The Subtitute Bride

Chapter 1: The Wrong Bride

Kaela was never meant to wear white.

Especially not her sister's wedding dress.

She was supposed to be at home, curled up on her couch with iced coffee and a book, not standing outside a massive church while the rain was starting to fall.

But her phone wouldn't stop ringing.

"Kaela, where are you? Your sister is gone!"

Her mother was crying on the other end. "She left a letter. She ran away with her ex-boyfriend. The guests are already here, the groom is here - if we cancel now, we will be ruined! Your father's business, everything!"

Kaela closed her eyes. "Mom, what do you want me to do?"

"Come here. Now. Wear her dress. Please, Kaela. Just for today."

And that's how she ended up here. In a dress that was slightly too tight, hair half-done, sneakers hidden under the long gown because she didn't have time to find heels.

The church doors opened.

Hundreds of eyes turned to her.

And at the end of the long aisle, stood Rhys.

Everyone in the city knew Rhys Anderson. Twenty-nine, self-made billionaire, owner of half the buildings downtown. Cold, ruthless, and devastatingly handsome. The kind of man women dreamed about and men feared.

He was supposed to marry her sister, Alina. The perfect, beautiful, well-behaved daughter.

Not Kaela. Never Kaela - the sarcastic, stubborn, second daughter who always said the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Rhys's eyes locked on her. For a second, confusion flashed across his face. Then his expression turned to ice.

She walked down the aisle, her heart pounding so loud she was sure everyone could hear it.

When she reached him, he leaned down and whispered, his voice so low only she could hear.

"Where is she?"

"Gone," Kaela whispered back, her hands shaking. "She left with someone else."

Rhys stared at her. His jaw clenched so tight she thought it might break. The priest looked nervous. The guests started to whisper.

Kaela thought he would leave. That he would shout, make a scene, and call off the wedding. A man like Rhys Anderson would never accept a substitute.

But then, to her absolute shock, he took her hand.

His hand was warm. Large. And his grip was firm.

He turned to the priest and said in a clear, cold voice that echoed through the entire church:

"Continue."

The priest blinked. "Excuse me, Mr. Anderson?"

"I said continue," Rhys repeated, not looking away from Kaela. "The bride is here. The wedding will proceed."

Gasps filled the church.

Kaela's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

"Marrying you," he said simply. "Your family signed a contract with mine. A marriage was promised. I don't care which daughter it is. A deal is a deal."

"Are you insane? You don't even know me!"

"I know enough," he said, pulling her closer to the altar. "Your name is Kaela. You're twenty-four. And you are now going to be my wife."

Before she could protest, the ceremony started.

It was a blur. Vows she didn't remember saying. A ring that was too big for her finger - her sister's ring. And then, the words she never thought she would hear directed at her.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Kaela froze.

Rhys looked down at her. For a moment, she thought he would skip it. That he would just walk away.

But he didn't.

He placed one hand gently under her chin, tilted her face up, and pressed a soft, brief kiss to her forehead.

Not on the lips. On the forehead. Possessive. Claiming.

The crowd cheered, but Kaela could only hear her own heartbeat.

She had just married Rhys Anderson.

As his substitute bride.

Later that night - Anderson Estate

The house was not a house. It was a mansion.

Cold, modern, and silent. Like its owner.

Kaela stood in the middle of a bedroom that was bigger than her entire apartment, still in the wedding dress, not knowing what to do.

The door opened and Rhys walked in. He had taken off his suit jacket, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked tired and annoyed.

"We need to set rules," he said without preamble.

Kaela crossed her arms. "Rules?"

"Yes. Listen carefully, Kaela."

He walked towards her until he was standing right in front of her.

"Rule number one: This marriage is for one year. After that, we divorce quietly. You will get enough money to start your life anywhere you want."

"Rule number two: In public, you are my loving wife. You smile, you hold my hand, you act like you adore me."

"Rule number three," he paused, his dark eyes dropping to her lips for just a second. "In private, we stay away from each other. Don't come to my room. Don't expect anything from me."

"And rule number four," his voice dropped lower. "Don't fall in love with me."

Kaela should have been hurt. Or scared. But instead, all she felt was anger.

She was tired of being the second choice. The substitute. The replacement.

She looked up at him, her brown eyes blazing.

"Don't worry, Mr. Anderson," she said, her voice sharp. "You're not that irresistible."

Rhys raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not my sister. I won't follow your rules like a good little wife. And I definitely won't fall in love with a cold, grumpy, bossy man like you."

For a second, silence.

Then Rhys did something she never expected.

He laughed. A low, quiet laugh that made her stomach flip.

"Good," he said, stepping even closer, so close she could smell his cologne. "I like a woman with a sharp tongue."

He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her cheek.

"But let me be clear, Kaela. For this year, you are mine. My wife. My responsibility. And I don't share what is mine."

His touch lingered for a moment too long.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Anderson."

Kaela's breath caught.

This was going to be a very long year.