His name, my throne

Duncan Theodore Rhodes

“WAKE UP!”

Hiller jolted upright in her queen-sized bed, her heart pounding as she immediately looked around the room.

For a moment, she was certain there was an intruder hiding somewhere.

She threw the covers aside, checked behind the curtains, then crouched to look beneath the bed before rushing towards the wardrobe.

“What are you doing?” Amaya asked, watching her with an amused expression.

“I’m looking for the thief. Where did he hide?”

Amaya burst into laughter.

“There’s no thief, girl … It’s just Monday morning!”

“Geez, Amaya! Did you really have to scream like that?” Hiller frowned as she pressed her fingers against her temples.

“My heart rate just went through the roof. You might actually be the death of me!”

“Well, I’m not the one at fault... I came as soon as Milo called me.” Amaya shrugged before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Ugh! Milo!”

Hiller dropped back onto the mattress, already irritated.

“Take a chill pill, girl! Is that why you didn’t tell me about the marriage? What happened to you and Stosh getting engaged last night?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Maya.”

Hiller turned away, but Amaya’s amusement disappeared.

“Am I your best friend at all? You were planning to get married without even telling me?”

“You were going to find out whether I told you or not.”

“That’s not the point, Hiller. You were supposed to call me yesterday. After all these years, do we really have to act like strangers when something this important happens?”

“Amaya, please,” Hiller’s voice softened. “Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is. Are you following me to court, or are you going to leave?”

“I’m following you. You don’t have to act like that.”

Amaya hissed before walking out of the room.

Hiller just sighed.

The truth was . . . she felt guilty, guilty toward her best friend. Amaya had always been against her relationship with Stosh.

She genuinely hated Stosh, hated his guts, and always criticized whatever he did, but Hiller had been convinced that marrying Stosh would be her best salvation.

Instead, he had left her standing at the edge of a cliff with nowhere to turn.

“Get your silly ass into the bathroom!” Amaya shouted from outside.

Hiller couldn’t help laughing.

“Fine!”

She got up and headed into the bathroom.

---

The only unusual thing about that Monday was that instead of sitting in her office trying to secure new investments, Hiller was seated inside a courthouse with her best friend and younger brother.

She was about to become someone’s wife.

The strange part was that the man she was marrying hadn’t even considered it necessary to attend his own wedding.

Instead, he had sent his lawyer with the authority to represent him and sign the necessary documents on his behalf.

“If I find that husband of yours, I’m going to shove my shoe in his face,” Amaya muttered.

Milo laughed.

“Do you even know who you’re talking about? A dude who deposits 300 million dollars as though it’s nothing? Who exactly are you planning to shove your shoe at?”

“You’re all talk,” Amaya shot back.

Although she was annoyed by Milo’s teasing, she couldn’t completely dismiss his words.

“But seriously, why wouldn’t he show up for his own wedding?” Amaya asked, her expression turning sour.

“That’s disrespectful. If word gets out that the young mistress of the Whitlock family had to attend her wedding without her husband, Hiller will be the one left embarrassed.”

“Leave it, Amaya,” Hiller said calmly.

“I’m sure he has something important to handle. That’s probably why he couldn’t come.”

Both of them stared at her.

“Did you just defend him?” Amaya asked.

“Of course. If I want this marriage to work, I should start now.”

“What?”

They both exclaimed at the same time.

Hiller smiled at them.

“I love you guys. Thanks for supporting me.”

“Awn, I love you even more!” Amaya grinned before wrapping an arm around Hiller’s shoulders.

“I love you ten thousand, Sis.” Milo smiled and ran his fingers affectionately through her hair.

“It’s time, Madam. Please come with me.”

Ryan Mercer, the professional who had been waiting nearby, approached them.

“Thank you, Mr. Mercer.”

Hiller stood and followed him into the office.

Everything happened quickly. She signed the documents placed before her, answered the necessary questions, and within minutes, the marriage certificate had been printed and registered.

When she finally stepped back into the hallway, Ryan followed closely behind.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Rhodes. If you have any questions, I’m at your service.”

Mrs. Rhodes.

The words settled strangely inside Hiller.

She had heard the surname before, but hearing it attached to her own name made everything feel suddenly real. It was no longer an arrangement she could keep at a distance, no longer a decision she could pretend belonged only to the adults who had made it. The name seemed to close around her like a door.

“Wait!”

Everyone turned toward Amaya.

She had a peculiar expression on her face, the exact look Hiller knew too well. It was the look Amaya wore whenever she discovered something that didn’t make sense.

“What is it, Maya?” Milo asked, already rolling his eyes.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Mercer, but did you just call her Mrs. Rhodes?”

Ryan’s expression remained professional.

“Yes.”

Milo’s smile disappeared.

His mind raced as he looked from Ryan to his sister.

“Wait…”

Hiller frowned.

“What?”

“You weren’t told?” Ryan asked.

“Told what?”

“You’re married to the Rhodes family.”

“The Rhodes?”

Amaya’s voice rose in disbelief.

“Yes. The old-money Rhodes dynasty . . .” Ryan explained. “One of the most established families in the country, with a global empire built across generations.”

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Hiller felt the air leave her lungs. The surname that had sounded merely unfamiliar a moment ago now carried the weight of generations, money, influence, and expectations she had never agreed to bear. She looked at Milo, hoping he would laugh and tell her this was some misunderstanding, but the concern in his eyes only made the dread spreading through her chest worse.

Milo looked at Hiller, and the concern in his eyes was enough to make her stomach tighten.

“Happy married life, Sis,” he finally said, forcing a smile. “Take care of yourself, all right? If you need me, call me.”

He hugged her tightly and held on longer than usual.

Milo knew enough about powerful families to understand that wealth did not always mean safety. He remembered every time Hiller had protected him and couldn’t help wondering who would protect her now.

Hiller felt his arms tighten around her and understood the fear he was trying not to show. Until that moment, she had thought of the marriage as a reckless escape from Stosh, a chance to rebuild her life. Now she wondered whether she had simply traded one kind of danger for another.

“Guys, let’s go.”

Hiller gently pulled away and led them outside.

Milo helped Ryan load her luggage into the car while Amaya approached the lawyer.

“Please make sure you drive safely,” she whispered.

Ryan nodded.

A raven-black Rolls-Royce waited at the curb. Hiller entered after Ryan opened the door for her, and moments later, the car pulled away.

Amaya watched until it disappeared from sight.

“Do you think Sis will be fine?”

“She will,” Milo replied, though his voice lacked conviction. “She has always survived. She won’t stop now.”

Neither of them truly believed their own words.

---

For nearly ten minutes, Hiller remained silent.

Ryan eventually broke the silence.

“Are you sure you don’t have any questions?”

Hiller turned toward him.

“Actually, I have several. Why didn’t your boss come to the courthouse? Why would he agree to marry a stranger? And between Julian and Jasper, which one is my husband?”

Ryan stared at her.

For the first time since meeting her, genuine surprise crossed his face.

Because the marriage had been arranged by Marianne’s side, he had assumed Hiller knew exactly what she was getting into. He had even wondered whether she had been sent to infiltrate the Rhodes family.

He hadn’t considered that she might know absolutely nothing.

“You think your husband is Julian or Jasper?”

Hiller frowned.

“Who else would he be?”

Ryan almost laughed.

“Forgive me, Mrs. Rhodes, but you aren’t married to either of them.”

He paused.

“Your husband is Duncan Theodore Rhodes.”

Hiller’s expression froze.

The name struck her with a strange force. She had expected a living stranger, perhaps an arrogant heir who had chosen not to attend his own wedding. She had not expected the man in Ryan’s voice to sound like someone already buried beneath years of silence.

“The eldest grandson of the Rhodes family.”

Ryan’s next words landed like a blow.

“The heir to the Rhodes Empire.”

Hiller stared at him.

Duncan Theodore Rhodes.

The name was familiar, too familiar.

“The Duncan Theodore Rhodes?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“The man who was involved in that terrible accident?”

Ryan nodded.

“He has been in a vegetative state for almost two years.”

Hiller’s mind went blank.

For two years?

The man she had just married had been lying unconscious for nearly two years, and she hadn’t even known his name until now. Her fingers went cold as reality settled over her. She had signed herself into a marriage with a man who could not speak to her, reject her, or even know if she existed.

Ryan continued carefully. “Since the accident, I’ve handled most of his business affairs on his behalf. But now that you’re his wife, you’ll eventually have to learn how the empire operates and understand the properties and responsibilities that come with your position.”

Hiller looked at him in disbelief.

“You’re telling me I married a man I have never met, and now you expect me to handle his empire?”

“I expected you to have been prepared.”

“By whom?”

Ryan fell silent for a moment.

Then he answered honestly.

“That’s the problem. Your marriage was arranged through Marianne. Duncan’s position makes him a target within his own family. He stands largely alone, with only his grandfather firmly supporting him.”

“And Marianne?”

“She wants the throne for her sons.”

Hiller’s fingers tightened around the edge of her seat.

“So I’m being placed in the middle of a family war.”

The words sounded absurd, almost theatrical, yet Ryan’s grave expression made it impossible to dismiss them. Her stomach twisted as she imagined the Rhodes family watching her arrive, measuring her, searching for weaknesses. She had entered this marriage believing she was the one making a desperate choice. Now she realized she might have been chosen because she was expendable.

Ryan met her eyes.

“Exactly.”

The car slowed.

“We’re here.”

Hiller looked through the window.

A magnificent lake house stood beyond an elaborate entrance, surrounded by gardens filled with flowers of different species. An artificial waterfall flowed beside the mansion, and the entire property looked less like a home and more like a secluded castle.

But Hiller barely noticed any of it.

The beauty felt cold to her now. Behind the gates and manicured gardens, she could almost sense the secrets Ryan had warned her about: hidden rooms, divided loyalties, and people waiting for Duncan to remain helpless.

“Take me to Duncan.”

Ryan studied her for a moment before leading her inside.

They climbed the grand staircase and walked down a quiet hallway until they reached a glass door.

“Ma’am.”

Hiller nodded and pushed the door open.

Cold air brushed against her skin.

Her eyes moved across the dimly lit room before finally settling on the large bed in the center.

A man lay motionless beneath the covers. Hiller slowly approached and peered down at him.

Jet-black hair, sharp eyebrows, long lashes, a strong nose, full lips, broad shoulders, and a face that seemed almost too composed for someone who had been unconscious for so long.

She stood beside the bed, staring down at the stranger who was now her husband.

He looked nothing like the monster she had imagined during the drive. There was no visible sign of the accident, no warning written across his handsome face, only stillness. That stillness frightened her more than any scar could have. It made him seem unreachable, trapped somewhere beyond her voice, while she stood on the other side of a life she had entered without understanding.

“Duncan,” she whispered.

For the first time, the name felt real.

And somehow, saying it made the weight of her new life settle fully upon her. She was no longer simply Mrs. Rhodes. She was the wife of a comatose heir, a stranger tied to a powerful family that might already be fighting over his future. As she looked down at him, Hiller felt fear rise beneath her ribs, followed by a stubborn, unfamiliar resolve.

Whatever danger surrounded Duncan, it now surrounded her too.