The Billionaire's Mistaken Bride

"No, I won't!" I shouted. "Apologize!" my stepmother barked, slapping me hard across the face. Pain exploded, but I stood my ground. "Why should I? I did nothing wrong. She did," I said, pointing at Ava, my stepsister. Her eyes darkened with fury. "Since you refuse to accept your mistake, you won't eat anything in this house for the next three days." "But Mom....." "I am not your mother!" she cut me off sharply. "Your mother is dead. She's been dead for a long time." That was it. The tears I had been holding back spilled freely, sliding down my cheeks. What had I done to deserve this kind of life? What crime had I committed to be treated like I didn't belong? I looked up and met Ava's eyes. She was smiling,slow, cruel, and satisfied. This was exactly what she wanted. I said nothing. I knew better than to argue. Her words were final. My father wouldn't defend me,he never did. Instead, he would accuse me of always looking for trouble with his precious younger daughter. So I stayed silent, swallowing my pain, as I always did. ****** Author's Pov She cried as she walked into her small room and locked the door behind her. Sliding down against it, Skyle buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as the sobs finally broke free. This room was the only place she could call hers,small, plain, but safe from their eyes. Moments later, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and saw Clara. Taking a shaky breath, Skyle answered. "Hello?" Clara's voice came through immediately, warm and familiar. "Hey, Sky. I was just checking up on you. How are you doing?" "I'm fine," Skyle replied quickly. There was a brief silence on the other end before Clara spoke again. "No, you're not. I can hear it in your voice." She sighed softly. "I've known you since we were kids. Something is wrong." That was all it took. The dam broke. Skyle told her everything,how she had been in the kitchen that morning, quietly making tea because her stomach ached from hunger. How Ava had walked in, snatched the cup from her hands, and poured the hot tea over herself. They had argued briefly before Ava began crying loudly, tearing her own dress to make it look worse. "She did it on purpose," Skyle whispered. "She wanted trouble." She explained how her stepmother rushed in and, without asking for any explanation, immediately believed Ava. How she had been ordered to apologize for something she hadn't done. How the slap came next. And then the words,cruel and unforgivable,about her mother being dead and her punishment of not eating for three days. By the time she finished, Skyle's voice was barely audible. "Oh, Skyle..." Clara said gently. "I'm so sorry. You don't deserve any of this." Clara stayed on the phone, consoling her, reminding her that she wasn't alone and that things wouldn't always be this way. Then, after a pause, Clara spoke again,this time with a hint of hope in her voice. "Listen," she said. "The fast-food place where I work is looking for another staff. Someone to help attend to customers who come in for drinks and snacks. The pay is actually really good." Skyle listened quietly. "You can work there," Clara continued. "With what they pay, you can take care of yourself. You won't have to depend on them forever. You can become independent." For the first time that day, something stirred inside Skyle's chest,small, but real. "I... can I do that?," Skyle said slowly. "Yes, you can," Clara replied firmly. "Come tomorrow. I'll help you talk to the manager." Skyle wiped her tears and nodded, even though Clara couldn't see her. "Okay. I'll be there tomorrow." When the call ended, Skyle lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to imagine a life beyond that house,a life where she could breathe. ***** Alexander Blackwood The boardroom was already full when I walked in. They stopped talking immediately. I took my seat at the head of the table, loosening my cufflinks as the screen lit up with figures and projections. Numbers never lied. People did. "Next on the agenda," Victor said carefully, "the Hale Group." I glanced at the file in front of me. A failing company. Poor management. Too much sentiment, not enough structure. "They're requesting an alliance," he continued. "Financial backing. Strategic support." "And the condition?" I asked. There was a brief pause. "A marriage arrangement." I lifted my eyes then. Not in surprise,but interest. Marriage alliances weren't unusual at this level. They were efficient. Binding. "Which daughter?" I asked. "Ava Hale. Publicly acknowledged. Educated. Suitable." That was enough. I skimmed the document once, already calculating outcomes. The Hale Group would stabilize within months under my control. The rest was formality. "Proceed," I said, closing the file. The decision was recorded. The tension dissolved. The meeting moved on. As far as I was concerned, the matter was settled.