Replacement Luna

Aurora Hayes POV "This marriage will save the family company. Mr. Alexander has promised to fund an eleven billion dollar project once we become one family. So make yourself useful for once—we've kept you fed and sheltered for seventeen years." I stared at Richard Hayes, the man who had the audacity to call himself my father. The same man who'd abandoned my mother without a proper marriage, leaving her to build Slacarya from nothing while raising me alone. He'd only crawled back when she'd made something of herself, married her to legitimize his claim, and now, he wanted to sell me like livestock. My fingers tightened around Mom's picture frame. "Slacarya was Mom's from day one. You never paid for a damn thing except living off us like a parasite. You don't get to decide what I do." Thunder cracked outside, violent enough to rattle the windows. Richard drew himself up with that insufferable pride of his. "I'm still the head of this family." "And I'm still the rightful heir to Slacarya." I wasn't backing down. Not anymore. Vequene—his actual wife, the woman he'd been married to for twenty-seven years behind Mom's back—finally stood up from where she'd been watching our argument like it was dinner theater. "You two fight like this every single day," she said with a tired sigh. "You have no right to speak here!" I pointed at her, fury making my hand shake. She looked at me with something like pity, which was somehow worse than contempt. "Here. Let me show you something." She pulled out a document, walked over to Richard and kissed him—right in front of me—then turned those sharp eyes back my way. "Your sick, weak mother already signed everything over to my husband. He decides who inherits now." She threw the papers at my feet. My hands shook as I picked them up. Transfer of majority shares. Complete ownership. Mom's signature at the bottom, official company stamp beside it. "No. She wouldn't—" But there it was. Legal and binding. "Mom would never hand over everything she built to you. You manipulated her. You tricked her when she was dying!" I tore the contract into pieces, then kept tearing until my hands hurt. Vequene actually laughed. "Tear away, sweetheart. We have the original file backed up in three different places. Want me to print more copies so you can really tire yourself out?" I grabbed the nearest vase and hurled it at her head. Richard caught it and threw it right back at me. It clipped my arm hard enough to bruise. "Show some respect! She's your mother now!" "Her?" I spat on the floor. "Never." This woman had been Richard's secret wife for over two decades. And Mom, in all her naive, faithful love, had never suspected a thing. She could've investigated him. Should have. She had the resources. But she'd trusted him, and that trust had destroyed her. Richard's hand shot out and closed around my throat. I clawed at his grip, gasping for air. "Apologize! Call Vequene your mother. Now." I couldn't speak, so I did the next best thing—drove my heel into his thigh as hard as I could. He released me with a yelp, and I collapsed to the floor, coughing. "This isn't the first time you've put your hands on me!" I screamed. "And I'm done taking it!" "You ungrateful little—" I kicked him between the legs before he could finish. "That's for what you did to Mom!" Then I grabbed a piece of wood from the broken vase and brought it down on the back of his hand with a satisfying crack. "And that's for every time you hit her, you piece of garbage!" Years of watching him hurt her, years of biting my tongue—it all came pouring out. "Mom died because of you!" Vequene was screaming for security, but I got to her first, striking the pressure point at the base of her neck. She crumpled like a puppet with cut strings. "Don't touch my wife!" Richard lurched toward me. I smashed the wood into his mouth. Blood sprayed. "Shut up!" I grabbed his glasses, threw them aside, and drove my fist into his eye socket. Once. Twice. Until blood ran down his face. "This is for every time you closed your eyes when Mom needed you!" For the first time in my life, I felt powerful. I felt like I was finally doing something that mattered. Then security grabbed me from behind. Something pressed against my nose and mouth—chemical-sweet and suffocating—and the world went black. --- I woke up in a wedding dress. The room was dim, decorated in deep reds and grays that made everything feel heavy and dreamlike. My hair had been styled. My face made up. I looked like a stranger in the mirror. "What the hell..." My phone buzzed on the vanity. Vequene's name flashed on the screen. Against my better judgment, I answered. "Hi, sweetie!" Her voice was syrupy with false cheer. "What do you want?" "Just wanted to let you know—today's your wedding day! Your father and I won't be attending because we're at the hospital. Someone beat us up pretty badly, remember?" The camera flipped to show Richard's battered face, one eye heavily bandaged. "But don't worry about us. You just focus on marrying Mr. Alexander Crescent." I am annoyed, "You're selling me." "Selling is such an ugly word. We prefer 'strategic alliance.' Besides, you always said you wanted out of this family. Congratulations—you got your wish. Once you sign those marriage papers, you're not a Hayes anymore." "The company—" "Is ours now. Fair and square. Oh, and one more thing—being a billionaire's wife isn't hard. You just have to marry him, sleep with him, and live with his... quirks. He's got quite the reputation with women. But I'm sure you'll manage." She blew me a kiss and hung up. I hurled my phone at the wall. They'd won. They'd taken everything Mom built and traded me off like I was part of the inventory. I don't know what my husband looks like. He must be old, bald, fat, and ugly. Ugh, just thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach. The door opened. I spun around, ready to fight, and... The man standing in the doorway was... not what I expected. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a face that could've been carved from marble. Sharp nose, strong jaw, and eyes that seemed to glow red in the low light. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit that probably cost more than most people's cars. "You're Aurora Hayes?" His voice was deep, measured. Dangerous. I couldn't stop staring. 'Is he wearing contacts? Why are his eyes red?' "Answer me." "Who's asking?" I finally managed. He stepped closer. The air seemed to thicken around him. "Your future husband." He moved so fast I didn't have time to react. One moment he was by the door, the next his fingers were tilting my chin up, his face inches from mine. "How far along are your preparations, girl?" His breath was warm against my skin. Every instinct I had screamed danger, but I couldn't look away. I shoved him hard in the chest and backed up. "Don't touch me! Who the hell are you?" He smiled. "Protective. I like that." "I asked you a question." He moved forward. I moved back. "You're interesting, Aurora Hayes." "Stop—" "I'm Alexander Crescent." He was right in front of me again. How did he move so quietly? "And you're about to become my wife." Before I could process that, before I could throw another punch or make a run for it, he leaned down and whispered directly into my ear: "Ready or not, we have a wedding to attend."