The Billionaire's Substitute Wife

Chapter6

Serena

The first morning as Damian’s wife did not feel like mine at all.

When I woke up, sunlight was already seeping into the large bedroom. The thin curtains danced along with the breeze from the slightly open balcony, carrying in the faint scent of roses from the garden below. For a moment, I could almost pretend I was waking up in peace. But the heavy gold ring on my finger burned against my skin, reminding me of what had happened the night before.

I was no longer free.

I was now Damian Blackwell’s wife.

I sat up slowly, my hair falling over my face, as I tried to calm the racing of my heart.

Everything still felt unreal. The wedding had been rushed, forced, and humiliating. My father had smiled with relief when the vows were said, like he had just handed me over as payment for a debt. Damian had smiled too, but not out of happiness. He had smiled icily, as if he had finally caught the prey he had been searching for.

The bed beside me was empty, though the sheets were still faintly warm. I didn’t hear him in the shower, and that small discovery eased me. I wasn’t ready to face him. Not yet.

A soft knock came on the door before I could even gather my thoughts. A maid entered, carrying a tray of breakfast. She was a young girl, maybe close to my age, with nervous eyes.

“Good morning, Mrs. Blackwell,” she said politely, though her voice trembled slightly.

Mrs. Blackwell. The title didn’t sit well in my chest.

She placed the tray on the table near the balcony. “The master asked that you eat before he returns.”

“Returns?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“Yes, he went for his morning ride,” the maid answered quickly, lowering her head. “He will be back soon.”

The thought sent a wave of anxiety through me. Damian had left me alone, but not for long.

I forced myself to nod. “Thank you.”

The maid bowed slightly before leaving.

I walked slowly to the table and looked at the food; eggs, toast, fruit, and a cup of hot coffee. My stomach churned at the thought of eating. I hadn’t been able to eat much since yesterday. Anxiety burned in my throat, making it hard to breathe, let alone eat.

Still, I picked at the fruit, chewing slowly just to keep my strength. I would need it if I wanted to survive here.

The door clicked open, and my whole body froze.

I didn’t need to turn to know it was him. The air shifted whenever Damian entered a room. His presence was heavy, sharp, and impossible to ignore.

“Good,” his deep voice broke the silence, “you’re awake.”

I turned slowly to face him. He was dressed in dark riding clothes, boots dusty from the stables, his hair slightly damp with sweat. Even like this, he looked too perfect—tall, broad-shouldered, and dangerously attractive. His piercing gray eyes locked onto mine, unreadable yet suffocating.

“You should eat more,” he said casually, glancing at the tray. “You’ll need your strength.”

My fingers tightened around the fork. “I’m not hungry.”

He stepped closer, his boots echoing against the marble floor. “That wasn’t a suggestion, Serena.”

I hated how his voice sank into my skin, making my heart race. He wasn’t shouting, yet the weight of his words was heavier than any yell.

He stopped in front of me, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. For a moment, he just looked at me, as if studying me, testing me. His gaze lingered on my lips, then traveled down to my hand gripping the fork like it was a weapon.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, almost amused.

“I’m not,” I whispered, even though I was.

His lips curved into a faint smirk. He reached out suddenly, prying the fork from my hand with ease, and set it down on the plate. “Eat,” he repeated softly, but this time there was steel in his voice.

I glared at him, but I picked up a piece of toast and bit into it, chewing slowly just to keep the peace. His eyes never left me, and that made it worse. He was watching, obviously waiting for the moment I'd make a mistake.

When I finally set the toast down, he leaned closer, his hand bracing the chair beside me. “Good girl,” he murmured, his breath brushing against my ear.

My face flushed, not from what he said, but from the low, husky tone that seemed to tease and taunt me. He enjoyed doing this — making me uncomfortable and nervous.

I pushed my chair back. I needed space now. “Why are you doing this? Why did you force me into this marriage?”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought I had gone too far. But instead of anger, he let out a low chuckle.

“Why?” he repeated. He circled me slowly, like a predator playing with its prey. “Because I wanted you. And what I want, Serena, I take.”

His words cut deeper than any knife ever could.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “You don’t even know me.”

“Oh, I know enough,” he said, stopping in front of me again. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear.His touch was soft, almost tender, yet his icy eyes gave him away. “I know your personality. I know your weakness. And I know your fears.”

I slapped his hand away before I could think. “I will never be yours,” I snapped, my voice shaking.

His smirk faded. For a moment, silence filled the room. Then, suddenly, he grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“Never is a long time,” he whispered, his eyes burning into mine.

My breath caught as his lips brushed against mine—it was not a kiss, just a warning, a threat of power. I wanted to push him away, to scream, but my body betrayed me. My heart raced, my knees weakened. He felt it. He knew how I felt but that didn't stop him.

Satisfied, he released me and stepped back, his expression unreadable again. “Get dressed. We have dinner tonight.”

“Dinner?” I asked, still dazed.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Our first appearance as husband and wife. Everyone will be watching.” His tone sharpened. “And you will smile, Serena. You will play your role. Or I’ll make you do so.”

The threat hung in the air, heavy and final.

I wanted to argue, to shout that I wasn’t his puppet. But the truth was clear–he held all the power. For now.

He gave me one last look before leaving the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

The moment the door closed, my legs gave out, and I sank into the chair, my heart beating hard against my chest.