THE MAN I MARRIED BY MISTAKE

Vivian’s POV “Vivian, what are you doing?” Mrs. Wilson’s angry voice made me freeze. I was standing beside the dining table with the empty tray still in my hands when the wineglass crashed to the floor. The sound was so loud that everyone in the room went silent. I stared at the broken pieces scattered across the marble floor, my heart pounding as I tried to understand what had just happened. I had not touched the glass. I knew that. But the way Mrs. Wilson was looking at me made it clear that she had already decided who was responsible. “I didn’t break it,” I said, but my voice came out softer than I wanted. Mrs. Wilson stepped closer. “Then explain why it broke while you were serving the table.” I looked at Chloe. She was sitting in her chair, dressed in an expensive cream colored dress, watching me with a small smile. Mr. Wilson said nothing, and I looked back at the broken glass. Somehow, whenever something went wrong in this house, I was always the easiest person to blame. “Vivian!” I flinched. “I’m coming.” Vivian’s lips parted. There were four people in the dining room. Mrs. Wilson. Her husband, Mr. Wilson. Their daughter, Chloe. And Vivian. The answer was obvious. “I didn’t break it,” Vivian said quietly. Chloe immediately scoffed. “Of course you didn’t.” Vivian looked at her. Chloe was sitting comfortably in her chair, dressed in an expensive cream colored dress that probably cost more than Vivian’s entire wardrobe. She had always been like that. Perfect clothes, perfect hair, perfect smile. Everything about Chloe seemed designed to remind Vivian of the difference between them. Mrs. Wilson picked up the broken stem of the glass. “You were serving the table.” “I was carrying the tray, but I didn’t touch the glass.” “Are you calling my daughter a liar?” “No.” Vivian lowered her eyes. “I’m just saying what happened.” Mrs. Wilson’s expression hardened. “You’ve lived under this roof for twenty two years, Vivian. The least you could do is learn to take responsibility for your mistakes.” Vivian swallowed. Twenty two years. She had heard that sentence in different forms for as long as she could remember. We took you in. We fed you. We gave you a roof. You should be grateful. You owe us. It had become so familiar that sometimes Vivian wondered whether she had forgotten how it felt to be treated like she belonged somewhere. “I’m sorry,” she said. Chloe smiled. “There. Was that so difficult?” Vivian said nothing. She bent down to collect the broken pieces. “Leave it,” Mrs. Wilson snapped. Vivian stopped. “I’ll clean it.” “I said leave it.” Mrs. Wilson turned toward the dining table. “Chloe, go upstairs and change. Your dinner with the Whitmores is in an hour.” Chloe stood. “Okay, Mom.” She made her way past Vivian without even looking at her. Then she stopped. “Actually…” Vivian looked up. Chloe smiled sweetly. “Can you iron my blue dress?” Vivian stared at her. “You’re going out tonight?” “Yes.” “You didn’t tell me.” Chloe’s smile disappeared. “Do I need to?” Vivian looked down. “No.” “Good.” Chloe walked away. Vivian remained on the floor. She looked at the broken glass. A tiny piece had cut into her finger. A bead of blood appeared. She barely noticed. “Vivian.” She looked up. Mr. Wilson had finally spoken. His voice wasn’t as harsh as his wife’s, but it wasn’t warm either. “Clean this up and make sure Chloe’s dress is ready before she leaves.” Vivian nodded. “Yes, sir.” He stood and followed his wife out of the dining room. Vivian was left alone. Again. She looked around the massive dining room. The table could seat twelve people. The chandelier above her probably cost more than she could earn in several years. The walls were decorated with expensive paintings. Everything in the Wilson house screamed wealth. Everything except Vivian. She sat back on her heels and let out a slow breath. Then she looked at the blood on her finger. “Happy birthday to me.” She almost laughed. Almost. Today was her birthday. Not that anyone cared. She hadn’t expected a party. She hadn’t even expected a gift. But somewhere deep inside, there had been a tiny part of her that hoped someone would remember. Her twenty second birthday. Twenty two years of living in this house. Twenty two years of being reminded that she was lucky to be here. She carefully gathered the broken glass. When she finished cleaning, she washed her hands and went upstairs. The hallway was quiet. She passed Chloe’s room and heard laughter from inside. Two of Chloe’s friends were visiting. Vivian continued walking. Her room was at the very end of the hallway. It was small. There was a narrow bed, a wooden wardrobe and a desk positioned beneath the window. There were no pictures on the walls. No childhood decorations. Nothing that made the room feel like it belonged to her. She closed the door. For the first time that day, she allowed herself to breathe. Vivian walked to her desk and sat down. She opened the drawer. She pulled out the small box. It was old and slightly damaged at the edges. She opened it. Inside was a tiny silver bracelet. It was the only thing she had from before the Wilsons. It was the only thing. Vivian touched it carefully. She had owned it for as long as she could remember. Mrs. Wilson had once told her that she had arrived at their home wearing it when she was a baby. There was no name or date engraved on it. Only a tiny symbol shaped almost like a flower. Vivian had asked about it countless times when she was younger. Mrs. Wilson had always given her the same answer. “It means nothing.” Vivian had eventually stopped asking. But sometimes, late at night, she wondered. Who had given it to her? Where had she come from? Why didn’t she have a single picture of herself as a baby? Why couldn’t anyone tell her anything about her parents? She closed the box. There was no point thinking about it. She had more important problems. She needed a real job. She couldn’t spend another year living like this. Vivian opened her laptop. Her bank account had barely enough money to cover her expenses for the next few weeks. She had applied to several companies, but nothing had worked out. Every time she got close to an opportunity, something happened. Sometimes her adoptive parents interfered. Sometimes they told her she couldn’t leave because she had responsibilities in the house. Sometimes they simply reminded her how much they had sacrificed for her. But Vivian was tired. Tired of asking permission. Tired of being treated like unpaid help. Tired of feeling like a guest in a house she had lived in for twenty two years. She opened a job listing. KINGSLEY HOLDINGS: EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT POSITION Vivian stared at the name. Kingsley Holdings. Everyone knew the company. It was one of the largest corporations in the city. And at the top of it stood one man. Sebastian Kingsley. He was twenty eight years old, a billionaire, and the CEO. He was known as cold, ruthless, and seemingly untouchable. Vivian had heard stories about him. People said he could destroy a company with one decision. That he never mixed business with emotions. That employees were terrified of disappointing him. Vivian almost closed the page. Then she saw the salary. Her eyes widened. It was more than triple what she could make working ordinary jobs. She gazed at the screen. The salary made her pause. This could change everything. She clicked Apply. Her fingers moved quickly across the keyboard. She filled in the usual details: name, education, experience, and contact information. She hesitated when she reached the section asking about references. She didn’t have anyone from the Wilson family she wanted to list. After a moment, she left it blank. Then she clicked Submit. The application disappeared from the screen. Vivian leaned back. She didn’t know it yet, but that single click was about to change her life. Not because Kingsley Holdings would simply give her a job. Not because she would become an executive assistant. But because that job would eventually place her in the path of a man who had absolutely no intention of getting married. A man whose parents had already decided that his unmarried life was a personal insult to the entire Kingsley family. A man who would eventually make Vivian an offer neither of them expected. And somewhere far away, another family was still searching for a daughter who had disappeared twenty two years ago. Vivian knew nothing about them: not their names, not their faces, or why they had spent so long searching. She didn’t know that they had spent years wondering where their little girl had gone. She didn’t know that somewhere in a photograph stored carefully inside the Vale family home, there was a picture of a baby girl wearing a tiny silver bracelet. The same bracelet sitting inside Vivian’s drawer. For now, Vivian knew only one thing: she wanted out. She wanted a life that belonged to her. And Kingsley Holdings might be her first real chance. Downstairs, a car horn sounded. Vivian glanced toward the window. Chloe was leaving. She quickly stood. The blue dress. She had forgotten. Vivian rushed into Chloe’s room. The dress was hanging over the chair. She grabbed it and carried it downstairs. By the time she reached the entrance, Chloe was already standing beside the front door. “Finally,” Chloe said. Vivian handed her the dress. “Here.” Chloe inspected it. “You ironed it?” “Yes.” Chloe looked at her. Briefly, neither spoke. Then Chloe smiled. “Good.” She turned around toward the door. Vivian watched her leave. There was no thank you, no happy birthday, nothing at all. The door closed. Vivian stood alone in the hallway. She glanced at the clock. 11:47 p.m. Her birthday was almost over. She slowly walked upstairs. When she reached her room, she switched off the light and sat beside the window. Outside, the city glittered. People were going home. People were celebrating. People were living lives that belonged to them. Vivian rested her forehead against the glass. She whispered the words she had been too afraid to say aloud. “I don’t want to live like this anymore.” Her phone suddenly vibrated. Vivian looked down. An email. Her heart skipped. KINGSLEY HOLDINGS: APPLICATION UPDATE She opened it immediately. Her eyes moved across the screen. Then widened. Dear Ms. Vivian Wilson, We are pleased to inform you that your application has been selected for an interview. Vivian covered her mouth. An interview. It wasn’t a job yet, but it was a beginning. For the first time in a long time, something felt like it belonged to her. A small smile crossed her face. A real smile. She had no idea that this email was the first step toward a life she could never have imagined. She didn’t know that the billionaire she was about to meet was going to become her biggest headache. She didn’t know that his family would eventually adore her. She didn’t know that the contract marriage he would one day suggest would turn their carefully planned lives upside down. And she certainly didn’t know that the silver bracelet in her drawer held a secret that would eventually change her entire identity. Vivian looked down at her phone again. Interview: 10:00 a.m. A grin tugged at her lips. Tomorrow, she would walk into Kingsley Holdings, and everything would begin. And neither Vivian Wilson nor Sebastian Kingsley had any idea what was waiting for them.