Substitute Bride: Trapped Her In His World

Isabella woke with a splitting headache. She barely managed to focus on the window, where sunlight bled through the gaps in the poorly drawn curtains.

She had slept little, a fact announced by the dark circles bruising the skin beneath her eyes, which were swollen from crying. The weight of the past few days was crushing her.

She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and sighed at the time glowing on the screen. It was just past six in the morning. There was no sign of Benedict. He probably couldn't stand the sight of her, which was why he'd stayed out all night.

With a stifled sigh, she forced herself out of bed. She had to go downstairs and face whatever came next.

She walked over to her small, worn suitcase in the corner and opened it. Her choices were limited. A couple of plain dresses and four skirts with blouses were all she owned. She took one of the dresses and went to the bathroom to shower.

When she came down the stairs, a gray-haired man, every bit as intimidating as her husband, was raking his eyes over her from head to foot.

"Ah, you must be Alessia." The man, dressed in a tailored navy suit, stood and offered her his hand.

Isabella gave a slight nod, the new name still feeling foreign and wrong.

"My name is Antony. I'm your husband's stepfather. We didn't get a proper introduction yesterday, but I hope we can be good friends."

"Hello." Isabella took his hand for a brief, hesitant moment, but just then the front door opened and Benedict walked in.

"I see you've already met my stepfather. You don't waste any time, do you?" he murmured in her ear, but the cold smile on his face made his meaning perfectly clear: he was thinking the absolute worst of her.

"Yes, we were just introducing ourselves. I don't know anyone in this house. It makes sense to introduce myself," she explained.

"Or to look for your next source of money," he replied before striding toward the stairs.

Isabella felt herself shrink under his stare as he ascended. His words always found a way to cut her. It was already painfully clear that he saw her as a schemer, and he never missed an opportunity to remind her.

Benedict took the stairs two at a time, while his right-hand man, Blas, remained in the living room.

"Good morning." An older woman, impeccably elegant, emerged from one of the rooms and glided over to Isabella.

Nora possessed the same commanding aura as Benedict, and a familiar intimidation washed over Isabella. Her very bearing radiated arrogance and power. "Alessia, come with me to the study. I need to speak with you."

Isabella knew this was Benedict's mother. She had heard plenty about Nora Arrabal, and none of it was good. She knew Nora was a woman capable of anything to keep her clan at the apex of power.

Everyone suspected she'd had a hand in the deaths of Benedict's brother, Egil Arrabal, and his entire family. Though no proof ever surfaced, the rumors were unforgiving. This was a woman Isabella had to be careful around, lest her own secrets be discovered.

Isabella followed her to the study as commanded.

"You are my son's wife," Nora stated, settling into the large chair behind the desk. She held herself like a queen on her throne.

Her eyes swept over Isabella, a clinical assessment, just as Antony's had been. "I chose you for him because I believe you are the only one who can play this part perfectly. As you know, two years ago his pregnant wife died in a car accident on her way to the airport. She was returning home. A great pity."

The ghost of a smile that touched Nora's lips sent a chill through Isabella, but she kept her expression blank.

"Since the head of the clan cannot be without a wife and an heir, we made an arrangement with your family for this marriage. From today on, your responsibility is to remain by my son's side at all times. You will attend to whatever he demands. Not only in this house, but at the company as well. You will accompany him and serve as his assistant."

Isabella's mouth opened to protest, but the words died on her tongue. It was pointless. Since she had arrived in this house, they had done nothing but issue orders. She had no idea how she would get close to Benedict without him wanting to kill her, but she would have to find a way.

She nodded. "I will, ma'am."

"Perfect. You may go now." Nora dismissed her with a flick of her wrist.

Isabella gave a brief nod and left.

Benedict took a quick shower before getting dressed for work.

"Sir..." Norma, one of the maids, opened the door without knocking.

He shot her a sharp, frowning glance, especially since he was only half-dressed. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm getting dressed?"

"Sorry. Since your wife is already having breakfast, I thought you were ready. Mrs. Nora Arrabal asks that you go to the study before leaving for the office," the woman said, her gaze lingering on Benedict's bare torso.

He waved a dismissive hand at her. Norma scurried out.

Benedict could guess what his mother wanted. Forcing this marriage on him hadn't been enough; now she intended to control every aspect of his life. He'd see about that.