Follow
Chapters
Share
The Bride He Never Chose: Married to my Dead Sister's Husband Novel Cover

The Bride He Never Chose: Married to my Dead Sister's Husband

"I never intended to replace her." "Intention is irrelevant," Nikolas replied without sparing me a glance. "Tell me what you expect of me." He finally turned but his gaze was unreadable. "You don't expect. You comply. This marriage exists for appearances alone. You will smile and stand beside me." "And privately?" My voice trembled. "You will not pretend this means more than it does." *** She married her sister's fiancé. He married her out of duty. Trapped in a loveless marriage and surrounded by secrets, Brianna Mallory must survive a world that never wanted her as the bride. But when love begins to bloom and the truth behind her sister's death threatens to surface, one question remains. Was this marriage a punishment or fate's most dangerous gift?
Chapters
Share

Chapter 4

Brianna’s POV

“Where on earth did I keep it?” I said to myself, searching around for my bracelet. It just occurred to me that I hadn't seen it for a while now. In fact, since I moved into Nikolas's home.

My hour-long search turned up nothing, filling me with worry. The bracelet meant so much to me. It was a special gift from Mom before she passed away.

I slumped to the bed, exhausted only to sit up almost immediately. Nikolas's room! It was possible the bracelet had fallen off when he'd forcibly pulled me into his room.

Shit. This was a sticky situation as I'd be flouting his orders if I went to his room. Only God knows how he'd react.

Yet, that didn't deter me. I gathered up courage and left my room, making sure nobody watched as I turned to the hallway that led to his room.

I knocked but no response came. Left with no choice, I entered the room. He wasn't here but I could hear the sound of running shower. I needed to act fast.

And so, I got to work, looking around. The bed, the nightstand, the study table and the carpet but there was no sign of the bracelet.

I glanced at the nightstand again, concluding that I just had to look into the drawers. If it turned out nothing was there, I'd accept my sad fate.

I tiptoed to the nightstand, shakily drew the first drawer and voila, there it was.

As I dipped my hand to pick it up, a door squeaked open.

Shit.

Without thinking, I dove under the bed and held my breath. It went still for a while with just the light sound of footsteps being audible. Nothing else happened for a long time, so I moved towards the front end of the bed to know what was going on.

His calves were the first thing that met my eyes. He stayed still, making me wonder what he could be doing.

Curious, I crawled an inch forward for a better look. That was when he took me unawares by discarding his towel.

My eyes snapped shut, only to open again and pick up the well toned, rock-hard back muscles. My gaze travelled further, cascading down the curve of his spine to reach his buttocks. An image appeared in a flash. I saw myself holding onto his shoulder as he thrusted into me and…

Krrring! My phone blared in the pocket of my shorts.

Jerking, I hung it up. My eyes rounded in fear.

It was so silent that a drop of hair strand could be heard. Then, my worst fears materialised as Nikolas drew near to the bed. Every step he took was met with several more of mine towards the far end of the bed.

If only the floor would swallow me up!

Then, all of a sudden, he stopped. He didn't peek under the bed nor pull me out by my legs.

Instead, he spoke. “Yes.” Silence. “Tell Carl to assemble the stakeholders. I'll be there shortly.”

I heaved a sigh and was at the point of tears, given how close I'd gotten to being caught. His phone rang at the same time as mine. What were the odds of that happening? Almost zero.

Nikolas was out of the room minutes later. I didn't hesitate to leave too, completely out of breath from anxiety.

Later that day, Nikolas's grandfather arrived from Italy. I joined everyone else to welcome him. Mr. Giovanni Conti was the patriarch of the family and the brain behind the billion-dollar automobile company. Conti Motors. He'd established the business before getting married and had been based in Italy. His first and only son, Nikolas's father, had set up an offshoot here in the US.

“There is my daughter-in-law.” Nikolas's grandfather spread out his arms, beckoning for a hug.

Somehow, my gaze fell on Nikolas's mother. Her disapproving eyes didn't stop me from taking the hug.

“It's good to see you again, Grandpa.”

Nikolas's grandfather wasn't usually around. He oversaw the family estate at Tuscany. Amongst everyone in the family, he was the only person I felt comfortable around.

He chuckled heartily. “Please forgive me, mia cara. I couldn't attend the ceremony, no matter how much I wanted.”

My smile faltered having been reminded of the wedding I didn't want. “I understand.” I forced myself to say the next set of words. “I know you've given me your blessings.”

“Certainly. And speaking of which.” He looked past me towards Nikolas's mom. “Nikolas isn't here to welcome me?”

She replied, “He left not too long away for the office.” Just by mentioning Nikolas, my mind flashed back to the sensual sight I'd caught in his room. I brushed off the thought.

Nikolas's grandfather scoffed. “Office indeed. He's got a wife now. He should spend more time with her.” Switching his attention to me, he gestured for me to come with him. “Tell me how the wedding went.”

***

Nikolas's grandfather decided to host a dinner party to celebrate our marriage. That, of course, had come with a tight-lipped smile from Nikolas's mother and…pretty much no response from Nikolas. This was my fate now; the sooner I accepted it while staying determined to make my marriage work, the better for me.

So, as part of making my own contribution to the dinner and partly to impress, I offered to prepare the meal.

After a long time cooking, I went off to freshen up and change into an evening dress. The guests began trooping in shortly after. To my absolute surprise, my father was one of them.

He reached up to me and pulled me in for a hug. Since we were in the midst of people, I had to pretend everything was fine. I forced a smile and wrapped my arms around him.

“Good evening, Father,” I managed to say.

He gave a curt nod before moving past me to greet my in-laws. A hint of sadness pulled at my heartstring. I would be lying if I said I wasn't annoyed with him.

Soon, everyone was seated in the dining room. Nikolas's grandfather tapped his wine glass with a fork, drawing attention.

“Tonight, we're celebrating a new union. Between my grandson, Nikolas and his beautiful bride, Brianna. To long life and a fruitful union. Cheers!”

Everyone tipped their wine glasses. Nikolas listlessly tipped mine. We unfortunately had to sit close to each other.

“And did I mention what a talented chef she is? She was gracious enough to bless us with one of her exotic recipes.”

The maids entered with a food cart, making my heart pump with excitement for the first time since I got married. I couldn't wait for everyone to have a taste.

“Hmm. Looks amazing,” one guest commented as his food was dished out.

Right as I began dishing mine, a guest seated next to Nikolas's mother screamed, “Where's the restroom? I need the restroom!”

Some maids rushed to her side, helping her out of her seat to find the restroom. And just like that, everyone was thrown into confusion.

I couldn't believe what I saw. People spat into their napkins, others were gulping water like their life depended on it.

Blindsided by the playout of things, I stared down at my plate. Putting a spoonful of food into my mouth, I immediately spat it out.

Nausea hit the back of my throat, nudging me to throw up. This tasted nothing like what I had prepared.

Someone had tampered with the food.

You may also like

Betrayal at Engagement Party Novel Cover
8.5
The emergency department at Seattle General was in its usual controlled chaos when my pager buzzed. Another consult request—this one marked urgent. I glanced at the screen as I hurried down the corridor, my white coat flapping behind me. "Female, 27, severe abdominal pain, possible internal bleeding requiring surgical evaluation," I muttered to myself, mentally preparing for what lay ahead. Just another Tuesday in the life of Dr. Yara Graham, general surgeon. I pushed through the double doors to find the ER team already prepping the patient for possible surgery. Dr. Chen, my colleague, handed me the chart. "This one's bad, Yara.
Betrayal at the Altar Novel Cover
8.6
The night before my wedding, I couldn't sleep. The ceiling of our bedroom had never seemed more fascinating, or perhaps I was just avoiding the thought of tomorrow. Eight years with Miller had led to this moment—our wedding day—and yet here I was, mind racing with inexplicable anxiety. I reached for my phone on the nightstand, wincing at the bright screen against my darkened vision. Maybe some mindless scrolling would quiet my thoughts. TikTok loaded, the algorithm immediately serving up its usual mix of dance videos and comedic sketches. I swiped past a few until one caught my eye—or rather, ear. The familiar clink of glasses against each other, followed by a young woman's voice: "Cheers to myself!" The caption read: "When he's working late again and you deserve to celebrate anyway! #cheerstomyself #selflove #weekendvibes" I nearly scrolled past until something in the reflection caught my eye. The video showed a young woman with glossy dark hair holding a wine glass up to the camera.
Betrayal on Yacht Novel Cover
8.8
The fluorescent lights in Dr. Sarah Chen's office hummed with their usual clinical indifference, but something felt different today. I sat in the familiar leather chair, my fingers unconsciously tracing the scar beneath my blouse—a habit I'd developed since the transplant two years ago. Ford's heart. My brother's final gift, beating steadily in my chest, keeping me alive when my own had failed. Dr. Chen's usually warm demeanor seemed strained as she studied the computer screen, her brow furrowed in concentration. The test results from my routine cardiac check-up glowed in stark black and white, but her expression suggested they contained something far more complex than simple numbers. "Eleanor," she began, her voice carrying an uncharacteristic weight that made my stomach clench. "We need to discuss your test results." I straightened in my chair, my hand instinctively moving to my chest.
He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him Novel Cover
7.3
The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.
His Vow Broke, Her Empire Woke Novel Cover
8.0
I was the perfect Mafia wife, my dowry the foundation of my husband's ambition. I paid for his Yale degree, his tailored suits, and the very mansion he called his own. My reward? He paraded his mistress into my bedroom and declared her his second wife, expecting me to silently finance their affair. They thought they had broken a merchant's daughter. They forgot I was raised by wolves. Armed with a blood chit—a life debt owed to my family by the most feared man in Chicago—I walked into the lion's den. I went to Damien 'The Wraith' Falcone, the Dark Don who rules the Outfit with an iron fist, to demand a simple annulment. But the King of Chicago isn't interested in simple transactions. He saw the steel beneath my silk, the vendetta burning in my eyes. He granted me my freedom, but at a price: my allegiance. Now, I'm a pawn in his lethal game of thrones, caught between a treacherous husband I swore to destroy and a ruthless Don who looks at me with a terrifying, possessive hunger. In a city built on loyalty and betrayal, I'm about to teach them all that a queen's wrath is the deadliest weapon of all.
My Husband Tricked Me Into Saving His Mistress Novel Cover
9.8
The mahogany walls of Cyrus’s study always felt like they were closing in, but tonight, on the eve of my twenty-fourth birthday, they felt like the interior of a coffin. Cyrus sat behind his massive oak desk, the shadows clinging to his sharp jawline. He looked weary, a calculated exhaustion that pulled at the terrified strings of my heart. "Renal failure," he said, the words falling like stones into the silence. "The doctors say I don't have much time, Novah. Unless there's a match." I didn't hesitate. I couldn't. For eight years, this man had been my god. He had plucked me from the freezing grime of a New York alleyway and placed me in a penthouse that touched the clouds. I owed him my life.