My Aunt Refused the Billionaire, So They Made Me His Bride

After more than thirty hours of delays and travel, Aria felt ready to collapse. At twenty-eight, she had finished her neurology residency in New York and gone to Cambridge for a research fellowship with Professor Smith. She had planned to stay for an additional research year, but her father had insisted she come home for a wedding. Her aunt was marrying the head of the Collins Group—a man whose ruthlessness was legendary in New York. No woman in her right mind would want to marry him.

So why was the Collins-Turner marriage suddenly back on the table after it had been called off ages ago? Confused, Aria walked into the house—only to be greeted warmly by her father and aunt.

“Aria, you must be exhausted,” Fiona said, smiling as she steered her toward the couch.

“Congratulations on the wedding, Fiona.” Aria tried to hide her contempt for her aunt—the same aunt who was always talking her father into shady business deals or hitting him up for money.

“Congratulations to me? You’re the bride, not me,” Fiona replied, plucking a thick folder of wedding paperwork from the coffee table and handing it to Aria.

Inside was an unsigned marriage-license worksheet bearing Aria’s name, a copy of Silas Collins’s ID, and a proposed financial settlement between the families. Someone had supplied her personal information without asking. Aria snatched the folder from Fiona and examined it. None of this made them married. They would both have to apply for a license themselves, and there would have to be a ceremony.

“Dad, what is this?” Aria asked, disappointment flooding her eyes.

Victor, her father, didn’t even flinch. “The Collins financing will save the company. Fiona backed out, so you’ll take her place.”

“That’s not what I asked. If Silas Collins is marrying into this family, why am I the bride instead of Fiona?” Tears welled in Aria’s eyes. The betrayal hit her like a physical blow.

She knew her father was putty in Fiona’s hands, but this was Aria’s marriage they were talking about.

Fiona gave her a dismissive look. “We’re both Turners. I’m only three years older than you. Does it really matter which one of us marries him?”

“The Collins family agreed to marry you, not me. Aren’t you worried about the fallout from a lie like this?”

A sharp slap cracked across Aria’s face.

“How dare you talk back to your aunt like that, you insolent girl? Is this how you treat your own family?” her father snapped, his anger barely contained.

“How can you call yourself family when you’re deceiving your own niece?” Aria shot back, pointing at Fiona. “You wouldn’t marry him yourself, but you expect me to? I’m your daughter!”

Aria stared at her father in disbelief. For the sake of money and connections, he was willing to sacrifice his own daughter.

“Do you even remember that you’re my daughter? Do you know everything Fiona has done for this family lately? What about you and your mother? All you two do is drain resources!” Victor shot back.

Marrying off his sister and marrying off his daughter were two very different things. If Aria married into the Collins family, he’d become the father-in-law of a powerful man—and the Turners’ status would rise with it.

He had worked too hard to forge this connection with Silas, all to climb the social ladder. And now his ungrateful daughter was digging in her heels.

Fiona’s eyes met her brother’s, and she softened her voice. “Aria, don’t blame your father. The Collins assistant has already prepared the appointments and financial papers.”

“An assistant from the Collins family couldn’t make a mistake like that unless someone gave them my documents and told them to use my name instead of yours. Try a better lie,” Aria shot back. Her mind was on her mother, who needed treatment. She had no time for this charade.

“I won’t go through with this wedding. Fiona, cancel the appointments and return my documents. Silas Collins is not someone you want to mess with,” she warned before heading upstairs.

But as she reached the stairs, a chilling voice stopped her cold.

“Aria, don’t you want to see your mother again?” Fiona’s voice cut through the air. Aria spun around, her heart seized with fear. The smug look on Fiona’s face made her blood run cold.

A sickening premonition washed over her. Aria dashed to her mother’s room and found it empty. Her mother was gone.

Six years ago, her mother had been in a car accident and fallen into a coma. Countless doctors had consulted on her case, but nothing had helped. Aria had already been in medical school. After the accident, she had dedicated her training and research to disorders of consciousness, determined to give her mother every possible chance.

Now she was home, and her mother was missing. There was no question who was behind it.

Aria stormed downstairs and grabbed Fiona by the collar. “What did you do with my mother? If anything happens to her, I swear I won’t hold back!”

In that moment, Aria looked like a lioness protecting her cub, her eyes blazing with fury.

“Ah! Victor, help me! She’s lost her mind,” Fiona shrieked, stunned by Aria’s strength.

Victor struggled to pry Aria’s hands off his sister and shoved Aria onto the couch. “You’ve crossed the line!”

Aria lay on the couch, dizzy and disheveled, her hair falling across her face. She looked at the two siblings, and the depth of their betrayal chilled her to the bone.

Fiona smoothed down her clothes and dropped the act. “No one can get a court to make you marry him. But the company is days from default, and your father controls the money paying for your mother’s private care. Walk away, and see how long he keeps paying. You can challenge him, of course. How quickly can you get a lawyer?” The threat was ugly precisely because Aria knew it was coercion. She needed her mother’s location before she could risk an open fight.

With that, Fiona walked to the door and flung it open. “Go ahead,” she dared.

Staring at the open door, Aria felt her heart plummet into an abyss. Tears streamed down her porcelain cheeks as she turned to her father.

“Where is my mother?”

“She’s fine. Marry Silas, and you’ll see her,” Victor replied coldly.

Seeing Aria hesitate, Fiona softened her tone. “I won’t hold it against you for attacking me earlier. Just do as you’re told, and I’ll make sure you see your mother.”

She pulled out her phone and showed Aria a surveillance video. “See? All the equipment is intact. She’s fine.”

The video showed Aria’s mother lying peacefully in a hospital bed. The room looked like a private care unit, though its location was impossible to tell.

“Of course, if you really don’t want to go through with it, there’s nothing I can do. But when the Turner family crumbles, your mother will be the first to suffer.” Fiona’s indifference was plain as day.

The realization hit Aria with full force. This had been Fiona’s plan all along. She’d always known Fiona was unscrupulous and had never warmed to her, but Victor’s betrayal hurt the most.

Her gaze fell on the unsigned application again, blurred by tears. After a long silence, she spoke, her lips trembling.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

Fiona beamed. “See, Victor? I told you Aria was the sensible one.”

“But I have conditions. If a month passes and I still haven’t seen my mother, I’ll expose everything. And don’t blame me when I take the whole Turner family down with me.”

She kept the folder. The unfamiliar care facility, the threats, the papers—she would need a record of all of it. Her agreement bought her time; it did not make what they were doing right.

The next morning, she and Silas appeared at the City Clerk’s office with their own identification. He knew her legal name was Aria Turner. He also knew she was replacing Fiona; Seth had told him the substitution was a business arrangement Aria herself wanted. He barely looked at her as the clerk checked their documents.

More than twenty-four hours later, they returned for the brief civil ceremony with Sam Rogers as their witness. Aria spoke for herself and signed her own name. She kept her mother’s situation from the officials, terrified of what Victor might do before she could find her. The ink dried beside her name. Aria Turner, now married to a man who barely looked at her. She had traded the future she wanted for a chance to reach her mother, and the people who had forced the bargain were calling it a wedding.

They left separately. Silas had a meeting; Fiona insisted Aria return to the Turner house to change before joining him at the estate that evening. On the courthouse steps, Aria pressed her thumb against the unfamiliar ring. She would find her mother. She would get them both out. This marriage would not be her tomb.