Arranged marriage
Ava Sinclair never imagined her wedding day would come without love, laughter, or a ring that wasn't part of a contract.
But here she was—standing on the edge of an ornate marble staircase, swathed in couture white lace, preparing to marry a man who didn't believe in love… and had offered her ten million dollars not to ask for it.
Luca Moretti waited for her at the end of the aisle, sharp in a bespoke black suit and wearing the same cold mask she'd seen during every business negotiation. Except this wasn't a boardroom—it was a ballroom. And she wasn't a CEO here—just the bride in a transaction that would bind her to a billionaire stranger for twelve months.
"Ava," her father whispered behind her, adjusting his tie with trembling hands. "Don't forget what this marriage means to our family. He's our way out."
Her way out—or their way up?
Ava's throat tightened. A once-rising entrepreneur with a failing fashion startup, she hadn't just agreed to this marriage for her parents. She needed the funding, the connections, the safety net. But mostly, she needed to forget the man who shattered her heart two years ago… the one she never told anyone about.
And Luca? He needed a wife for a year to satisfy a clause in his late grandfather's will—one that would secure him control over Moretti Global. His board demanded tradition. So, he bought it.
Their lawyers had called it a win-win.
So why did it feel like a trap?
---
As the ceremony began, Ava moved through the vows in a haze. She barely registered the gasps of the crowd or the curious looks from Luca's guests—most of whom had never heard of her until the invitation arrived.
He slid the ring on her finger with precision, not tenderness.
"You look beautiful," he said under his breath.
"Like something you purchased off a high-end shelf?" she replied smoothly.
His jaw twitched. "Exactly my taste."
---
After the ceremony, they played the roles—shared stiff smiles, cut the cake, and posed for the cameras. The press would call it the wedding of the year. But behind the glamor, there were secrets thick enough to choke on.
Later that night, they returned to the penthouse Luca had prepared for them. The silence between them was sharper than any argument.
"You did well today," he said, pouring himself a drink.
"I'm not your employee," she snapped.
He turned. "Ava, let's be clear. This marriage is about image, not intimacy. We follow the script, fulfill the contract, and walk away richer."
"I don't need reminders, Luca. But just so you know…" She stepped closer, tilting her chin up. "I don't play the obedient wife role very well."
"Good," he said with a flicker of something in his eyes—challenge or amusement, she couldn't tell. "Obedience bores me."
---
Later that night, Ava slipped away into the private study. She needed air, or clarity—or maybe just distance from the man she now shared a name with.
As she leaned against the glass window, her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.
> "Congratulations on marrying the devil. Hope you read the fine print."
—M.
Her blood froze.
M?
Her gaze darted toward the hallway. Luca's voice echoed distantly as he spoke to someone on a business call. Calm, powerful, controlled.
But that message… it clawed at something inside her.
She opened the attached file.
It was a PDF. A contract. But not the one she signed.
This one was dated three weeks earlier—with the same clauses. But the bride's name… wasn't hers.
It was Sienna Rothschild.
Her stomach flipped. She knew that name. A European heiress. Daughter of one of Luca's former business rivals. Engaged last year, then vanished from society pages.
Why would Luca have a contract… with someone else?
Why did she take Sienna's place?
---
She spun around as the door creaked open.
Luca stood there, perfectly composed, sipping whiskey. "You shouldn't be in here."
She clutched the phone to her chest. "Who is Sienna Rothschild?"
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "That's none of your concern."
She stepped forward. "So this whole thing was a backup plan?"
He didn't answer.
Silence hung between them like a storm cloud.
But Ava had already read the twist written in Luca's silence: She wasn't his first choice.
She was the convenient one. The stand-in. The desperate one.
And now she was his wife.
"Who sent me this?" she demanded, holding out the phone.
Luca stared at it. His voice was low. Dangerous.
"Someone who doesn't want this marriage to work."
Her eyes locked on his. "Maybe they already won."
Luca's gaze didn't falter. "Someone who doesn't want this marriage to work."
Ava stepped back, her heart thudding like war drums in her chest. "That's not an answer."
He took a measured step into the study, closing the door softly behind him. The soft click echoed in the silence.
"I don't owe you one," he said calmly. "This is business, Ava. You said to yourself—you're not here for love."
"And you're not here for honesty either," she fired back.
Luca's eyes darkened. "You've been in this marriage for less than a day and already think you're owed my secrets?"
"No," she whispered. "But I expected not to be someone's second choice."
For a moment, the mask slipped—just a flicker. Guilt? Regret? It vanished just as quickly.
"Sienna left," he said, voice low. "Walked away from the deal. You didn't."
"So I was the replacement?"
"You were… the better option." He said it like a fact. Not a compliment. Not a lie. Just brutal, businesslike truth.
The ache in Ava's chest tightened. A better option. Not a person.
"Does she know we got married?" Ava asked, eyes narrowing.
He didn't answer.
And that was an answer in itself.
She turned away from him, clutching the phone. The night outside was black velvet studded with stars, but all she could see was the storm brewing between them. Whoever sent that message wanted her to question everything—and it was working.
"You can lie to the world, Luca," she said quietly, her voice trembling with steel. "But don't lie to me. Because the next time someone sends me a warning… I won't come to you with it. I'll use it."
He watched her in silence. Calculating. Like she was a puzzle he hadn't so
lved yet.
"You're full of fire, Ava," he finally said. "But fire can burn you just as easily."
She met his eyes. "Let's see who gets burned first."