Trapped in a Marriage of Revenge
Aria Cole lost everything the day her father was arrested.
To save her family, she accepts a deal she never imagined-marriage to Julian Blackwood, the billionaire who destroyed her life.
Cold, cruel, and driven by revenge, Julian believes Aria's family is responsible for his mother's death.
Their marriage is a contract built on hatred, silence, and punishment.
But as secrets unravel and emotions refuse to stay buried, Aria must decide-
will she survive loving the man who ruined her...
or will he destroy her completely?
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Chapter 6
The first time Aria stepped out of the Blackwood mansion as Julian's wife, the world was already waiting to tear her apart.
The car ride to the charity foundation was silent except for the faint hum of the engine. Julian sat beside her, immaculately dressed in a tailored black suit, his posture rigid, his attention fixed on his phone. Aria sat with her hands folded in her lap, her spine straight, her heart hammering against her ribs.
The stylist Julian had assigned to her earlier that day had done a flawless job. Her hair was swept into a soft low bun, her makeup subtle but elegant, her dress a deep emerald green that clung to her figure without being immodest. She barely recognized the woman staring back at her in the mirror.
And yet, beneath the silk and polish, she felt just as fragile as she had on the day her father was arrested.
"You don't need to speak unless spoken to," Julian said suddenly, not looking at her. "Smile when cameras are present. Keep your answers short."
Aria swallowed. "I know."
"This is not a place for mistakes," he added coolly. "Every move you make reflects on me."
On him. Not on us.
"I won't embarrass you," she said quietly.
Julian finally looked at her then. His eyes were sharp, assessing, as though he were searching for cracks.
"See that you don't."
The car slowed, then stopped. Outside, flashes exploded in rapid succession. Voices overlapped. Her name-Mrs. Blackwood-was already being called.
Julian stepped out first, confident, composed. He extended a hand toward her without emotion.
Aria placed her trembling fingers in his palm.
The moment she stepped out, the noise doubled.
Cameras clicked. Reporters leaned forward. Eyes dragged over her like she was something to be inspected, judged, dissected.
"Julian! Is this your new wife?"
"When did you meet her?"
"Is the marriage a business arrangement?"
"What about the rumors surrounding her father?"
Aria's breath hitched.
Julian's hand tightened slightly around hers-not comforting, but controlling.
"No questions tonight," he said calmly. "We're here for the foundation."
He led her inside before she could hear more.
The hall was grand, filled with glittering chandeliers and people who wore wealth like a second skin. Conversations paused as they entered. Heads turned. Whispers followed.
Aria felt it immediately-the shift.
Curiosity. Judgment. Thinly veiled disdain.
"She's pretty," someone murmured nearby.
"But isn't her family disgraced?" another voice replied.
"I heard she married him to save her father."
Each word cut deeper than the last.
Aria kept her face neutral, her smile practiced, just like Julian had instructed. But inside, she was shrinking.
Julian introduced her to investors, politicians, socialites. Each handshake felt like a test. Each smile felt borrowed.
"And this is my wife, Aria," Julian said smoothly for the tenth time.
Some smiled politely. Others looked at her with naked skepticism.
One woman-elegant, sharp-eyed-tilted her head as she studied Aria. "You must be very... resilient," she said, her tone too sweet to be kind. "Marrying into such pressure."
Aria opened her mouth to respond, but Julian spoke first.
"She's adapting," he said flatly. "Aren't you?"
"Yes," Aria replied softly. "I am."
The woman's lips curved faintly. "Good. You'll need to."
They moved on.
Aria's feet ached. Her chest felt tight. She had never felt so visible-or so invisible at the same time.
At one point, Julian was pulled into a conversation with a group of executives, leaving her standing beside him in silence. She stood there, alone among strangers, her hands clasped tightly, her smile slowly fading.
A man approached her then. Older. Smiling too easily.
"Mrs. Blackwood," he said, his gaze lingering in a way that made her uncomfortable. "Quite the surprise, you are."
She forced a polite nod. "Nice to meet you."
"I must say," he continued, lowering his voice, "you've done remarkably well for yourself."
Her stomach twisted. "Excuse me?"
He chuckled softly. "Marrying a man like Julian Blackwood isn't easy. You must be very... persuasive."
Heat rushed to her face.
"I didn't marry him for gain," she said, her voice trembling despite her effort.
The man raised a brow, clearly unconvinced.
Before she could say more, Julian's voice cut in sharply.
"Is there a problem?"
Julian had returned, his expression cold.
"Not at all," the man said quickly, backing away. "Just admiring your wife."
Julian's hand came to Aria's waist, firm, possessive.
"She's not for admiration," Julian said. "She's mine."
The words sent a strange shiver through her-not comfort, not fear, but something complicated and unsettling.
They left shortly after.
Back in the car, the silence returned, heavier than before.
"You did well," Julian said at last.
Aria stared out the window. "That doesn't feel like praise."
"It's not," he replied. "It's acknowledgment."
She nodded, exhaustion weighing on her bones.
After a moment, she spoke. "They think I married you for money."
Julian's lips pressed into a thin line. "Does it matter?"
"Yes," she said quietly. "Because it isn't true."
He didn't respond.
The mansion gates opened, swallowing them once again.
Later that night, Aria stood alone in her room, carefully removing her jewelry. Her reflection stared back at her-composed, elegant, hollow.
She sank onto the bed, the events of the night replaying in her mind.
The whispers. The looks. The way Julian had claimed her like property.
Her door opened softly.
She looked up.
Julian stood there.
"I wanted to be clear," he said, his voice low. "Tonight was a preview. This is your life now."
She met his gaze, tired but steady. "I know."
"Good," he replied. "Because the world will be much crueler than I am."
As he turned to leave, Aria spoke, her voice quiet but firm.
"You're wrong."
He paused.
"You're not kinder than them," she said. "You just hurt me in private."
For a brief moment, something dark and unreadable crossed Julian's face.
Then he left without a word.
Aria lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her heart aching in ways she didn't have words for.
She had survived her first step into Julian Blackwood's world.
But she was beginning to understand-
survival was only the beginning.
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9.0
The biopsy report slid across the cold metal desk, stamped with a brutal death sentence: advanced gastric cancer. Aretha had exactly ninety days left to live.
It was her twenty-sixth birthday, but her phone only rang with a furious call from her husband, Anders.
"Do you have any idea how much of a joke you made this family look like today? Post a public apology to Kelli right now."
He had completely forgotten her birthday, only caring that she skipped her adopted sister's yacht party.
When Aretha dragged her failing body back to the family estate, her biological mother slapped her across the face just for looking pale and embarrassing them in front of guests.
Seeing Aretha wasn't submitting to the usual abuse, Kelli deliberately threw herself down the stairs, playing the innocent, depressed victim.
Anders rushed in and shoved Aretha brutally against the wall to protect Kelli, while her biological father delivered his ultimate threat.
"I am freezing your trust fund. Get on your knees and apologize to Kelli right now, or you won't see another dime."
A massive, suffocating sense of absurdity washed over Aretha. She had spent six years lowering her head and begging for their approval, only to be treated like a disposable placeholder. Why should she spend her final days enduring this agonizing torture for people who didn't even care if she breathed?
Aretha wiped the blood from her chin and laughed. She publicly severed all ties with her family, whipped the signed divorce papers directly at Anders's face, and walked out into the freezing storm—ready to fight for her own life.
7.1
They ruined her face. Stole her child. Now she's back-and nothing will stop her.
Five years ago, Raina Carrington lost everything: her beauty, her family, and her newborn baby.
Now she's returned-unrecognizable, unbreakable, and with one goal in mind: to find her son and make them pay. But revenge is never simple, especially when it draws the attention of Leif Vexley-the most powerful and dangerous man in the city-who just might hold the key to her child's past.
Yet she's not the victim anymore.
She's the storm-and she's ready to strike.
7.8
Rosalind Rivers has only ever wanted one thing - revenge.
The Lycan Prince, Aklan Draven, murdered her brother in cold blood. Or so she's believed her whole life. Now, forced to serve under him at the Lycan Academy, she has no choice but to obey the man she swore to hate. But hating him becomes harder with every clash, every stolen glance, every heartbeat that refuses to stay loyal to her rage.
Because fate has a cruel sense of humor.
He's her fated mate.
Aklan doesn't understand why this stubborn, sharp-tongued wolf gets under his skin or why her scent feels like home. He only knows she's trouble. The kind that tests his control, drags buried memories to the surface, and makes him question everything he thought he knew about loyalty and guilt.
But when a hidden truth comes to light - that Rosalind's brother didn't die by Aklan's hand but by choice, their world begins to unravel. Old wounds reopen. Ancient forces stir. And Rosalind learns she is no ordinary wolf, but something far rarer, something worth killing for.
Between vengeance and love, duty and destiny, one wrong move could ignite a war between realms.
And the cruelest part?
She might just lose her heart to the man she was born to destroy.
9.5
One night, I was a girl seeking vengeance in a velvet mask. He was the stranger who took me against a cold stone wall, his touch a silent, lethal promise.
Now, he is Caspian Blackwood-the most feared architecture professor at Aethelgard. When my "perfect" boyfriend, Dominic Calloway, cheats on me and sabotages my degree, Caspian offers a lifeline with a razor-thin edge: Be his silent, nude model for thirty days.
The rules are absolute. I must wear a silk mask and a weighted collar. I must never speak. I must hold the poses he demands until my muscles scream for mercy. In the lecture hall, he ignores me with arctic indifference. In the studio, his gaze is a physical weight, stripping me faster than his hands ever could. But as the charcoal scratches against the paper, I realize the "deal" isn't just for art. It's for the soul I accidentally gave him in the dark. Will the deal destroy his career, or consume me first?
8.7
Isabelle couldn't stop drinking as the music pounded through the club. She was trying to drown out the image of her best friend, Aurora, who was pregnant with her fiancé's child, on what should have been Isabelle's engagement night.
But fate had other plans. When an employee calls in sick, Isabelle volunteers to fill in, unaware she is about to walk straight into the arms of Don Miller-the club's most powerful and dangerous client. He was ruthless, commanding, and known for treating women as playthings. Don doesn't believe in love... until Isabelle.
One glance, one reckless touch, and something shifts. She stirs a hunger in him he thought he'd buried forever. And when he learns what broke her, Don makes Isabelle an indecent offer:
He promises to mend her shattered heart and destroy everyone who betrayed her-if she surrenders to him completely.
Two broken souls. One dark deal.
Isabelle is about to learn that submission might just be the sweetest form of revenge. What begins as a dangerous bargain soon spirals into something deeper, darker, and far more intoxicating than either expected.
Maybe love isn't always gentle. Sometimes it's an obsession. Sometimes it's surrender. And sometimes... it's the most exquisite kind of ruin.
7.5
I didn't fall for him.
I crashed.
Liam Cage wasn't supposed to matter. He was just the arrogant stranger with a dangerous smile and eyes that undressed me in a single glance. Just a man passing through my life.
Until our parents got married.
Now he's everywhere, in the kitchen at midnight, leaning against doorframes like he owns the air I breathe. In the hallway, too close. Always too close. Every look between us feels like a secret. Every argument feels like foreplay. Every silence feels loaded.
We don't talk about it.
We don't have to.
Because the truth is there in the way my pulse stutters when he says my name. In the way he watches me like he's trying to decide whether to ruin me - or save me.
He's wrong.
For me.
For my family.
For my sanity.
But when he touches me, the world narrows down to skin and heat and the terrifying realization that some mistakes don't feel like mistakes at all.
They feel inevitable.
This story is about craving what you shouldn't, crossing lines you swore you wouldn't, and discovering that sometimes the most dangerous love is the one that feels the most real.