged me," I whispered to my father, stumbling as he yanked me forward.

"For the family. Damian is waiting."

"I will tell him everything," I warned.

"Do it, and I bankrupt your personal accounts and sell the house your grandmother left you," my father countered effortlessly.

My stomach dropped. He had me cornered.

We reached the altar. My father shoved me toward the towering figure.

Damian didn't offer his hand. He merely stood there, radiating an icy, untouchable aura. His jawline looked carved from granite, and his posture screamed absolute authority.

The priest began to speak, but the words blurred together. My pulse hammered against my ribs.

"Do you, Damian Blake, take this woman..."

"I do," his voice rumbled, deep and devoid of warmth.

"Do you, Elena..." the priest paused, confused by the name on his card versus the rumors. He recovered quickly, clearing his throat. "Do you take this man?"

I opened my mouth. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run.

Damian reached out and ripped the lace veil back over my head.

The words died in my throat.

He stared down at me. For a split second, I saw a flicker of expectation in his dark eyes. Then, his gaze locked onto my face.

My face. The face that mirrored Sophia's almost perfectly, save for the sharper angle of my cheekbones and the darker shade of my eyes.

The temperature in the cathedral seemed to plummet.

Damian's expression hardened into pure, unadulterated fury.

"You," he whispered, the single syllable slicing through the air like a blade.

"Damian, I—"

He leaned in, his mouth hovering inches from my ear. "Did you really think you could deceive me, Sophia?"

A shiver crawled down my spine. He didn't know about the swap. He thought I was her.

And he looked ready to kill me for it.