Senera's POV
The silk gown clung to me like a lie.
I stood in front of the mirror in a room that wasn’t mine, wearing a dress that wasn’t mine, about to walk down the aisle in place of a woman I could never be.
Vivian Halstrom—my cousin, the perfect heiress, the golden bride—had vanished hours before her wedding. No note. No call. Just an empty dressing room and a mother losing her mind.
And somehow, I was the one expected to fix it.
“You’ll only have to pretend for a few weeks. Then we’ll manage a quiet annulment,” Aunt Evelyn had said, her voice shaking as she thrust a contract into my hands. “Just get through the wedding. He barely knows her face.”
That part was true. Damien Thorne, the billionaire tech mogul with a heart carved from stone, had met Vivian only once in person. Everything else—courting, negotiation, business alignments—had happened over encrypted phone calls and email chains. Their engagement was a merger more than a romance.
He wouldn’t know the difference.
And in exchange, I would receive enough money to get my little brother the surgery he needed. Enough to save a life.
I swallowed hard, glancing down at the ring box Evelyn had shoved into my trembling hands.
Was this how people lost themselves?
Damien’s POV
The air in the cathedral was laced with anticipation and money.
Every row of pews was filled with the rich, the ruthless, and the curious. Investors smiled through champagne, socialites whispered behind gloved hands, and cameras clicked like the ticking of a bomb.
But I wasn’t listening.
I stood at the altar, fingers clenched behind my back, waiting for a woman I barely knew. Waiting to finalize a deal I didn’t entirely trust.
Vivian Halstrom. Polished. Ambitious. Predictable. Everything I wanted in a strategic wife.
We’d spoken mostly over the phone—negotiated like partners, not lovers. I’d seen her once, maybe twice. Enough to know she was poised, camera-ready, and understood discretion.
But something had felt off lately. Calls missed. Emails vague. Her tone guarded.
Now, she was late.
Beside me, my brother Dean leaned in. “If she’s ditching, now’s the time.”
“She won’t.” My voice was calm. Certain.
But the moment the cathedral doors opened, I knew something wasn’t right.
The woman walking toward me looked like her—same caramel hair, same emerald eyes—but softer. Uncertain. Her shoulders slightly hunched, like she was preparing to flee.
I narrowed my eyes.
Was it the lighting? The nerves? She hadn’t worn much makeup in the photo I'd seen...
Then she looked up at me—and froze.
It was just a second. A hitch in her breath. But it was enough.
Something wasn’t right.
Senera's POV
I was going to faint.
The aisle felt a mile long, every step echoing in my ears louder than the organ music. My knees wobbled beneath the weight of the lie I carried, the bouquet trembling in my grip.
But I couldn't stop.
Not with the cameras flashing. Not with Evelyn Halstrom’s threats etched into my mind. Not with Noah—my little brother—lying in a hospital bed, counting down to a surgery I couldn’t afford.
I had to do this. For him.
Damien Thorne stood at the altar like a marble statue—tall, sharp-jawed, unreadable. He wore power like a second skin, his gaze cool and calculating.
I knew in that moment that if he found out the truth, I’d be ruined.
But he didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch.
As I stepped beside him and offered my hand, he took it, slipping the ring onto my finger with such mechanical grace, it almost didn’t feel real.
The vows passed in a blur. Words repeated, promises made. My voice cracked once, but no one seemed to notice.
When he kissed me, it was brief. Hollow. Strategic.
And just like that, I became Mrs. Damien Thorne.
A substitute bride with a borrowed name and a breaking heart.
Damien’s POV
She said all the right words. Smiled at all the right moments. Kissed me with a softness I didn’t expect.
But something about her was off.
Vivian Halstrom had been confident. Crisp. She wielded charm like a weapon. This woman—my new wife—looked like she’d been dropped into a fire and told to smile through the burns.
Her hand trembled in mine.
I leaned in during the first dance, whispering close to her ear. “You’re shaking.”
“Weddings are overwhelming,” she murmured, not meeting my gaze.
I studied her. “You don’t sound like her either.”
She stiffened for a fraction of a second. Covered it with a smile. “Stress changes a voice.”
My eyes narrowed.
If she thought I was the type to overlook deception, she was playing a dangerous game.
But the cameras were still watching. Investors waiting to see if I’d follow through. The Halstrom family was smiling through gritted teeth. And I wasn’t about to show weakness.
So I held her waist a little tighter and whispered, “Let’s make this believable, Mrs. Thorne.”
Senera's POV
The penthouse was cold.
Not in temperature, but in atmosphere. Sleek marble, chrome finishes, glass everywhere. Everything about Damien’s world screamed distance, control, and quiet judgment.
I stood awkwardly in the master suite, still wearing the gown, unsure if I should change, speak, or disappear.
He entered behind me, loosening his tie. “You’re quieter than I expected.”
I turned slowly. “I’m just... processing everything.”
He poured two glasses of scotch and offered me one. “To our successful merger.”
I took it. Barely sipped.
“I have a few meetings out of town this week,” he continued, already checking his phone. “We’ll discuss terms when I return.”
Terms.
That was what I was to him. A deal. An agreement. A calculated move.
I could survive this. Just a few weeks. Long enough to get Noah into that hospital.
“You’re not what I expected,” he said suddenly.
I flinched. “Neither are you.”
He arched a brow. “Is that a compliment?”
“Would it matter if it was?”
For a moment, his eyes met mine—and I saw it. A flicker of something human beneath the steel.
But it vanished just as quickly.
Back in the dark of the guest bedroom—he had insisted we sleep separately, for now—I finally let myself cry. Not out loud. Not in heaving sobs. But silently, as I stared at the ceiling, the ring on my finger a cold, mocking weight.
I had saved my brother.
But I had sold myself.
And now, I had to become the woman Damien Thorne believed he married.
