Sofia Bennett knew she was unwanted.
She saw it in the way the guests whispered behind crystal glasses.
She felt it in the way the groom never once looked at her during the ceremony.
Lucien Moretti — the youngest billionaire CEO in the country — stood beside her like a statue carved from ice. Perfect. Untouchable. Cold.
When the priest announced them husband and wife, the applause echoed through the grand hall.
Lucien didn't smile.
He didn't kiss her.
He simply leaned down and murmured against her ear, his voice low and lethal.
"Don't mistake this marriage for love."
Her fingers tightened around her bouquet.
This wasn't a love story.
It was a transaction.
Her father's company was drowning in debt. The only condition for Lucien's financial rescue?
Marriage.
To her.
Not because he wanted her.
But because her elder sister — the one he was originally supposed to marry — had run away the night before the engagement ceremony.
And Sofia was the replacement.
The bedroom door shut behind them with a soft click.
The wedding guests were still celebrating downstairs.
Sofia stood frozen in the center of the massive master suite, her white gown heavy, her heart heavier.
Lucien removed his suit jacket slowly, carelessly, like she wasn't even there.
"You should be grateful," he said calmly. "Your family would be bankrupt by tomorrow without me."
"I know," she whispered.
He turned, finally looking at her.
His eyes were sharp. Assessing. Emotionless.
"You will stay out of my personal life."
The words felt like glass slicing into her.
"I won't interfere," she promised.
"There are rules," he continued. "You will behave like Mrs. Moretti in public. In private, you are nothing more than a signature on a contract."
Nothing more.
Her throat tightened, but she refused to cry.
"Understood."
Lucien walked toward her, stopping inches away.
He was tall. Overpowering. The scent of expensive cologne and danger clung to him.
"For clarity," he added coldly, "I will not touch you. I have no interest in sharing a bed with a replacement."
The humiliation burned hotter than fire.
She had prepared herself for indifference.
But this?
This was worse.
He reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a document.
Divorce agreement.
"If you break any rule, you leave this marriage with nothing. No money. No compensation. Nothing."
Sofia stared at the papers in his hand.
"Is that why you married me?" she asked softly. "To punish my sister?"
Lucien's expression darkened.
"I married you," he said quietly, "because I don't forgive betrayal."
And to him, she was guilty by blood.
Midnight.
The house was silent.
Lucien was already asleep on the couch in the sitting area, refusing to share the bed.
Sofia sat alone on the edge of the king-sized mattress.
Her wedding dress pooled around her like a mockery.
A tear slid down her cheek despite her effort to stay strong.
She had imagined many versions of marriage.
None of them felt like a prison.
She wiped her face quickly.
She would endure this.
For her father.
For her family.
Just three years. That was what the contract said.
Three years, and she would be free.
But fate had a different plan.
Two weeks later, during a company gala, everything changed.
Lucien had been drinking.
More than usual.
The press surrounded them. Cameras flashing. Reporters shouting questions.
"Mr. Moretti, how does it feel to finally marry the Bennett heiress?"
Lucien's arm wrapped around Sofia's waist — tight. Possessive.
For the cameras.
For the image.
For the first time, he looked at her like she belonged to him.
And when they returned home that night—
He didn't sleep on the couch.
The memory of that night would haunt her forever.
Because one month later, standing alone in a hospital bathroom, staring at the test result in her trembling hand—
Sofia whispered the words she wasn't ready to face.
"I'm pregnant…"
And she didn't know that when Lucien found out—
He would try to erase the child.