Marrying the Secret Billionaire

Exchange of vows

Prim’s POV:

Okay, I won’t lie. I f*cking dreamed of walking down the aisle----with Eric waiting for me at the altar. But then, he cheated on me. Not just that, he cheated on me with my sister. A major and grave offense in my book. To make it worse, he got her pregnant. Yey. So, at that particular moment, when I was confronting them, I knew that it wouldn’t happen.

He’s the first relationship I had after Aspen and he adored my son. We even planned on Aspen’s adoption papers if we tie the knot. Which, obviously, is not going to happen anymore. Eric is stuck with D now and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Eric is stupid enough to think that I’d throw away that one thing that could potentially cure my son for him. The audacity to ask me to run away!

I felt Nora’s elbow on my ribcage, “Smile. Why can’t you pretend to be happy that you’re finally giving Aspen a family?”

“You know what? I’d smile better if I saw that three hundred thousand in my bank account.” I retaliated as we walked down the short aisle that was adorned with white daisies. Flanked by both of them. Looking like they gave me a life filled with love. Damn it, I don’t even like daisies but, as usual, my preferences were never important or considered, so I am not shocked.

Archie is at the altar waiting with the preacher. Who the hell marries in a church without his side of the family to witness this life-changing event in his life? I want to feel bad for him. If what they are saying is true and that he’s only getting hitched because his father wants him out of his hair----that’s just sad.

“How ironic, Prim.” I scolded myself in my head. “You are sad for a good-looking man who can get his way through anything just by looking sexy and here you are. You are in as bad shape as this man, figuratively. What are the odds of two miserable people making a life together? Hey, Prim, jokes on you! Ha! It's a tie!"

“Prim?” I heard the Preacher call my name.

“Y-yes?”

“A daydreamer,” Archie said. Wait, was it disgust in his voice I hear?

“Sorry.”

“No worries. I know this must be nerve wrecking for you.” The Preacher smiled at me. “Wedding jitters.”

“Not really.” I mumbled loud enough for Archie to hear.

As early as now, I’d like to send a message that I am a force to reckon with. That I won’t kiss his a** because his family bought me. I am not a sl*ve because slav*ry died two hundred years ago. He blew a sigh. One that I could identify as an annoyed one. Oh, good. He gets the message.

I know Nora and Will’s eyes were pierced on my back. They’re like vultures watching and one wrong word or action from me, enough to make this wedding stop will be their end as well. No one messes with people with money. And no one in desperate need for money wants to be messed with too.

Old money may be different from Nouveau Riche or people who recently acquired their wealth. They are a far cry from each other and I know this. I deal with them in the retail industry all the time. Old money may be polite, but they are dangerous because they know what they are worth, and they’ve been in the game for a long time. Nouveau rich people demand attention and respect.

That's not important, Archie and I are one and the same: Broke. He doesn't fit any bill.

Everything was a blur to me, until I felt my new husband’s hand taking mine to slide a wedding band. God, I hate gold. I doubt if it’s even gold.

I haven’t even got an engagement ring before. I am repulsed. I now understand how it could have felt to be in D’s shoes. Why she had to make her own choice in order to escape this awful moment. Had I known, Eric and I should have married even in a civil wedding.

But it’s too late to cry about spilled milk.

“I, Archibald Wright, take thee, Primrose Smith, to be my wife. I give this ring as a sign of my loyalty and promise to be with you until the end.” He carefully slides the ring onto my finger.

“Sweet,” I could not contain my grimace. “At least he is honest about omitting the word ‘love’. Brownie points for Archie. Way to go for making this wedding as bad as it seems.”

“Primrose, it’s your turn.” The Preacher reminded me gently and his assistant hands me the small velvet pillow with only one ring left. “Go on.”

Thoughts about Eric’s proposal came back to me like an avalanche. What if I run? Not with him, of course, because that would be stup*d. I would never hurt myself again the way Eric did me. Now, that is not a bad idea, if only Aspen wasn’t in the hospital. We could start anew in a tiny place away from here. I have savings. It might be small, but we can do with it.

Right, I should think about my son. My happiness is one of the many things that I can sacrifice over and over again for Aspen. I had to pick up the ring and say my vows.

Hang on, what did he say?

Ah, he omitted the word love. I’d gladly return the favor.

“Prim! What are you doing?” I heard Nora whisper angrily behind me. I am actually enjoying these little rebellions I am doing now. “Don’t make us wait or else!”

I also saw Archie raise an eyebrow at her words. Was that a smirk I saw? Whatever.

Taking the ring, I held his hand in mine and I could feel his calluses. Maybe because he’s not like the other Rothschild kids who work in airconditioned offices. Calluses are signs that a man is not afraid of dirty work, but that doesn’t explain the Patek Philippe on his wrist either.

“I, Primrose Smith, take thee, Archibald Wright, as my husband with a promise to be a devoted wife through thick and thin and for richer and for poorer.”

F*ck it. I should have paid attention to what I was going to say. Well, at least, I did not mention love as well. That should send a message to him as well. He should know right now that I am not going to be easy. That I am going to be a handful, and he had better be prepared for it.

Though the man who was presiding was clearly not satisfied with our vows, he smiled. There was nothing he could do but to wrap it up. “I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

I was expecting Archie to act stiff, but he removed the small veil and leaned in to kiss me. But before that, he whispers, “could you please act like you enjoy this? My father wants photos.”

A**hole, but I smiled as our lips touched and a series of flashes from a photographer I did not know of hurt my eyes with the blinding light.