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.

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?

Aria's POV

After Aiden left, his parting words echoed relentlessly in my mind: "I'll come pick up Mrs. Carter in a week."

The way he'd said it-so calmly, so confidently-made my stomach twist into knots. My appetite had completely vanished, replaced by a knot of anxiety in my stomach. Was this his way of punishing me for my impulsive marriage proposal? To take it seriously when I had been half-expecting him to laugh in my face?

I hadn't yet found the courage to tell my father about what I'd done. How could I explain that I'd traded our most valuable property for a marriage certificate with the Carter family heir-Liam's biggest business rival, no less?

As I sat in the living room contemplating how to break the news to my father, my phone lit up with Lillian's incoming video call. Perfect timing-I needed to tell someone about this whole mess.

"Hey, Lil-"

"Aria!" Lillian's face appeared on screen, her expression livid. "Have you seen what that snake Sophia is doing now? I swear, I've never wanted to strangle someone so badly in my life!"

My confession died on my lips. "What happened?"

"Check your social media right now. You're trending again."

With a sinking feeling, I opened my phone's browser and searched for my name. Sure enough, there I was, trending at number five: "Turns out getting left at the altar isn't the worst thing."

I tapped on it with trembling fingers. The first post was a series of photos showing Liam and Sophia at a Chanel boutique, looking at engagement rings. Sophia was beaming as Liam slid a massive diamond onto her finger, her expression one of pure triumph.

An anonymous "insider" had provided context to the photos:

"Remember that nationally famous runaway groom scandal from two weeks ago? Where the bride got into a car accident while chasing after her fiancé? Well, my friend is in their social circle and just discovered something even more heartbreaking!

Today was supposed to be Aria and Liam's four-year dating anniversary-the day they planned to get their marriage license after returning from their honeymoon! Instead, I spotted the runaway groom at Chanel, buying a ring for his 'true love.' Just when you thought Aria Jones couldn't be any more pitiful, life proves you wrong!"

I scrolled down, each comment hitting like a physical blow:

"Poor Aria Jones. First abandoned at the altar, now watching her ex shop for rings with his new girlfriend ON THEIR SPECIAL DAY."

"Maybe she should take the hint? If a man risks his reputation to run from marrying you, you might be the problem..."

"Sophia Clarke looking gorgeous as always! Can we blame Liam for upgrading?"

"I feel bad for Aria, but clearly these two are meant for each other. The heart wants what it wants!"

"Anyone else think the timing is suspicious? Sophia's playing chess while Aria's still figuring out checkers."

I scrolled back up, noticing that Lillian was still ranting about Sophia and her friends.

"All of Sophia's little minions are posting the same pictures on social media with the caption 'Sophia deserves this.' Can you believe it?" Lillian was practically shouting now. "What exactly does she deserve? The chance to steal someone else's fiancé and then rub it in their face?"

Normally, such a calculated attack would have left me sobbing. But something had changed within me. Instead of feeling crushed, I felt oddly detached-almost amused by their transparent attempt to hurt me.

"Aria? Are you okay?" Lillian's concerned voice brought me back to our call. "I can come over if you need me."

I smiled at her, surprising both of us. "Actually, I'm fine,Lil.I'm better than fine."

"You don't look fine. You look... different." Lillian peered closer at her screen. "What happened ?"

"I'll tell you everything soon. Promise." I replied. "I'll call you back in a bit, okay?"

After ending the call, I did something that probably shocked Sophia's entire circle. I opened each of their smug social media posts and liked them all. Every single "Sophia deserves this" received my digital thumbs-up.

Then, with a determined grip on my crutch, I hobbled back to my bedroom. On my dresser sat the marriage certificate I'd received just hours ago-tangible proof of my impulsive decision. I picked it up, carefully angling my phone to capture the document while keeping the key details hidden.

With steady fingers, I posted it to my social media with a simple two-word caption: "Already married."

I set my phone down and took a deep breath, feeling strangely liberated. Liam wanted to turn our relationship into a public spectacle?

Fine. I'll play along - let's see who outplays who.