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

It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head. Aria’s embarrassment vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a hot flash of anger that blazed in her almond-shaped eyes.

“It’s a doctor’s job to save lives,” she shot back.

Regret hit her almost immediately. Why had she even bothered to help him? Whether he lived or died shouldn’t have been any concern of hers!

A lump rose in her throat. She fought back tears, her eyes shimmering with everything she refused to say.

Silas’s gaze lingered on the defiant woman in front of him—tears shining in her eyes, chin still lifted. Something complicated flickered in his deep-set eyes.

Since the incident in the rainforest on a privately owned Caribbean island, every time the poison dragged Silas under, it took a full day and night before it loosened its grip, and each episode lasted longer than the last. This was the first time he had come back to himself within an hour.

When the poison had him in its grip, his staff usually locked down the Collins estate. So why was Aria here alone, in his quarters on the third floor? Had someone planned it—or was it pure chance?

Silas rose and extended a hand toward her. Aria flinched back on instinct, half expecting him to lash out again.

Instead, he lowered his arm and helped her up off the floor. His gaze dropped to the sleeve of her borrowed shirt. “Did I hurt you?”

Aria rubbed the wrist he had caught during the episode. “I’ll be all right.” That was not the same as telling him it had been all right.

Aria burned to defend herself, but she bit her tongue.

Before she could figure out how to leave, Silas walked to the hallway and peered through the keyhole of the iron door. A bell echoed through the Collins mansion.

A moment later, footsteps approached from the other side, and a servant opened the iron gate.

Jericho and the others came in from outside—and stopped dead. Seeing Silas unharmed and coming down from the third floor clearly rattled them.

Seth hurried over, surprise plain in his eyes. “Silas, how did you—?”

Then he noticed Aria and turned to her. “Aria, are you okay? Did Silas hurt you?”

“I’m fine, Seth. He was...” Poisoned.

In one sudden move, Silas hooked an arm around Aria and pulled her against him, until her cheek rested near his chin. His voice was silk over steel. “Am I not enough for you? Already looking for another man?”

He spoke quietly—just loud enough for Seth and the others to hear.

“I would never!” Aria’s protest came out fierce. She had risked her life to save him, and now he was questioning her loyalty?

In that moment, anger and outrage eclipsed the sting of his accusation.

“Then behave. I, Silas Collins, won’t tolerate infidelity.”

“Rest assured, Aria Collins isn’t as shallow as you think!”

She clenched her fists, struggling under the weight of it—the betrayal from her own father and aunt cutting deeper than Silas’s words.

“Enough. Let’s go down for dinner,” Jericho said, breaking the tension.

Thankfully, dinner passed without further drama, and Aria made it back to her room.

That night, a servant knocked with bags full of clothes and shoes—undergarments included—all still tagged from the store.

Could Silas have had a change of heart? Was this his way of thanking her?

She thanked the servant, an unexpected warmth settling in her chest.

She was still changing when another knock came at her door.

“Just a second,” Aria called, yanking up the zipper at her back before opening the door.

Seth leaned against the doorframe.

Silas’s warning echoed in her head. Her heart skipped. “Seth.”

“Why so formal? Just call me Seth,” he said, warmth in his voice. There was something easy about him—like a gentle breeze.

“I’d rather keep it formal, Mr. Collins. Why are you here?” Her relationship with Silas might be a mess, but having Seth at her door felt improper.

Seth slid his hands into his pockets, admiration open in his eyes as he looked her over. “I came to see if the clothes fit. If they don’t, I can exchange them.”

Aria went still. Seth had bought the clothes.

Silas couldn’t possibly be that generous.

Suddenly the outfit felt wrong on her skin. She wanted nothing more than to change.

“Thank you, Mr. Collins. It fits fine. I’ll pay you back,” Aria said.

“Call me that again and I’ll be offended,” he teased. Then something seemed to occur to him. “Do you need anything for your visit home in two days?”

Visit home...

Bitterness spread from her chest all the way to her fingertips. What was there to go back to in that house?

But the thought of her mother sparked a flicker of hope.

“No need, Mr. Collins.”

Seth stepped closer and brushed a strand of hair away from her neck.

Aria instinctively stepped back, watching him warily.

He lifted the clothing tags. “May I?” He offered to cut them off.

“Thank you.”

Was she overthinking this? Seth’s actions felt far too suggestive.

Her heart stayed on guard. Seth’s easy manner confused her.

Before she knew it, the day of her visit arrived. When she got into the car, she noticed the back seat packed with beautifully wrapped gift boxes.

Could they be from Seth?

She couldn’t picture Silas doing something like this...

Her gaze drifted and caught Seth’s warm smile.

Then her wrist was seized without warning.

“The bracelet?”

Aria hesitated. “It’s too valuable. I took it off.”

Silas’s gaze turned to ice. “You dare take off something I gave you? Or do you only treasure his gifts? Don’t think I didn’t notice you flirting.”

She had barely looked at Seth, and already it was flirtation?

“You have five minutes to put that bracelet back on.”

Aria bit her lip and hurried back to her room.

Five minutes later, to the second, Silas saw the emerald bracelet back on her wrist and signaled the driver to go.

For the first time, Aria saw just how grand the Collins estate really was. Beyond the castle-like red-brick mansion where they lived, several two-story buildings sprawled out behind it. Past the Collins garden stretched a wide field of flower beds, violets still vivid even in late autumn.

It took twenty minutes just to reach the Collins gates.

Her visit was supposed to be about seeing her mother. Instead, her father had invited every Turner relative and friend, eager to show off her marriage into the Collins family.

Faced with all those welcoming smiles, Aria pressed her lips together and refused to move.

“Expecting me to carry you?” Silas’s sharp voice cut in beside her ear.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Aria opened the car door and stepped out in a fresh red day dress from her own suitcase. The three-quarter sleeves left the emerald bracelet on her wrist in full view.

Victor spotted the bracelet immediately, his fox-like eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Silas came up beside her, his suit perfectly tailored, his gaze fixed sharply on Victor.

“Welcome, Silas,” Victor began, already reaching to shake his hand.

Aria stepped between them. “Before the photographs, tell your guests who was supposed to be standing here.”

A ripple of confusion went through the Turner relatives. Fiona’s smile froze.

“Aria,” Victor warned.

“Fiona was the proposed bride. I took her place.” Aria met her aunt’s eyes. “You can at least thank me for saving your arrangement.”

Victor and Fiona exchanged a panicked glance. They could tolerate the announced substitution. They could not afford questions about how they had obtained Aria’s agreement.

“Is this how the Turner family welcomes guests?” Silas’s patience was clearly wearing thin.

Aria shot Fiona a contemptuous look. “Without basic manners, I’m not setting foot in the Turner house.”

Every eye was on them. Fiona was trapped.

She gritted her teeth. “Thank you, Aria.”

Aria deliberately looped her arm through Silas’s, her pink lips curving into a cold smile. “There. That wasn’t so difficult.”