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

Back at the Turner house that evening, Aria could barely swallow a mouthful of food. She carried her suitcase upstairs and shut her bedroom door. The civil ceremony was over; now Fiona wanted to dress her for the move to the Collins estate, as if presentation could turn coercion into a celebration.

On her nightstand sat a photo of her and her mother, both beaming like the world hadn’t touched them. Aria was in a navy uniform; her mother wore a casual white outfit, their heads leaning lovingly together. Aria wiped away her tears, then tucked the photo into her bag, knowing full well that once she set foot on the Collins estate, coming back might not be so easy.

While she waited for the car to the Collins estate, a member of staff brought her an evening coffee. She drank it—then paused. Something was off about the taste. Still, she brushed it off and soon drifted off to sleep.

She woke sometime later, disoriented, her whole body burning—hot and unbearably itchy all at once. “So hot... so hot,” she mumbled, her hands searching frantically for relief. Then she felt something cool and soothing, and instinctively leaned into it.

A tall man stood over her, staring down at the hand gripping his belt buckle. His expression was ice.

This was the wife Seth had told him was eager for the arrangement? A woman who’d stoop to such cheap tricks to seduce a man? Disgust curled through him. He bent down, scooped her up, and strode outside.

Inside the mansion, everyone froze. “Look—the second Collins son is carrying a woman!” “Could he actually be accepting her?”

But Silas Collins carried her into the garden and dumped her aside without ceremony, as if she were trash.

“If anyone brings her back inside, they’re out of the Collins estate!” he barked, his imposing frame disappearing back into the mansion.

The first week of October had brought a sharp cold snap to New York. Wind slid through Aria’s thin gown, cooling the fever in her skin just enough to clear her head. She forced herself upright in the unfamiliar garden. She remembered the brief ceremony that afternoon, and Fiona insisting on a different dress for her arrival at the estate. Then the coffee. After that, nothing. How had she ended up outside?

Then the burning sensation slammed back into her, and realization hit. Oh, Fiona, you’ve really outdone yourself this time. Was this supposed to be her marriage into the Collins family? Tossed aside like luggage and caught in some deceitful scheme?

Trembling, she climbed out of the flowerbed, shivering so hard her teeth chattered. She hugged herself and knocked on the villa door. No answer. “Hello? Is anyone there? Please!”

The seconds stretched into eternity. Just as she was about to pass out from the cold, a tall figure finally appeared. She looked up, trying to focus on his face, but her vision swam.

Half-conscious, she felt herself wrapped in a warm embrace—so comforting that it pulled her back under.

When she finally woke, sunlight flooded the room. Aria felt weak, her whole body aching. “You had a fever last night,” a deep, soothing voice said beside her. She turned. A man in a black wool coat sat in a chair—thirties, striking features, eyes that radiated warmth.

Silas was only twenty-five, so this man didn’t add up. Aria sat up quickly. “Thank you for taking care of me,” she said, embarrassment coloring her voice.

The man introduced himself as Seth Collins and gently eased her back down, his voice soft with concern. “You had quite a fever last night. Rest a little longer.” He sighed. “Silas can be terribly heartless. If he didn’t want you, he should’ve refused outright. How could he just leave you out in the garden like that?”

Aria’s heart sank. The man who’d tossed her into the flowerbed was really her husband, Silas Collins. Just as the rumors said—cold-hearted and cruel.

She couldn’t believe her father had led her into this mess for the sake of her aunt. Sensing her distress, Seth stepped closer and brushed her forehead with gentle fingers. “In the future, steer clear of him. Silas has a temper.”

Uncomfortable with his touch, Aria pulled back. No matter the circumstances, she was his sister-in-law now, and boundaries mattered. “I... I will.”

Seth’s hand hung in the air, unbothered, though a flicker of pity crossed his eyes. “There was a woman once chosen to be his fiancée. She accidentally touched his things, and he pushed her down the stairs.”

Aria gripped the bedspread, her palms damp with sweat. “And another time, a woman was invited over for dinner. He mistook her for a potential match and poured hot coffee over her head. Left burns all over her face.”

Horrified, Aria sprang from the bed. “Mr. Collins, can... can I go home?”

Seth smiled warmly and gently tousled her hair. “Don’t worry. If you ever need anything, come to me. He still has some respect for me as his older brother.”

Aria lifted her chin, determination hardening her voice. “No. I’m not staying married to him.”

A sudden chill swept through the room. Aria turned—and there he was, a figure in the doorway. His shirt hung casually open at the collar, top buttons undone, exposing sun-kissed skin and a shadow of stubble along a sharp jawline. Mid-twenties, maybe, but there was a rugged charm to his hard features. It was his icy eyes, though, that sent a shiver through her.

There he was—her legal husband, Silas Collins. “Silas, I thought you were at work?” Seth stood, grinning like a brother indulging a wayward sibling.

For a fleeting moment, Aria wondered whether her life would have been different if she had married Seth instead. Then Silas moved toward her, each step echoing through the room, his intense gaze locked on her. “You want a divorce?”

His voice was low, menacing. Aria instinctively backed away, her small frame dwarfed by his presence. “I... I...”

“Speak up!” Silas’s voice turned colder, his eyes sharp enough to cut through her.

Seth shifted slightly, shielding Aria. “Silas, don’t scare her.”

“I didn’t know you cared so much for damsels in distress. If you’re so concerned, stop speaking for her,” Silas shot back.

“Silas, watch your tone. You’re upsetting her,” Seth warned, clearly uneasy with his brother’s tone.

“Am I?” Silas’s half-lidded gaze bore into Aria, sending a chill down her spine. The tension between the brothers was unmistakable.

Something was clearly tense between Silas and Seth. But Silas’s words suggested something improper had happened between Aria and Seth overnight. Why should she be blamed for something she hadn’t caused?

Summoning courage from somewhere deep inside her, Aria stepped forward and met his scrutinizing stare. “If you hadn’t thrown me out, you’d be finding my body today!”

To her surprise, a faint smile flickered across Silas’s lips. His words stayed sharp as ice. “The Collins estate isn’t short of space for your grave.”