Marrying Into Riches:The Substitute Bride's Billionaire Surprise

Chapter 1 The Wedding Night

"It's getting late. Let's sleep."

The man's deep, magnetic voice snapped Clara Bennett out of her swirling thoughts. She looked up and met his intense, dark eyes—eyes that churned with emotions she couldn't quite decipher.

Clara Bennett nervously clutched the hem of her dress, her heartbeat quickening.

Ever since she'd entered this room, she'd been perched on the edge of the bed, frozen in that position for so long her back had stiffened.

She hadn't even changed out of her wedding gown.

It wasn't until the man emerged from the bathroom, fresh from a shower, that it hit her: tonight, she'd be spending her wedding night with him.

But she had no idea how to interact with her new husband—especially considering she was a substitute bride.

Born an illegitimate daughter of a wealthy family, Clara Bennett had been forced to marry this penniless man in place of her older sister, all to fulfill a decades-old engagement arranged by their parents.

In return, she'd receive a substantial dowry—money that could save her mother's life, fund her younger brother's education, and give her family a chance at a decent future.

Clara Bennett took a deep breath and, trembling like a frightened rabbit, shuffled toward the bathroom. "I... I'll go wash up too."

The man's gaze flickered, a subtle pause in his expression.

She stood quickly and darted into the bathroom, reaching to lock the door—only to realize the rickety wooden panel didn't even have a latch. She froze. Her life before this hadn't been luxurious, but it had never been this destitute.

Her eyes welled up slightly as she hesitated, reluctant to shed her dress.

Outside, the man seemed to sense her unease. His voice rumbled low and steady, "I'll step out for a smoke. Take your time."

Clara Bennett's chest tightened. She pressed her ear to the door, listening as his footsteps faded. The front door creaked open, then silence fell.

The peeling walls bore a faded red "happiness" symbol, a stark contrast to the reality around her. Just the day before the wedding, a storm had torn through Harrington, leaving the streets littered with toppled signs and broken trees. Amid that chaos, Clara Bennett had gotten married.

No fancy wedding car had come for her. She'd trudged a long distance to climb into a beat-up van that rattled through the countryside for hours before reaching Willow Creek, a rural village. The muddy roads had stained her shoes and gown.

The old folks in town whispered that marrying in such weather was a bad omen, a promise of an unhappy life.

But Clara Bennett had long stopped caring about her own happiness.

She stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying her hair.

Her husband still hadn't returned. That cigarette must've been a long one.

She glanced around the two-room cottage. The roof leaked in places, and it was rough around the edges, but with some effort, it could be a decent home. A faint smile tugged at her lips. While he was still out, she tidied the place up, sweeping and straightening as best she could.

She was kneeling on the bed, tugging the blanket down, when the man walked back in.

Clara Bennett turned her head too quickly, and in her haste, the towel wrapped around her slipped to the floor. She gasped, instinctively crossing her arms over herself, but...

He'd already seen everything.

Flustered, Clara Bennett yanked the blanket up to cover herself, her face burning crimson.

The man's Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes darkened, a complex shimmer flickering within them. He stepped closer, his low, husky voice laced with a hint of something intimate. "It's getting late. Let's sleep—together."

He emphasized "together" this time.

Clara Bennett's heart nearly leaped out of her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut as a strong arm encircled her waist, pulling her into his embrace. She tumbled onto the bed beneath him...