THE BILLIONAIRE'S UNWANTED BRIDE

The Marriage I Never Wanted Aria Bennett The first time I heard the words you’re getting married, I laughed. Not because it was funny. Because I genuinely thought my father had lost his mind. I stood frozen in the middle of his study, staring at him as though the man sitting behind the massive mahogany desk had just announced that he planned to sell our house brick by brick. “What did you say?” My father didn't look at me. Instead, he stared down at the papers spread across his desk. “You heard me, Aria.” My fingers curled into fists. “No. I don't think I did.” He finally raised his eyes. There was something in his expression that made the anger in my chest falter. Fear. My father was afraid. That scared me more than his words. “You're going to marry Adrian Blackwood.” For several seconds, the room was completely silent. Then I laughed again. “Adrian?” My father's silence answered me. I shook my head slowly. “Adrian Blackwood?” “Yes.” “The Adrian Blackwood who thinks everyone beneath him is disposable?” “Aria—” “The Adrian Blackwood who hasn't spoken to me properly since we were teenagers?” “Enough.” “No.” I stepped closer to his desk. “You don't get to tell me enough when you're talking about marrying me off to the most arrogant man I've ever met.” My father's jaw tightened. “You think I want this?” “I don't know what you want anymore.” His eyes dropped to the documents. “The company is in trouble.” My anger suddenly disappeared. “What?” “We're in debt.” “How much?” He didn't answer immediately. That was when I knew it was bad. “How much, Dad?” “Enough that we won't survive another quarter.” My heart sank. I had known the company wasn't doing well. I'd heard arguments between my parents. I'd noticed my father working late, taking calls behind closed doors, and selling properties he had once sworn he'd never sell. But I hadn't known it was this bad. Still, marriage wasn't the answer. “You can sell the company.” “We can't.” “Then restructure it.” “We tried.” “Get investors.” “We did.” “Then—” “Adrian's family offered to clear the debt.” I stopped. My father's voice was painfully calm. “In exchange for you.” I stared at him. “They offered to buy me?” “No.” “It sounds exactly like that.” “They want an alliance between the Bennett and Blackwood families.” I laughed bitterly. “And I'm the alliance?” “You're the condition.” The words landed harder than I expected. I looked away. For the first time, I understood why my father couldn't look me in the eyes. “Does Adrian know?” “Yes.” “And he agreed?” My father hesitated. “Yes.” That hurt for reasons I couldn't explain. Adrian Blackwood had always disliked me. And the feeling had been mutual. When we were sixteen, he had told me I was spoiled. When we were seventeen, I had poured an entire glass of juice over his expensive shirt at a family dinner. At twenty-one, we still couldn't stand being in the same room for more than ten minutes. And now I was supposed to marry him. “What happens if I say no?” My father closed his eyes. “Then we lose everything.” I swallowed. “The house?” “Yes.” “The company?” “Yes.” “Everything?” He nodded. My eyes burned. I hated him for putting this decision in my hands. But I hated myself even more because I knew exactly what I was going to do. I was going to say yes. Not because I loved Adrian. Not because I wanted to be his wife. But because my family needed me. “When?” My father's eyes lifted. “The wedding is in three weeks.” I stared at him in disbelief. “Three weeks?” “The Blackwoods want the marriage completed before the end of the month.” I turned toward the window. Outside, the city continued moving as if my entire life hadn't just been rearranged. Cars passed. People laughed. The world continued. But mine had stopped. Then my father's phone rang. He glanced at the screen. His expression changed. “It's Adrian.” I almost laughed. “Of course it is.” He answered the call. “Mr. Blackwood.” I couldn't hear Adrian's voice, but I could see the way my father's shoulders stiffened. After a few seconds, he handed me the phone. “He wants to speak to you.” I stared at it. “No.” “Aria.” “No.” “Please.” I snatched the phone from his hand. “Adrian.” Silence. Then his deep voice came through the speaker. “Three weeks.” No greeting. No congratulations. No apology. Just those two words. My blood boiled. “I heard.” “You'll move into my house after the wedding.” “Absolutely not.” A pause. “You don't have a choice.” I clenched my jaw. “You seem to be forgetting something.” “What?” “I don't like you.” “I know.” “And I don't want to marry you.” “I know that too.” “Then why are you doing this?” His answer came without hesitation. “Because I don't want to marry you either.” My chest tightened. For some reason, hearing him say it hurt. I quickly pushed the feeling away. “Good. Then we're in agreement.” “No.” I frowned. “What?” “We're not in agreement.” His voice became colder. “You'll marry me.” I gripped the phone harder. “And what exactly makes you think I'll obey you?” “Your family.” Silence. He knew exactly where to strike. My father's company. My family. Everything I was trying to protect. I hated him for knowing. “You're a bastard.” “I've been called worse.” “You're enjoying this.” “No.” There was something strange in his voice. Something I couldn't read. “I simply don't have the luxury of refusing.” I frowned. For the first time, Adrian sounded almost human. Then he ruined it. “There will be rules.” I rolled my eyes. “Of course there will.” “After the wedding, you live in my house.” “Fine.” “You don't interfere with my business.” “Fine.” “You don't embarrass me publicly.” I scoffed. “Trust me, Adrian. I'd rather swallow glass than embarrass myself by being associated with you.” Silence. Then I heard a quiet exhale. Almost a laugh. My eyes narrowed. “Did you just laugh?” “No.” “You did.” “You're imagining things.” “I hate you.” “I know.” “Good.” “There's one more rule.” I waited. His voice dropped. “You don't fall in love with me.” My heart skipped. Then I laughed. Loudly. “Don't worry, Adrian.” I stared at my reflection in the window. “That will never happen.” His answer was quiet. “Good.” The call ended. I lowered the phone. My father watched me carefully. “Well?” I handed him the phone. “I'll do it.” His shoulders dropped with relief. And somehow, that relief made everything feel worse. Three weeks later, I stood in front of a mirror wearing a wedding dress. White. Beautiful. Expensive. And completely wrong. The woman staring back at me looked like a bride. But I didn't feel like one. I felt like a prisoner. The door opened. My mother walked in. Her eyes filled with tears. “You look beautiful.” I smiled weakly. “Thank you.” She came behind me and adjusted my veil. “Are you sure?” I looked at her reflection. “No.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.” I turned around. “Don't be.” “But—” “I'm doing this for us.” She hugged me tightly. For a moment, I allowed myself to be weak. Then someone knocked. The door opened. “It's time.” My heart began pounding. I walked down the hallway. Every step felt heavier than the last. And then I saw him. Adrian Blackwood. Standing at the end of the aisle. Black suit. White shirt. No tie. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his expression unreadable. He looked exactly like the arrogant man I remembered. Except now he was older. Broader. More dangerous. And, annoyingly, more attractive. His eyes met mine. Something flickered across his face. Surprise. Then it disappeared. I reached him. He extended his hand. I stared at it. “Don't make a scene,” he murmured. I placed my hand in his. His fingers closed around mine. Warm. Firm. Possessive. I immediately pulled my hand slightly. His grip tightened. “Behave.” I glared at him. “Don't order me around.” His lips curved into the faintest smile. “Then don't give me reasons to.” The ceremony began. I barely heard the words. My mind was somewhere else. Until the priest said the sentence that changed everything. “Do you, Adrian Blackwood, take Aria Bennett to be your lawful wife?” Adrian looked at me. His eyes held mine. “I do.” My heart pounded. Then the priest turned to me. “Do you, Aria Bennett, take Adrian Blackwood to be your lawful husband?” I looked at the man I had spent years hating. The man I was about to spend the next year married to. The man who had just warned me not to fall in love with him. I swallowed. “I do.” The room erupted in applause. But Adrian leaned closer. His lips barely moved. “Congratulations, Mrs. Blackwood.” I looked at him. “I'll make you regret this.” His smile deepened. “I was hoping you would.” And that was the moment I realized something terrifying. This marriage wasn't going to be peaceful. It was going to be war. And neither of us intended to surrender. If you want, I can �⁠make Chapter 2 even more intense, starting immediately after the wedding night with their first major confrontation.