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The Substitute Wife of the Billionaire

The Substitute Wife of the Billionaire

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The Substitute Wife is a captivating romance that blends intrigue, power, and love in a complex, emotional journey. Arielle is a woman who, through no fault of her own, is thrust into a dangerous and high-stakes situation when her stepmother forces her to marry Damien, the heir to one of the wealthiest families in the city. But there's more to this marriage than meets the eye. Damien, though incredibly handsome and successful, is cursed with a mysterious illness that prevents him from getting close to women without triggering painful and dangerous physical reactions. As Arielle enters the world of wealth and power, she's treated coldly by Damien, who views her as nothing more than a pawn in his family's game. But something unexpected happens when they touch-Arielle, unlike other women, doesn't trigger his illness. Despite the tension and the presence of Damien's long-time fiancée, a beautiful and calculating woman named Clara, the dynamics between Arielle and Damien begin to shift. What starts as a contract marriage to save both Arielle's life and Damien's family legacy soon evolves into something more. As secrets unravel, power struggles intensify, and hidden emotions surface, Arielle and Damien find themselves caught between family expectations, corporate warfare, and a love neither of them was prepared for.

Chapter 1 The wrong bride

Rain lashed against the grand glass windows of the Lancaster estate as Arielle Brooks stood before the heavy oak doors, her slender fingers trembling inside white lace gloves. The cold wind whipped her veil, reminding her with every sharp gust that she did not belong here-not in this mansion, not in this designer wedding dress, and certainly not at the altar waiting inside.

She was never supposed to be the bride.

"You'll marry him instead," her stepmother Marilyn had said that morning, brushing imaginary dust from her silk robe like it wasn't the most absurd thing a woman could say. "Cecilia has run off. We have no choice."

Arielle's voice had caught in her throat. "What do you mean, no choice? He's expecting Cecilia. You can't just-"

"I can, and I will," Marilyn snapped. "Do you think I'm going to let the Lancaster family cancel this marriage? This union is our golden ticket. No one will notice. Just keep the veil down. Say your vows. Then you can live a quiet life in the shadows of his wealth while we enjoy the privileges."

And now, here she was. An imposter in her stepsister's dress, moments from marrying the most feared and powerful man in the city-Damien Lancaster.

The first young master of the Lancaster Empire. Cold. Handsome. Untouchable.

Literally.

Damien had a strange illness, a condition that made his skin react violently to women's touch. Hives, rashes, difficulty breathing-no doctor had found a cure. His engagement to Vanessa Hart, a powerful heiress, was arranged years ago, but rumors swirled that even she had to keep her distance.

"Miss Brooks." A butler opened the door. "You're late."

Arielle swallowed her panic. "Let's get this over with," she muttered.

The hall inside was lined with crystal chandeliers and white roses. Guests sat in hushed confusion-none had seen the bride's face, and Damien stood at the altar, his expression carved in ice. Tall, dark-haired, dressed in a sharp black suit, his face was unreadable. Dangerous.

The ceremony was a blur. Her knees barely held her weight, and her voice cracked as she said, "I do." Damien didn't even glance at her as he muttered his vows with robotic disinterest.

The moment the officiant declared them husband and wife, Damien turned and offered his arm. She took it, heart pounding.

No rashes.

No reaction.

Damien looked down at their joined arms in mild surprise, then cold indifference returned to his face.

"Follow me," he said, voice like steel wrapped in silk.

They left the guests behind, entering a side hallway that led toward the private quarters of the estate. Damien said nothing until they reached the room-lavish, cold, and clearly untouched.

He turned to her, eyes sharp. "Take off the veil."

Arielle hesitated.

"I said take it off."

With shaking fingers, she removed the lace veil and lifted her chin. She expected him to shout, maybe even strike her.

Instead, he stared.

"You're not Cecilia."

"No."

His jaw clenched. "Who the hell are you?"

"Arielle Brooks. Her stepsister." She met his gaze. "She ran away this morning. I was forced into this."

"By who?"

"By Marilyn. My stepmother. She didn't want to lose the marriage alliance."

Damien laughed-low and humorless. "So they sent the family's backup plan?"

"I never wanted this."

"Good," he sneered, "because you're not wanted."

Arielle flinched, but forced herself to stay calm. "I understand. I'll stay out of your way."

"I don't care what you do-as long as you don't embarrass me. I'll deal with your family later." He turned his back to her. "You'll sleep in the guest wing."

"Fine."

"One more thing." He turned back, eyes narrowing. "You touched me."

Her heart skipped.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"No reaction." He stepped closer, his gaze scanning her face. "How?"

"I... I don't know."

He reached out suddenly, taking her hand.

Still nothing.

No rashes. No redness. No pain.

Damien's brow furrowed for the first time. Confusion replaced disdain-just for a second. Then he let go and turned away.

"Stay out of my sight."

The door slammed behind him.

Arielle sank into a chair, her hands still tingling from his grip. She hadn't expected his touch to feel so... warm. For a man known for his coldness, Damien's skin had felt strangely human.

A knock on the door startled her. An older woman with a kind, lined face stepped in. "I'm Madam Ava, the housekeeper."

"Nice to meet you," Arielle murmured.

The woman gave her a once-over, then said, "You're not the girl we were expecting."

"No."

"But you didn't hurt him." Ava's eyes narrowed in curiosity. "Fascinating."

Arielle's brows pulled together. "You know about his condition?"

"I've worked for this family for thirty years. I know more than anyone."

Ava stepped closer, voice low. "You might be the answer we've been waiting for, child. Don't give up-not yet."

Before Arielle could respond, Ava disappeared through the door, leaving behind only a whisper of hope.

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