The dying heir to Silverbay's showbiz empire suddenly announces he'll select a bride at random from the city's prominent families, hoping the marriage can bring some luck and save his life.

On the night before my own wedding, his men arrive and inform us that the Simmons family has been chosen. My parents have just three days to deliver a daughter to him.

As soon as my sister, Roxanne Simmons, hears the news, she breaks down in tears and rushes to my fiance for help.

When he sees her crying, Clinton Whitfield drops to his knees in front of me, under everyone's gaze. "Mr. Sterling enjoys tormenting virgins. If Roxanne marries him, who knows what he'll do to her?

"But you're already past the marrying age, so he won't be interested in you. Please, help Roxy this once!"

He looks away, his voice heavy with guilt as he continues, "Besides, he doesn't have much time left. When you return, I'll marry you."

Tears well up in my eyes. I ask, stunned, "And what if I don't want to?"

Clinton's gaze turns cold, his earlier guilt replaced by ruthless intent. "Then I'll make sure you go to him myself."

I laugh bitterly as a chill runs through me. "Fine. I'll go instead."

It was the night before my wedding when my family learned that we had been selected to provide a bride for the ailing heir of Silverbay's showbiz empire. My father and stepmother had just three days to send one of their daughters.

My sister, Roxanne Simmons, panicked when she heard the news and begged my fiance, Clinton Whitfield, to intervene.

To my horror, he fell to his knees and pleaded for my help. He even promised me that once it was over, he'd marry me.

The moment I agreed to take Roxanne's place, Clinton's eyes lit up with joy. He rose, spread his arms, and said, "Gabby, I knew you'd never make things difficult for me. You've always been tough, and no one could push you around.

"But Roxanne's different. She's spent her whole life depending on others, careful and guarded every step of the way. She needs to be protected."

Having said that, he tried to hold me as he once had, but I shoved him away with all my strength.

Watching Clinton gaze at Roxanne with such tenderness made my eyes sting with unshed tears.

Roxanne's mother, Miranda Graham, was the mistress who eventually replaced my mother.

Roxanne moved into our home when she was three and quickly became the apple of my father's eyes. Whatever she wanted, he made sure she got it.

When I was five, I had saved every penny of my allowance to buy a doll—only for Miranda to snatch it and give it to Roxanne.

At 12, I was accepted into the city's top high school. However, my father had said, "We will take care of you." And just like that, Roxanne took my spot.

Later, when she failed her exams, she cried, accusing me of flaunting my acceptance to a top university. In response, my father cut off my living allowance for all four years of college.

When he heard what had happened, Clinton choked back tears and begged the Whitfields to fund my education.

"Gabby, every time I see how strong you are, it breaks my heart a little more. What your family wouldn't give you, I will," he had promised.

He had forgotten that it was the strength he once admired that made me the woman I had become.

Now, I fought back my tears and said, "Go. As for our engagement, let's just act as if it never happened."

This time, Clinton didn't see through my reluctance and hurt like he used to. Instead, he nodded firmly before helping Roxanne to her feet.

"Gabby, when you return, I'll divorce Roxanne and marry you!"

Meanwhile, Roxanne's face was streaked with tears as she kept thanking me through sobs. "Gabby, thank you for letting me have this! But my engagement to Clint happened so suddenly…

"The wedding's tomorrow, and I don't even have anything to bring with me. Could you give me what you had set aside for yours?"

She batted her lashes as she spoke, looking innocent. Yet, the greed in her gaze was unmistakable.

Roxanne was talking about what my mother had left me. It was the company shares and estate she had risked her life to earn in a deal with the company.

I could still remember my mother pulling me close on her deathbed, saying, "Gabby, this money is your safety net."

I had never spent a single cent of it, not even when my living allowance was cut in university.

"No way. Letting go of the engagement is already the biggest concession I could make," I replied firmly.

Clinton frowned in displeasure. "Gabby, you weren't always so petty. You and Roxanne are sisters. If she's humiliated at the wedding tomorrow, won't that reflect on you? Just give it to her."

Without me even realizing it, his favor had already tipped toward Roxanne.

Just then, my father, Derek Simmons, came over to persuade me.

"Gabriella, you're about to marry into the Sterling family. Even if you take the money with you, it won't be of any use. Give it to Roxy, okay? I'll prepare something else for you later."

I couldn't believe my ears. My eyes burned red as I stared at the two people I had always called family.

"Everyone knows Roxanne and I can't stand each other! If she's humiliated, what does that have to do with me?" I snapped. "Dad, every time you've taken my things, you promised to make it up. But have you actually done it?"

Almost immediately, Roxanne burst into tears again, tugging at Clinton's sleeve and shaking her head. "Clint, forget it. Gabriella never liked me, anyway. She's just waiting to see me humiliated."

Roxanne continued, "I'll tell everyone at the wedding that it wasn't Gabby's fault. No one should blame her for any of this."

The more she gave in, the tighter Clinton pulled her into his arms.

His expression darkened, and in the next second, he launched into a tirade. "Just look at your sister! She's always thinking of you!

"Gabriella Simmons, I'll give you ten minutes to bring over everything your mother left you and hand it over to Roxanne. Don't forget—I still have that video of you coming on to me the night you got drunk!"

I stared at him in disbelief. My voice was hoarse as I shot back, "Clinton Whitfield, are you seriously using that to threaten me? And you call yourself a man?"

But he scoffed in response. Whatever trace of guilt he had shown before was already gone.

"Don't forget today is the anniversary of your mother's death," Clinton hissed. "She spent her life teaching you to have self-respect. You wouldn't want her to know how shameless you've become since she died, would you?"

His words cut deep, and for the first time, he felt like a stranger to me.

Even so, I unclenched my fists and nodded, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. "Fine. I'll give it to her."

…

The sudden change of bride at the Whitfield and Simmons wedding quickly became the subject of everyone's gossip.

Without warning, Clinton's assistant, Martin Grant, appeared at my door.

He practically dragged me to the venue and forced me to change into a bridesmaid's dress, saying, "Mr. Whitfield said rumors are going around that Ms. Roxanne stole your fiance. He's asking you to do her the favor of being her bridesmaid to put an end to the gossip."

I looked down at the dress and laughed through the tears.

What a joke. I was standing as a bridesmaid at the wedding of the man I once loved—nothing more than a prop to make his new bride happy.

Then, I was pushed onto the stage. Roxanne linked her arm through mine, smiling sweetly.

"Gabby, haven't you noticed the way everyone's looking at you?" she whispered, her voice laced with provocation.

That was when I realized all the men were staring at my chest and waist. Their eyes crawled over me, lewd and filthy.

A beat later, Roxanne added with a smug smile, "Clint didn't want anyone gossiping about me, so he shifted all the attention to you. The video he mentioned last night? He's already uploaded it. It's got over 100 thousand views!"

My mind went blank at once. I fumbled for my phone and saw the trending headline.

It read, "Shocking! Simmons Heiress Caught Cheating Before the Wedding! Clinton Whitfield Forced to Marry Another!"

The man's face was blurred in the photo, but mine was unmistakable. I was naked and shown as the one who made the move.

Beneath it, the comment section was a torrent of insults.

One wrote, "She's about to get married, and she can't even hold herself back?"

Another said, "She looks so innocent, but turns out she's so freaky!"

My hands trembled as I shoved Roxanne aside and ran backstage, only to hear Clinton laughing with his friends.

"Hey, Clint, that's you in the photo, right? Gabriella's body is unreal! How did you even have the heart to post that? Aren't you afraid she'll back out of the wedding?"

Clinton let out a resigned sigh. "I had no choice. It's the only way to give Roxanne a wedding without scandal. Besides, I know Gabriella. After all these years together, she'd never actually walk away."

I couldn't take it anymore. In a flash, I stormed into the room and struck him hard across the face.

"Clinton Whitfield! You're despicable!" I yelled.

Panic flashed across his face. He grabbed my hand instinctively and explained, "Hear me out, Gabriella. This is for your own good. You know what people say about Mr. Sterling. Maybe if he sees this, he'll call off the engagement himself."

Clinton spoke so self-righteously. He had trampled my dignity, yet saw it as doing me a favor.

A chill ran through me as I asked, "This was Roxanne's idea, too, wasn't it?"

His eyes flickered. But just as he was about to speak, Roxanne burst in, sobbing.

"Clint, what should I do? Mr. Porter grabbed me by the waist, and I couldn't help it. I threw water at his face! Now, he's demanding that I grovel in front of everyone!"

All at once, Clinton let go of me and rushed to comfort her. "That's outrageous! Roxy, I won't let you apologize to someone like that!"

Then, he turned to me, his gaze icy. "Gabriella, you'll apologize to Mr. Porter on Roxanne's behalf!"

Having said that, he hauled me toward Landon Porter.

"Mr. Porter, Roxanne only lost her temper because of that scandal online about Gabriella. That's why she offended you. I'll have Gabriella apologize. Please don't hold it against Roxanne."

Having said that, Clinton shot Martin a look. Soon, several bodyguards in black came up behind me, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me down onto my knees.

Landon looked me over, his gaze full of lust. Then, he lifted my chin and said, "So, it's you. Five years ago, I told you I'd sign that contract if you spent one night with me. But you'd rather die than agree. Now, look at you—on your knees before me."

Five years ago, when Clinton's company was just starting out, I went to Landon to discuss a potential partnership. Over dinner, he got handsy.

As soon as Clinton heard about it, he burst into the private room, grabbed a wine bottle, and hurled it at Landon.

"I'm telling you right now—Gabriella is my woman! No one touches her! I don't care if I have to give up the company—I'll never let her suffer even a shred of humiliation!" he had yelled.

But now, he had me pinned to the floor, forcing me to do Landon's bidding for Roxanne's sake.

At that moment, Roxanne shot Landon a knowing glance, then turned to Clinton with feigned concern.

"Clinton, Mr. Porter is one of our biggest clients. I doubt a simple apology will do. He seems to fancy Gabriella. She's not marrying Mr. Sterling until tomorrow, so why not let her spend the night with him to smooth things over?"

A flicker of hesitation crossed Clinton's eyes, but after a moment of her coaxing, he nodded. "Gabriella, it's just one night. Do it for the company. Once Mr. Porter cools off, I'll make it up to you."

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. I couldn't believe how completely he had let me down.

In the next instant, I broke free from the bodyguards' grip. I grabbed a glass of wine and threw it at their faces, then another, and another.

"Don't even think about it, Clinton!"

Ignoring the furious shouts behind me, I turned and stormed out of the venue.

…

By then, the Sterling family had already sent over wedding gifts worth millions of dollars.

My lips curved into a wry smile as I stared at the boxes of glittering jewelry. Maybe Mr. Sterling wasn't such a bad man, after all.

…

The next morning, I slipped into my wedding gown and waited for the Sterlings to arrive. But before them, Clinton and Roxanne showed up first.

Without missing a beat, the bodyguards behind him dragged me into the bathroom and started ripping my wedding gown.

"What the hell are you doing, Clinton? I'm about to get married!"

Roxanne clapped her hands, and a doctor stepped in. With a sweet smile, she said, "Gabby, Clint's only thinking of what's best for you. He thought it'd be better if you got your tubes tied before marrying into the Sterling family.

"It's one thing that you're no longer pure, but you can't come back here with another man's child, can you?"

The second her words settled, the bodyguards yanked up my dress.

I was shaking all over as I shouted, "Clinton! Make them stop! How dare you lay a hand on me? Aren't you afraid the Sterlings will make you pay?"

Yet, he stood there with his arm around Roxanne's waist.

"It'll be over in a few minutes. Just bear with it," he replied coldly. "Gabriella, when you come back, you'll still belong to me. But I won't let you bring another man's child into my life."

With that, he addressed the man, "Doctor, go ahead."

Clinton's words hit me like a bucket of ice water, chilling me to the bone. He knew my only wish was to have a child with the man I loved. And still, he crushed it without a second thought.

The doctor stepped into the bathroom, pulled down his mask, and reached for me with a twisted grin.

To my horror, he wasn't a doctor at all. It was Landon!

"Let me out, Clinton! Roxanne's played you! He's not a doctor—"

Before I could finish, Roxanne looked at me with a triumphant smile. "Enjoy yourself."

Then, she closed the door behind her.

Tears streamed down my face, and I trembled from the pain.

…

20 minutes later, I lay on the floor like a crumpled ball of paper, tossed aside without care.

Clinton yanked me to my feet, impatience written all over his face. "It was just a minor procedure. Stop crying! You've gotten way too dramatic lately. The Sterlings are here. Get downstairs."

Outside, the Sterling family's procession had arrived.

A man stepped slowly out of the lead limousine. But as soon as he saw the state I was in, his expression turned grim.

"Clinton Whitfield! What have you done to Gabriella?" he roared.

Clinton froze at the familiar voice. A moment later, his head snapped up.

When he saw who it was, he went pale, too shocked to speak. "H-How is it you?"