Too Late, Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now

Twelve years of love, loyalty, and promises—shattered in one gunshot moment. Aria thought she knew what love meant: sacrifices, patience, blind faith in the man she'd called her fiancé for over a decade. But on Valentine's Day, with a gun pointed in their direction, Liam instinctively shielded his ex, Sophia—while Aria was left bleeding and invisible. "You almost died!" "And he didn't even look at me, Lili. He wrapped his arms around her like I was nothing." Torn between heartbreak and dignity, Aria makes a bold move—marrying Liam's wealthy rival, Aiden Carter, in an impulsive act of revenge. But Aiden is more than a rebound. He's powerful, possessive, and unexpectedly protective—and he plays for keeps. Now caught between a love that failed her, and a man who may demand more than she's ready to give… Aria's heart faces the ultimate reckoning. Will she finally become someone's first choice—or lose herself trying? Chapter 1 Shattered Valentine's Aria's POV I never thought Valentine's Day would be the day my heart would truly break. Liam had reserved a table at La Perle, the crown jewel of Manhattan dining—crystal chandeliers glowing above us, the air humming with soft jazz and the scent of roses at every table. It should have been the perfect Valentine's date, the kind you tell your kids about one day. "You look beautiful tonight, Aria," Liam whispered, reaching across the table to take my hand. I smiled, trying to ignore how distant he'd been lately. Ever since Sophia Clarke came back to New York two months ago, my relationship with Liam had changed. Still, I clung to hope. After all, we were getting married in just five days. "I'm glad we could spend Valentine's Day together," I said softly. Liam nodded, but his eyes seemed distracted. "Of course. I wouldn't miss it." Despite the words, I couldn't help remembering all the dinner dates he'd canceled recently. Always with the same excuse: "Sophia needs me." Just as our appetizers arrived, I noticed Liam's eyes widen. Following his gaze, my heart sank. Sophia Clarke stood there, radiant in a white dress that clung to her slender frame, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Her eyes—those large, seemingly innocent blue eyes—scanned the room until they landed on our table. A slow smile spread across her face. "Well, isn't this adorable?" Sophia's voice rang out as she glided toward us, her white silk dress clinging like it was painted on. "Liam, Aria—what are the odds? Manhattan's massive, yet somehow I keep stumbling into you two." Her smile was sugar-sweet, her eyes anything but. I bit the inside of my cheek. This was the third "coincidence" this month. Liam stood up immediately. "Sophia, what a surprise." The warmth in his voice was unmistakable. "I'm just meeting some friends," she said, her eyes darting to me briefly before focusing back on Liam. "But they seem to be running late." "Why don't you join us while you wait?" Liam said—too quickly, too eagerly. I was momentarily stunned, yet my chest felt like being struck by a blunt object, a dull ache spreading outward. Our romantic Valentine's dinner had just become a party of three. As the evening progressed, Sophia dominated the conversation with stories that seemed designed to remind Liam of their shared past. Each time, Liam would nod enthusiastically, lost in memories that didn't include me. I sat there, invisible, watching as my fiancé and his first love flirted right in front of me. "Sophia," I finally said, my patience wearing thin, "it's Valentine's Day. Liam and I were having a private dinner." "Oh, Aria," Sophia's voice dripped with false sympathy. "Don't be so possessive. Liam and I are just old friends catching up. Isn't that right, Li?" "Aria," Liam's voice was sharp. "Don't be so sensitive. Sophia's just making conversation." I stared at him, stunned by the rebuke. This was supposed to be our night, and yet he was defending her? "I should go," I said quietly, placing my napkin on the table. The pain of his betrayal was too much to bear. Before I could stand, the sound of shattering glass filled the restaurant. A man's voice, loud and frantic, cut through the elegant atmosphere. "SOPHIA! WHERE IS SHE?" I saw a disheveled man in his thirties, wild-eyed and unsteady on his feet. What froze my blood wasn't his appearance, but the gun clutched in his trembling hand. "Ryan," Sophia gasped from our table, her face draining of color. "If I can't have you, no one will!" Ryan shouted, his voice breaking with emotion. That was when everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Ryan's face contorted with rage. He raised his gun, aiming directly at Sophia. Liam didn't even look at me. His chair screeched back as he bolted to Sophia, wrapping her up like she was the most precious thing in the world. His arms locked around her, his voice frantic, whispering promises I was never meant to hear. And me? I was shoved out, left wide open to the barrel of the gun. The gunshot was deafening. I felt a searing pain across my upper arm as I fell to the floor. Warm blood seeped through my dress, but all I could focus on was the sight before me: Liam, wrapped protectively around Sophia, his body covering hers, his arms cradling her head. He hadn't even looked at me. At that moment, I became invisible to him. In his eyes, there was only Sophia. "Miss, are you alright?" A concerned waiter knelt beside me, eyes wide at the sight of blood on my sleeve. Fortunately, I escaped with just a graze wound. When the gunshot rang out, security guards had tackled Ryan, causing his aim to veer off target. The bullet only grazed my arm instead of hitting me directly. The pain in my arm was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. Only when paramedics arrived did Liam finally notice me, his eyes widening when he saw the crimson stain spreading across my sleeve. "Aria!" His face paled when he saw the blood. "Oh God, are you hurt?" "I'm fine," I whispered, though nothing was fine. Nothing would ever be fine again. "I'm so sorry," he stammered, helping me to my feet. "Sophia was closer to me, I just reacted. It happened so fast." I nodded mechanically, accepting his explanation because the alternative was too painful to acknowledge. But the truth pounded in my head with each heartbeat – he didn't choose her because she was closer. He chose her because she was more important. "We need to get you to a hospital," he insisted, finally showing concern as he examined my wound. The emergency room was chaotic. As the doctor cleaned and stitched my arm, Liam paced nervously in the small treatment room. "You scared me," he said, stopping to brush my hair from my face. "When I saw the blood..." For a moment, I allowed myself to believe he truly cared. That maybe what happened at the restaurant was really just proximity and instinct, not a window into his heart. Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and the way his face shifted—guilt, urgency, something I'd never seen directed at me—told me everything before he even said her name. "It's Sophia," he murmured, almost apologetic. Like I should understand. Like it was normal to leave your fiancée bleeding while you ran to your ex. "She says she's having an anxiety attack... I should take this." "Go ahead," I said, my voice hollow. "I'll be right back," he promised, but the door had barely closed behind him before I felt the tears I'd been holding back stream down my face. By the time the doctor finished bandaging my arm, twenty minutes had passed. Liam hadn't returned. "The bullet grazed you pretty deeply," the doctor explained. "You're lucky it didn't hit anything vital. I've prescribed some antibiotics and pain medication. You should have someone stay with you tonight." I nodded silently, wondering who that someone would be, since my fiancé was clearly occupied elsewhere. "Aria!" Lillian burst through the treatment room door, her eyes wild with worry. "I came as soon as I got your text. Oh my God, are you okay?" "I'm fine," I said automatically, though the lie felt heavy on my tongue. Lillian looked around the empty room, her expression darkening. "Where's Liam?" I couldn't meet her eyes. "He had to take a call." "A call? You got shot and he's taking a call?" Her voice rose with each word. "Please tell me it's not who I think it is." My silence was answer enough. "No. I'm not letting this go anymore," she said, crossing her arms. "Twelve years, Aria. Twelve years you've loved him, and this is how he repays you?" "Lili, please." I was too exhausted, too hurt to have this conversation."Can we just go, please? I don't want to stay at my place tonight. Dad would worry too much if he saw me like this." By the time we reached her apartment, I could barely keep it together. As soon as I sat down, the lump in my throat could no longer be contained. Tears streamed down, dampening the sleeve of Lillian's shirt.Lillian sat next to me, holding my uninjured hand tightly, her warmth grounding me. "You can't marry him, Aria," she said gently, brushing a tear off my cheek. "Not after this." I shook my head, trying to breathe through the sobs. "I can't just walk away, Lili… I've loved him for twelve years." "We've known each other since we were kids, Lili. He was there when my mom died. He held me through the worst nights of my life. He's been… everything. I can't just throw it all away because of one mistake." "One mistake?" she echoed, her brows drawing together. "Aria, a man pulled a gun—and Liam ran to protect Sophia. Not you. That wasn't a slip-up, that was instinct. That was his heart reacting before his mouth could make excuses." I stared down at the cold tile floor of the apartment, my throat tight, my chest aching. I didn't want to admit it… but I couldn't deny what I saw either. "He told me it was nothing," I whispered hoarsely. "That they're just friends." Lillian let out a shaky breath, then reached out and squeezed my uninjured hand. "I believe you love him. I do. But love isn't always enough. Especially when it's one-sided. And Aria… I think you're the only one holding on." Her words were like knives, cutting deep into wounds already raw and bleeding. I felt my head pounding with an intense pain. I knew Lillian was right.But how could I walk away now? Our families had planned this wedding for months. Everyone was expecting a fairytale ending to our twelve-year romance. And despite everything, a small, foolish part of me still hoped our story could have a happy ending. That Liam would remember why he asked me to marry him in the first place. That the boy who had once promised to protect me would find his way back to me before it was too late. "I'll give him one last chance," I whispered, wiping away the salt of my tears. My voice shook, but my words didn't. "Five days. If he can't prove I'm the woman he chooses, then I'm done. No more excuses. No more begging for scraps." Lillian didn't argue. She just pulled me into her arms and held me like she had a hundred times before—when we were little girls. Five days. That's all I would give him. After that… I'd have to find a way to give myself back to me. Chapter 2 Betrayal on the Wedding Day Aria's POV The morning after the shooting incident, I woke up to find my phone buzzing with notifications. With a pounding headache, I reached for it and was stunned to see what was happening. The incident had gone viral. Social media was ablaze with comments condemning Liam for prioritizing Sophia over me during the shooting. "Imagine marrying a man who'll dive in front of a bullet—but only if it's for someone else." "What kind of man abandons his future wife in a life-threatening situation?" "That poor Jones girl… she deserves someone who actually remembers who he's engaged to." Reading these comments made my stomach churn. My phone rang, and my father's name flashed across the screen. "Aria," his voice was stern, filled with suppressed anger. "I've seen the news. "The engagement is over, Aria. I'll be damned if I stand by and watch my daughter marry a man who lets her bleed while he cuddles another woman." "Dad, please," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "It wasn't like that. Liam was just... he wasn't thinking clearly. It was a split-second decision in a chaotic situation." Even as I defended him, a small voice in my head whispered: But shouldn't protecting you have been his instinct? "A split-second decision that could have cost you your life, Aria! Do you understand that? If that bullet had hit you instead of grazing your arm—" "But it didn't," I interrupted, not wanting to imagine the alternative. "Dad, I love him. We've been together for twelve years. One mistake doesn't erase all that." There was a long pause before my father sighed deeply. "You've always been too forgiving for your own good, just like your mother. Fine. But if he ever puts you in danger again—" "He won't," I assured him, though uncertainty lingered in my heart. Later that day, Liam arrived with his parents, William and Elizabeth White. While Elizabeth's face was a mask of polite concern, William looked genuinely remorseful. "Aria, dear," Elizabeth approached first, her designer heels clicking against the floor. "We are so sorry about what happened. It must have been terrifying for you." Liam stepped forward, his eyes reflecting genuine regret. "Aria, I can't express how sorry I am. I wasn't thinking clearly. The moment I realized what I'd done, I was horrified. Please forgive me." Looking into his blue eyes, the same eyes I'd fallen for when we were teenagers, I nodded. "I understand, Liam. It was a chaotic situation." To appease both our families and the public, we released a joint statement explaining the incident as an unfortunate misunderstanding during a moment of panic. The media frenzy began to subside, and life seemingly returned to normal. In the days that followed, Liam was attentive and loving. He accompanied me to every wedding preparation, from cake tastings to venue inspections. His dedication made me believe that perhaps the incident was truly just a momentary lapse in judgment. With each passing day, my doubts faded, replaced by excitement for our upcoming wedding. Finally, the day arrived. The Jones-White wedding was the talk of the town, with over a thousand guests filling the grand ballroom that had been transformed into a fairy-tale setting. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow over the white roses and lilies that adorned every corner, and a string quartet played softly in the background. I stood backstage with my father, my heart racing with anticipation. My ivory gown, with its intricate lace and pearl embellishments, had been custom-made, and I felt like a princess in it. "Nervous, sweetheart?" my father asked, placing a comforting hand on my arm. I was about to respond when I heard the master of ceremonies announce, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our handsome groom, Mr. Liam White!" The crowd erupted in applause, but as seconds ticked by, there was no sign of Liam. The applause gradually died down, replaced by murmurs of confusion. The master of ceremonies tried to maintain his composure, making light of the "small delay," but as the minutes passed, even he began to look concerned. Suddenly, a commotion erupted backstage. A sharp slap echoed through the air, followed by Elizabeth White's shrill voice, "Liam White, you come back here this instant!" Before I could process what was happening, Liam rushed past me, his face pale and determined. He'd ripped off his "groom" boutonnière, and his eyes briefly met mine. "Aria, I'm sorry," he blurted, panic etched on his face. "Sophia fell—she's hurt. I can't just leave her like that. We'll… we'll reschedule the wedding, alright? Just a few days." My world shattered in that moment. All the joy, the anticipation, the dreams for our future... gone in an instant. The warning signs had been there all along, from the moment he chose to protect Sophia during the shooting. Deep down, I'd known, but I'd chosen to ignore it. My father's face darkened with rage. "Liam, you can't just—" But Liam was already running towards the exit, leaving me standing in my wedding gown, surrounded by confused guests and a shattered dream. Something inside me snapped. After all we'd been through, after all the preparations, after I'd defended him to everyone... he was still choosing Sophia. I couldn't let him walk away, not without facing me. "Liam!" I called out, gathering my billowing gown in my hands and chasing after him. The high heels I wore bit into my skin, each step a painful reminder of the lengths I was willing to go for someone who wouldn't do the same for me. As I reached the hotel lobby, I saw him outside, about to cross the street to a waiting car. I pushed through the doors, my desperation mounting. "Liam, please!" I cried out, stepping onto the road. The screeching of tires filled the air, and I turned to see a black car swerving to avoid me. In my haste to avoid it, I lost my balance and fell hard onto the pavement, the pristine white of my gown now stained with dirt and blood from my scraped palms. Through the blur of my tears, I saw Liam pause. Just for a second. He turned back, his eyes meeting mine across the distance—conflicted, guilty... But he still got into the car. He had chosen her. Again. And in that moment, something inside me quietly died. Chapter 3 Marry Me Aria's POV I lay in the hospital bed, staring at the sterile white ceiling while the pain medication slowly dulled the throbbing in my body. The physical pain, however, paled in comparison to the hollowness that had taken root in my chest. Mrs. White had been quick to call an ambulance after witnessing my fall. By the time my father arrived, I was crying out in pain, my wedding dress soiled and torn. The sight of me—his only daughter—sprawled on the ground in my ruined wedding gown had nearly destroyed him. "My baby girl," he'd whispered, carefully gathering me into his arms despite the paramedics' protests. His voice had cracked with emotion. "I'm here now. Everything will be alright." But everything wasn't alright. Nothing would ever be alright again. The doctor had assured us my injuries weren't severe—just some scrapes, bruises, and minor sprains that would heal with time. The emotional wound, however, felt fatal. When the White family tried to visit me, my father unleashed twelve years' worth of suppressed frustration. "Your son humiliated my daughter in front of a thousand people and left her bleeding on the ground. And now you dare show your faces here?" His roar shook the walls. "Get the hell out before I drag you out myself." I'd never seen my father so angry. William White tried to speak, but my father wouldn't hear it. He physically pushed them out of the doorway, slamming the door behind them with such force that the walls shook. My best friend, Lillian, sat beside my bed, her hand tightly clasped around mine. Her normally cheerful face was clouded with anger. "That bastard," she muttered, scrolling through her phone. "How could he do this to you? Twelve years, Aria. Twelve damn years!" I couldn't respond. The reality of what had happened was still sinking in. Liam had left me. At our wedding. In front of everyone we knew. Then my phone buzzed with a notification. Lillian reached for it before I could, but her sharp intake of breath told me it wasn't good news. "Lill, what is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. She hesitated. "Nothing important. Just rest." "Lillian Moore," I said firmly, extending my hand. "Show me." With reluctance, she handed me my phone. The screen displayed a news alert: "Breaking: Liam White Seen Entering Sophia Clarke's Apartment Just Hours After Wedding Walkout." Below the headline was a paparazzi shot taken from across the street—The photos hit me like bullets: Liam at Sophia's brownstone, his hand shamelessly pressed to her waist, her head nestled on his shoulder like she belonged there. Another shot—through the window—captured them tangled in each other's arms, laughing. Laughing, while I lay in a hospital bed with my father collapsing from grief. My fingers went numb. The phone slipped from my hand, but the image was already burned into my mind. "He never loved me," I whispered, more to myself than to Lillian. "All these years, I was just... convenient. A placeholder until he could be with her." "Don't say that," Lillian said fiercely. "You're worth ten of her, a hundred of her!" But the evidence was irrefutable. From the shooting to the wedding, every action proved that when it came down to it, Sophia would always be Liam's first choice. I had been living in a fantasy, believing that our history, our shared memories, would be enough. Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating, until it was broken by a sound from the hallway. A voice. Weak. Strained. My father's voice. Then—a thud. "Dad?" I called out, panic rising in my throat. Lillian rushed to the door and flung it open. "Oh my God! Mr. Jones!" I pushed myself out of bed, ignoring the pain that shot through my body. My father lay on the floor, unconscious, his face alarmingly pale. "Someone help!" I screamed, dropping to my knees beside him. "Please, someone help my father!" The next few minutes were a blur of medical staff rushing in, voices overlapping as they called out instructions. My father was quickly placed on a gurney and wheeled away, leaving me standing in the hallway, trembling with fear. "He'll be okay," Lillian reassured me, though her voice lacked conviction. "It's probably just stress from everything that happened today." As we waited for news about my father, the elevator doors opened, revealing two men. One was tall and imposing, with sharp features and a commanding presence that immediately drew attention. The other, slightly shorter but equally well-dressed, followed a step behind. Aiden Carter—the name instantly registered in my mind. The heir to Carter Group and Liam's biggest business rival. I'd never met him personally, but his reputation preceded him. At just thirty-two, he'd taken over as CEO of Carter Group five years ago and had transformed it into one of the leading conglomerates globally. Cold, calculated, and ruthless in business—these were the words most commonly associated with him. What was he doing here? The two men approached, and I realized with a start that Aiden was heading directly toward me. "Miss Jones?" he asked, his voice deep and authoritative. I nodded weakly, too emotionally drained to question how he knew who I was. "I'm Aiden Carter," he confirmed. "And this is my associate, Mr. Grant." "I know who you are," I replied cautiously. "What do you want?" He gestured toward my hospital room. "May we speak privately?" Under normal circumstances, I would have refused. But today had been anything but normal, and my capacity for rational thought was severely compromised by grief, pain, and worry for my father. Once inside the room, Aiden Carter got straight to the point. "I was the one driving the car that almost hit you," he stated matter-of-factly. "I swerved to avoid you, which caused you to fall." I stared at him, processing his words. "You... you were the driver?" He nodded once, his expression unreadable. "I'd like to offer compensation for your injuries. Name your price." His directness was almost refreshing after the day I'd had. No false sympathy, no platitudes—just straightforward business. "It was an accident," I said, shaking my head. "I ran into the road without looking. If anything, I should be apologizing to you for damaging your car." A flicker of surprise crossed his face, so brief I almost missed it. Before he could respond, my phone buzzed. This time, it was a text from an unknown number. [Hi Aria, it's Sophia. I just wanted to say how sorry I am for today. Liam never meant to hurt you, but you know he's been in love with me for years. He only stayed because he felt… obligated. I hope one day you'll understand, and maybe even be happy for us. :) ] The audacity of her message sent a surge of anger through me. Not only had she stolen the man I loved, but now she was reaching out to me for absolution? As if her conscience would be clear if I just gave them my blessing? In that moment, something inside me snapped. I'd spent twelve years living in Liam's shadow, always the understanding girlfriend, always putting his needs first. And where had it gotten me? Alone in a hospital room, my wedding dress torn, my father collapsed from stress, and the media painting me as some desperate, clingy ex. I looked up at Aiden Carter, taking in his powerful presence. The business world feared him; Liam despised him. There was a strange symmetry to it all—how the man Liam hated most had accidentally crossed paths with me on the very day Liam had broken my heart. As I looked at Aiden Carter's stern face, suddenly, a wild idea took shape in my mind - perhaps I could seek revenge on Liam in a different way. "Actually," I said, my voice surprisingly steady, "there is something you could do for me." Aiden raised an eyebrow, waiting. "Marry me." Let's give Liam a betrayal he'll never recover from. Chapter 4 Deal Aiden's POV The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor greeted me as I entered my grandmother's hospital room. The sight of her—this once formidable woman now reduced to a frail figure against starched white sheets—never failed to disturb me. She had raised me single-handedly after my parents' deaths, sacrificing everything to ensure I wanted for nothing. "Aiden," she called out, her voice weak but her eyes lighting up. "You came." "I come every day, Grandmother," I replied, taking a seat beside her bed. Her hand felt paper-thin in mine, the prominent veins mapping decades of strength and struggle. After the pleasantries and updates about Carter Group's latest acquisitions, she fixed me with that penetrating stare I knew all too well. "The doctor says I don't have much time left," she stated matter-of-factly. "You've outlived three doctors who've told you that," I countered, forcing a smile. She wasn't amused. "I want to see you married before I die, Aiden. I want to know you won't be alone." This again. The same conversation we'd been having since her diagnosis. "Grandmother—" "No excuses," she interrupted, her grip suddenly tightening around my fingers. "I've indulged your single status long enough. You're thirty-two, successful, handsome—there's no reason for you to remain unmarried except stubborn pride." I sighed, knowing better than to argue. My grandmother had built the Carter empire alongside my grandfather, navigating a man's world with unparalleled tenacity. If she set her mind on something, resistance was futile. "Promise me," she insisted, her eyes boring into mine. "Promise you'll marry soon. I refuse to die until I see it happen." The ultimatum hung between us. I nodded slowly, placating her with vague assurances while internally calculating the probability of finding a suitable wife in her remaining time—low to nonexistent, considering my standards and schedule. "I promise I'll work on it," I finally said, a diplomatic enough answer to satisfy her temporarily. She seemed content with that, settling back against her pillows. We spent another hour together, discussing business, reminiscing about my childhood, and carefully avoiding the topic of marriage again. As I left her room, Lucas Grant, my secretary and right-hand man for the past seven years, was waiting in the hallway. "How is Mrs. Carter?" he asked, falling into step beside me. "Stubborn as ever," I replied. "Still fixated on seeing me married." Lucas smirked, clearly holding back a laugh. "Well, she's not the only one hoping to see you settle down before retirement." I shot him a warning look. He cleared his throat, his expression quickly shifting to serious. "Anyway… there's something you should know. The woman from the accident—she's here. In this hospital." I stopped walking. Earlier today, while driving to visit my grandmother, a woman had run into the street directly in front of my car. I'd swerved to avoid hitting her, causing her to fall. My driver had reported she seemed physically fine, just shaken, but I'd instructed Lucas to find out her identity and arrange compensation regardless. "Aria Jones," Lucas continued, reading from his tablet. "Daughter of Benjamin Jones." The name registered immediately. Jones Industries wasn't a direct competitor to Carter Group—but our paths had crossed more than once. Especially since their recent collaboration with White Corporation, tensions between our interests had grown… subtly, but unmistakably. Benjamin Jones wasn't an enemy, but he certainly wasn't someone I'd expected to owe a personal debt to. "There's more," Lucas added hesitantly. "She was in a wedding dress when the accident occurred. Apparently, her fiancé left her at the altar today." I raised an eyebrow. "Interesting timing." "Her fiancé was Liam White," Lucas said, watching my reaction carefully. Now that was genuinely surprising. Liam White—the incompetent heir to White Enterprises, who'd been riding on his father's coattails for years. White Enterprises had been a thorn in Carter Group's side since my grandfather's time, with their underhanded business tactics and inferior products flooding markets we'd pioneered. "I think we should visit her," I decided. "Offer our apologies and compensation in person." Lucas nodded, though I could tell he was puzzled by my sudden interest in what would normally be delegated to our legal team. We found her in the hallway outside what I presumed was her room, standing alone—pale, visibly shaken. And still wearing a wedding gown. The sight stopped me cold. The dress, once pristine, was now wrinkled and stained, the edges darkened by dust and pavement. Her veil hung loosely over her shoulders, a ghost of celebration turned into tragedy. But it was her face that held me. She was beautiful—undeniably so. Not in a polished, practiced way, but with a kind of raw, unfiltered radiance. Her features were delicate, almost fragile, like porcelain on the verge of cracking. Her eyes, red-rimmed from crying, held a quiet devastation… but also something else. Grace. Dignity. A restrained strength that made it impossible to look away. Somehow, even in that ruined gown, or perhaps because of it, she looked unforgettable. "Miss Jones?" I approached her directly. She looked up, recognition flashing in her eyes. "I know who you are," she said cautiously after I introduced myself. "What do you want?" Once in her hospital room, I got straight to the point, explaining my involvement in her fall and offering compensation. Her response surprised me. "It was an accident," she said, dismissing my offer. "I ran into the road without looking. If anything, I should be apologizing to you for damaging your car." Her grace in such circumstances was unexpected. Most people would have already called their lawyers, especially someone from her social standing. Before I could respond, something on her phone seemed to upset her. Her expression hardened, determination replacing despair. Then she looked up at me with newfound purpose. "Actually, there is something you could do for me." I waited, expecting perhaps a request for a ride home or assistance dealing with the media. "Marry me." I was certain I'd misheard her. Lucas's choking sound confirmed I hadn't. "Excuse me?" I managed, keeping my tone even. "You heard me," she replied with surprising confidence. "Marry me. A business arrangement, nothing more. I have something you want, and you have something I need." Intrigued despite myself, I asked, "And what exactly do I want that you possess, Miss Jones?" "The riverside property Dad gifted me on my twenty-first birthday," she stated. "I know Carter Group has been trying to acquire it for your new development project." She was correct. That property was the missing piece for our waterfront development—prime real estate we'd been negotiating to purchase for over a year. Benjamin Jones had consistently refused our offers, claiming the land was no longer his to sell. "And what do you need from me?" I asked, genuinely curious now. "Revenge." Her direct gaze was unwavering. "Liam White left me humiliated and broken. The media is having a field day with it. But imagine their reaction when they discover I've moved on—with his biggest business rival, no less." I couldn't help but admire her strategic thinking. It was bold, unexpected, and potentially beneficial to both of us. The riverside property alone was worth millions—the cornerstone of our expansion plans. And seeing White's face when he discovered his ex-fiancée had married me would be... satisfying, to say the least. And then, unbidden, my grandmother's voice echoed in my mind: "Promise me you'll marry soon. I refuse to die until I see it happen." This arrangement could solve two problems simultaneously. My grandmother would get her wish, potentially extending her will to fight her illness. And I would acquire the land we needed without prolonged negotiations or legal battles. "I'll consider it," I said finally. "But I have one condition of my own." She waited, her expression a mixture of hope and apprehension. "This marriage must appear genuine," I stated firmly. "No public acknowledgment of its business nature. We present ourselves as a legitimate couple who fell in love quickly. The marriage lasts a minimum of one year, after which we can quietly divorce if we choose." I needed this to be convincing—for my grandmother, for business optics, and, apparently, for Miss Jones's revenge to be effective. She hesitated only briefly before nodding. "Agreed. But I have additional terms. While this is a business arrangement, I expect respect and fidelity during our marriage. And I want your support in establishing my independence—perhaps a position at Carter Group where I can develop professionally." Her request revealed more about her character than she probably intended. This wasn't just about revenge. "We have a deal, Miss Jones," I said, extending my hand. "I'll have the papers drawn up immediately." As we shook hands, I couldn't help but notice the flash of triumph in her eyes. Liam White had clearly underestimated this woman. I would not make the same mistake. "Call me Aria," she said with the ghost of a smile. "If we're going to be married, we should at least be on a first-name basis." "Aria," I acknowledged with a nod. "Welcome to the Carter family." Chapter 5 An Unexpected Text Aria's POV I stared at the door Aiden Carter had just walked through, my brain still trying to process what had just happened. Did he really agree to marry me? Just like that? The deal I'd proposed seemed almost absurd now that I had a moment to actually think about it. Me, Aria Jones, marrying Aiden Carter - the thirty-two-year-old heir to the Carter empire and my ex-fiancé's biggest business rival. A marriage that would solve both our problems. Mine: escaping the humiliation of being left at the altar. His: getting that piece of land his company had been eyeing for years. My thoughts were interrupted when Lillian burst into the hospital room, her eyes wide with shock. "Was that Aiden Carter who just left your room?" she asked, her voice rising an octave higher than usual. I nodded, still feeling somewhat dazed. "The Aiden Carter? CEO of Carter Group? The one Forbes listed as one of the thirty most influential businessmen under forty? That Aiden Carter?" "Yes, that one," I confirmed, adjusting my position on the hospital bed. "What was he doing here? Wait... is this about the accident?" I filled her in on part of what happened, conveniently leaving out the marriage proposal I'd just made. "He came to discuss the compensation for my injuries from the car accident." Lillian looked skeptical but didn't push further. After helping me gather my things, she drove me home so I could change before heading back to the hospital to look after Dad. Dad had simply fainted from his emotional breakdown, nothing serious, but they wanted to keep him under observation. Once at home, I changed into a comfortable sweater and jeans, trying not to think too much about what I had just initiated. Was I really going to marry Aiden Carter? A man I barely knew beyond his reputation as a ruthless businessman? Back at the hospital,Dad was looking better than he had in one day. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. At least something was going right. The next day, as I sat by his bedside, reading a book while he slept, the door to the hospital room opened. I looked up, expecting to see a nurse or doctor. Instead, Liam White stood in the doorway,holding a bouquet of flowers. My heart clenched painfully at the sight of him. The man who had promised to love me forever. The man who had left me standing alone at the altar. The man who had chosen Sophia Clarke over me when bullets were flying. "Aria..." he began, his voice soft and apologetic. "I heard about your father. I wanted to see how you both were doing." Before I could respond, Lillian jumped to her feet from where she'd been sitting in the corner of the room. "How dare you show your face here! After what you did? You left her at the altar, you self-centered jerk! And now you have the audacity to walk in here like nothing happened?" she hissed. Dad's eyes fluttered open at the commotion. When he saw Liam, his expression hardened. "Get out," Dad said, his voice weak but firm. Liam took a step forward. "Mr. Jones, please, I just want to explain—" "I said get out!" Dad's voice rose, causing the heart rate monitor to beep faster. "You've done enough damage to my daughter." I remained silent, staring at Liam with a coldness I never thought I could feel toward him. This was the man I'd loved for twelve years. The man I'd planned to spend my life with. Now, looking at him, I felt... nothing. Just a hollow emptiness where my heart should be. "Aria, please..." Liam pleaded, looking at me with those eyes that used to make my knees weak. "You heard Dad," I finally spoke, my voice steady. "Leave." Lillian practically shoved him through the doorway. I could hear her furious voice in the hallway, tearing into him with a vengeance. " Go back to your precious Sophia and leave Aria alone before I call security and have you thrown out!" When she returned, her face was flushed with anger. She looked at me with concern. "Are you okay?" I nodded, surprised to find that I actually was. Seeing Liam hadn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Over the next few days, I noticed that I couldn't access any social media on my phone or tablet. Lillian had secretly disconnected them from the internet, trying to shield me from the cruel comments online. But I confronted her about it. "I want to see what they're saying, Lillian," I insisted. Her face crumpled with worry. "Why would you want to torture yourself like that?" I gave her a sad smile. "It took me twelve years to wake up. If I don't pour some salt on the wound, I might forget the pain once it heals." Hearing this, Lillian's eyes welled with tears, but she reluctantly handed over her phone. "People are so cruel," Lillian muttered, watching me scroll through comments on a gossip site. "How can they say these things about you?" I read the comments myself. The public had been merciless, speculating about why Liam had left me. Some suggested I wasn't good enough for him. Others claimed I must have done something terrible to drive him away. A few even celebrated his choice to be with Sophia, painting her as some sort of romantic heroine who had won against all odds. Each comment was like a small knife, but with each cut, I felt my resolve harden. I had been naive, believing in a fairy tale romance that never truly existed. Now it was time to face reality and move forward. The day Dad was discharged from the hospital, we were gathering his things when my phone buzzed with a text message. I checked it discreetly, my heart skipping a beat when I saw it was from Aiden: "I have time tomorrow. Meet me at the civil affairs office at 10 AM. Bring your documents. - A.C." I read the message three times, my heart racing. Despite his agreement in the hospital, part of me hadn't fully believed Aiden Carter would actually go through with our arrangement. "Who's that from, sweetheart?" Dad asked, noticing my expression change. "Just work," I lied smoothly, tucking my phone away. "Nothing important." As we headed home, Lillian immediately dragged me into my bedroom. "Alright, spill the tea!" she said, bouncing onto my bed with an excited gleam in her eyes. "I saw who texted you earlier. It was Aiden Carter, wasn't it? The Aiden Carter!" "Yes," I admitted, trying to sound casual. "But it's nothing important." "Nothing important?" She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "The most eligible bachelor in the city doesn't just text people out of the blue for ‘nothing important.'" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Come on, what's it about?" I let out a sigh. "It's just… compensation stuff. From the accident." "Compensation?" Her eyes widened with interest. "What kind of compensation are we talking about here? Did he run over your dog or something?" I hesitated. How could I explain that I'd asked Aiden Carter, the most powerful businessman in the city, to pretend to be my husband? The absurdity of my request hit me all over again. Lillian misinterpreted my silence. "Look, Aria, don't feel bad about asking for money. Aiden Carter practically bathes in it. Problems that can be solved with cash aren't problems for him at all." She grinned mischievously. "So how much did you ask for? Tell me and make my day!" "I didn't ask for money," I admitted. "I made a different kind of request." Her curiosity piqued even further. "What request?" I took a deep breath, about to confess my impulsive proposal— when the door opened and Martha, one of the housekeepers, stepped in. Chapter 6 She Wanted My Breakdown I turned to her, frowning slightly. "What is it, Martha?" She gave a polite nod. "Miss Jones, Mr. White is here to see you. He's brought Miss Clarke with him." My body tensed immediately. "Tell him I'm not available." Lillian sat up straight, suddenly alert. "Sophia's here too? Oh, this I've got to see." She turned to Martha. "Show them in." "Lillian—" I protested, but she was already smoothing down her dress. "Trust me, Aria. I want to see what those two have to say for themselves." Minutes later, Liam and Sophia entered the living room. Liam looked uncomfortable, while Sophia maintained her usual fragile appearance, clutching Liam's arm as though she might collapse without his support. "Aria," Liam began, his voice strained. "I came to apologize again for what happened. I know I've hurt you—" Lillian cut him off with a humorless laugh. "That's the understatement of the century." Sophia's eyes widened in manufactured innocence. "We truly didn't mean for things to happen this way. I've been feeling terrible about everything." "I understand you're upset on Aria's behalf," Sophia said softly, tears welling in her eyes. "But you don't know how complicated things were. I was in such a dark place with my depression—" "Save the performance for someone who's buying it," Lillian snapped. "Using mental illness as a cover for your manipulations is disgusting." Liam's face hardened. "That's enough. Sophia's condition is real, and you have no right to speak to her that way." "And you had no right to humiliate Aria the way you did," Lillian fired back. "First you shield this woman instead of your fiancée during the shooting, then you abandon Aria on what should have been the happiest day of her life!" "I made mistakes," Liam admitted, "but Sophia was vulnerable—" "And Aria wasn't?" Lillian was practically shouting now. "She was shot, Liam! While you were busy playing hero for your mistress!" Sophia's tears were flowing freely now. "Please stop," she whimpered. "This is exactly why I didn't want to come. I knew everyone would blame me." Liam pulled her closer. "This isn't Sophia's fault. If anyone's to blame, it's me." He looked at me, his expression hardening, "Besides, your attitude toward Sophia is terrible. You don't know that Sophia genuinely suffers from—" "From what, Liam?" I interrupted, finding my voice at last. "From an inability to find a man of her own? From a desperate need to take what belongs to others?" Sophia's eyes filled with tears. "Aria, please. I understand you're hurt, but I'm not faking my illness. That's... that's cruel." "What's cruel is showing up at my house after what you two did!" I shot back. "Aria," Liam said firmly, his arm now around Sophia protectively, "I know I hurt you, but you need to stop attacking Sophia. She's not well, and this stress isn't good for her condition." "Attacking?" I let out a cold laugh. "You think this is attacking?" I shot Liam a glance, then without hesitation turned and slapped Sophia hard across the face. "Get out. Both of you. You pathetic, cheating pair." Liam's expression darkened instantly. "Why did you hit Sophia? She's having an episode! It's not something she can control!Aria, you're really disappointing me." Sophia tugged at his sleeve, playing the perfect victim. "Don't blame Aria, Liam. I deserve this. It's all my fault your wedding didn't happen. It's my fault!" Lillian spat in disgust at the pathetic display before us. "Oh, you've done nothing wrong, have you? You have depression, so the whole world should bow down to you!" I didn't bother watching Sophia's performance any longer. I turned to the security guard. "Get them out of my house." --- Sophia's POV I couldn't stop the tears as Liam led me away from Aria's house. My cheek still stung from her slap, and I made sure Liam noticed my trembling. "Are you okay?" His voice was tender as he helped me into his car. "I can't believe she did that to you." I leaned into his concern, letting a small sob escape. "I just wanted to make things right. I never meant to hurt anyone." Liam's jaw tightened with anger. "You did nothing wrong. Come on, let's go somewhere to cheer you up." He took me to the most exclusive shopping center in town, buying me jewelry and designer clothes to soothe my "fragile nerves." Once I returned home that evening, I decided I wasn't finished with Aria just yet. I called her, knowing exactly how to get under her skin. "Aria?" I feigned surprise when she answered. "I just wanted to remind you that tomorrow is your and Liam's 4th Love Anniversary. Or it would have been." "You're planning to get your marriage license with him tomorrow, aren't you?" I added sweetly. "I'm planning something special." I expected tears, pleas, or anger. Instead, Aria laughed. "Is that supposed to hurt me, Sophia?" Her voice was different—stronger, colder. "Celebrate all you want. You've saved me from a lifetime with a man who couldn't even protect me when it mattered most." Her response caught me off guard. "You're just saying that. I know you still love him." "You know nothing about me," she replied calmly. "Enjoy your life with a man who couldn't even be honest with the woman he was supposed to marry. I wonder when he'll do the same to you." The line went dead before I could respond.It wasn't the reaction I'd hoped for, and frustration bubbled up in my chest. The cheek she'd slapped burned again, as if her words had reignited the sting. "Aaah!" I shrieked, hurling my phone onto the bed before snatching it up again to call Liam. I was going to find out just how long Aria could keep up that façade. Because sooner or later, she'd shatter. Chapter 7 Registered Marriage Aria's POV The morning after my confrontation with Sophia, I felt remarkably liberated. For the first time since the shooting incident, I breathed easier, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Last night's conversation had made me realize how much power I'd given Liam and Sophia over my emotions. I'd spent too long allowing myself to be their victim. No more. With this newfound clarity, I decided to indulge in something I hadn't done in weeks—playing the piano. Music had always been my sanctuary, a world where nothing existed except the keys beneath my fingers and the melodies they created. I was deeply immersed in Chopin's Nocturne when my phone rang. Without checking the caller ID, I answered with irritation. "Sophia, you're certainly persistent, aren't you?" I said sharply. "If you're so amazing, why don't you get Liam to marry you today!" There was a brief silence, then a deep, masculine voice responded. "Miss Jones, it's me." The unexpected sound of Aiden Carter's voice startled me so badly that my hand crashed onto the piano keys, creating a discordant noise that sent birds scattering from the nearby trees. "Mr. Carter?" I stammered, mortified by my mistake. "I'm outside your house, Miss Jones." I hurried to the window and pulled back the curtain.Sure enough, a sleek black Bentley was parked in our circular driveway. Aiden Carter stood beside it, phone to his ear, looking up at my window with those penetrating eyes. "Did you need something, Mr. Carter?" I asked, though the answer was already painfully clear. "Listen, about yesterday, I can explain—" But what exactly could I explain?That my impulsive proposal had been nothing more than a desperate attempt to get back at Liam? As I prepared to speak, I realized how unfair I'd been. Despite my outlandish proposal, Aiden Carter had taken me seriously—more seriously than I'd taken myself. "So Miss Jones was just playing games with me, is that it?" His voice carried a dangerous edge that made my skin prickle. "No, that's not it," I denied quickly. "I'll be right down." I hurried to the elevator, my thoughts racing. Of all the reckless things I'd ever done, proposing marriage to Aiden Carter definitely earned a top spot.But what I couldn't understand was… why did he say yes? In my haste to reach the front door, I stepped awkwardly off the final stair and felt my ankle twist beneath me. I let out a small cry as pain shot up my leg, and I began to fall forward, bracing for impact. In an instant, strong arms wrapped around me, stopping my descent. I found myself pulled against a solid chest, the scent of expensive cologne filling my senses. Looking up, I met Aiden Carter's intense gaze only inches from my face. His features were even more striking up close—the sharp jawline, sculpted cheekbones, and those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through me. A slight furrow formed between his brows as he assessed me, one powerful arm supporting my back while the other swept beneath my knees, lifting me effortlessly. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice low and commanding. I couldn't speak. I'd never been this close to him before, never fully appreciated the raw power that radiated from him. Unlike Liam's polished charm, Aiden Carter possessed something more primal—an authority that made my pulse quicken in a way I'd never experienced before. "Miss Jones?" he repeated, this time more pointedly. I blinked, startled by the second question, and immediately heat rushed to my cheeks as I realized I'd been openly staring at him like a love-struck teenager. "I—no, I'm fine," I stammered, quickly looking away. "You can put me down. I can walk." "Clearly you can't," Aiden replied, not bothering to set me down as he carried me toward the living room. "Is this how you always start your mornings? By injuring yourself?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice that caught me completely off guard. Aiden Carter—making jokes? This was so contrary to everything I'd ever heard about him that I found myself momentarily speechless. The man who terrified boardrooms and crushed business rivals actually had a sense of humor? Aiden carried me to the living room with ease, his strong arms making me feel weightless and, strangely, protected. He set me down gently on the sofa, kneeling before me with an intensity that made my breath catch. "Let me see," he said, his voice commanding yet somehow gentle. When his fingers touched my ankle, I felt an unexpected jolt of electricity race up my leg. His touch was clinical yet intimate—firm, confident hands examining the injury with expert precision. I couldn't help but notice how different this felt from any time Liam had touched me. Aiden's hands were larger, rougher at the edges—hands that had worked and built an empire. As he rotated my ankle carefully, his brows furrowed in concentration, I found myself studying the planes of his face, the way his dark hair fell slightly forward as he bent over my foot. There was something mesmerizing about watching Aiden Carter—a man known for his ruthless business tactics—handle me with such care. "It's just a minor sprain," he concluded, his eyes meeting mine. "But you should stay off it for the rest of the day." "Thank you, Mr. Carter," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "For catching me, and for... checking." I suddenly became aware of several pairs of eyes watching us intently. Our household staff had gathered discreetly at various vantage points around the room, their curious gazes darting between Aiden and me. I could already imagine my father's interrogation when he returned—who was this man in our living room? Why was he touching his daughter's ankle? What exactly was happening between us? Embarrassed, I quickly withdrew my foot from his grasp. "Martha," I called to our housekeeper, who stepped forward immediately. "Could you please bring the first aid kit? I'd like to wrap this ankle." "Of course, Miss Aria," she replied, hurrying away but not before giving Aiden another curious glance. While Martha applied an herbal ointment and expertly wrapped my ankle, Aiden stood by the window, his imposing silhouette framed against the sunlight. He seemed lost in thought, occasionally checking his watch. "Mr. Carter," I began once Martha had finished, "we—"Before I could finish, he bent down and effortlessly lifted me into his arms. I let out a startled yelp, instinctively grabbing his shoulders. "Aiden! Put me down—I can walk just fine!" "You're not supposed to walk on it," he said matter-of-factly, already carrying me toward the door. "I'm serious, put me down!" I wriggled in his arms, heat rising to my face—not just from embarrassment, but from the way he held me like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Doctor's orders," he replied with infuriating calm, carrying me toward the door. "Stay off it for the rest of the day. That includes walking." Before I could argue further, he had me in his car, instructing his driver to head downtown. It wasn't until we pulled up in front of the marriage registry office that I realized what was happening. I wasn't ready. I wasn't sure I ever would be.But I didn't get the chance to protest—Aiden had already stepped out, circled the car, and swept me back into his arms before I could so much as open my mouth. Inside, everything moved with surreal efficiency. Forms were signed, photographs were taken, and witnesses—whom Aiden had apparently arranged to be present—signed their names. Throughout it all, I felt like I was floating outside my body, watching myself go through motions I never thought I'd experience this way. And then, just like that, it was done. I sat in the back of his car, staring at the marriage certificate in disbelief. Had I really just married Aiden Carter—my ex-fiancé's greatest business rival—on what amounted to little more than a vengeful impulse? "Is everything in order, Mrs. Carter?" Aiden's deep voice broke through my thoughts. The unfamiliar title startled me so badly that the certificate slipped from my fingers, floating to the floor of the car. As I leaned forward to retrieve it, our hands met on the document, his covering mine completely. The warmth of his touch sent another unexpected shiver through me. Looking up, I found his face much closer than I'd anticipated. I could see flecks of darker blue in his eyes, the slight shadow of stubble along his jaw. For a moment, neither of us moved away. "The photograph came out well," he observed, his voice lower than before as he helped me straighten the certificate. I glanced down at our official wedding photo. Surprisingly, we looked... compatible. I stood slightly angled toward him, my expression more serene than I felt, while he gazed directly at the camera with characteristic confidence. We appeared like a couple who had chosen each other deliberately, not two people entering a business arrangement disguised as marriage. Back at my house, he carried me to my room despite my insistence that I could manage on my own. As he set me down on my bed, his closeness made my breath catch again. "I'll give you a week to arrange your affairs,then I'll come for you." Something in his phrasing sent a flutter through my stomach. "Come for me?" I echoed. He stepped closer, and I felt the mattress dip as he placed one hand beside me, leaning down until our faces were level. "Yes, Mrs. Carter," he said, his voice dropping to a register that seemed to vibrate through my entire body. "In one week, you'll be moving into my home. As my wife." His proximity was dizzying. I could smell his cologne again—cedar and something darker, more primal—and feel the slight warmth radiating from his body. He wasn't touching me, yet I felt surrounded by him. "There's also someone I want you to meet," he added, his eyes never leaving mine. "Who?" I breathed, finding it difficult to form even that single-syllable question. "You'll see," he replied cryptically before turning to leave. At the doorway, he paused. "Rest that ankle, Mrs. Carter. I expect my wife to be fully recovered when she comes home." With those words, he was gone, leaving me alone with a sprained ankle, a marriage certificate… and the overwhelming, surreal realization that I had just married my ex-fiancé's greatest rival. I stared down at the document in my hands, the bold black letters of my new name printed clearly at the bottom. Was this real? I wasn't dreaming… was I?