I Got Married For Revenge

•~•Solane's POV

I never thought I'd be standing at the altar, exchanging vows with the man who had his mother kill me.

Yet here I was, clutching a bouquet of roses I had handpicked, wearing the most beautiful dress ever, ready to marry him under a new name and face. All for revenge.

"Do you, Solane Blackwood, take Nathaniel Grant to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

Once upon a time, the girl I used to be-Irene Lancaster, would've said yes without a second thought because she believed in the disaster called love.

But reality has a way of shattering even the prettiest illusions. Now I know, love is just a fairytale we try to force into reality-A poison disguised as nectar, sweet until it makes you sick.

My gaze flickered to Nathaniel, seated in his wheelchair, hands resting neatly in his lap, his expression unreadable as he looked up at me.

Once, I would have melted under that gaze. He was my world, my everything. I had even convinced myself he was one of those rare, perfect men-like the ones written about in romance novels.

Five years have passed, but it still feels like yesterday when my dream love came crashing down. And I still ask myself the same question-Was I foolish to believe in him, or was I just too blind to see the truth?

In the end, I realized I was both. I wasn't special. I wasn't different, like he said I was. I was just another girl he used, then tossed aside.

"Do you, Solane Blackwood, take Nathaniel Grant to be your lawfully wedded husband?..."

My heart pounded so hard it blocked out the rest of the priest's words as he asked again.

My lips parted to answer, and for a moment, I wondered if I could go through with it. But then I remembered the cliff, the fall, the betrayal....

---

Five Years Ago

---

"You must be the thing carrying my grandchild."

She was older-maybe in her late fifties-and dressed in a black coat that flared dramatically against the wind.

She stood right in front of me on the cliff, flanked by two men in matching dark suits, staring at me as if I were something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

"You're Nathaniel's mother, aren't you?" I asked, my voice far steadier than I felt.

She studied me for a moment, her gaze cold and calculating, before a slow smirk curled at the corners of her lips.

"Yes, Melissa Grant," she replied, her voice clipped, the smirk never faltering. "And meeting you... well, it's far from a pleasure, Irene Lancaster."

My stomach twisted as she spat my name, wrapped in disdain like it was some kind of curse.

"Where's Nathaniel?" I asked, trying to sound unaffected. "He told me to come here. He said-"

"He won't be coming," she interrupted smoothly, her tone as cold as the wind itself.

A cold knot settled in my chest, and nausea rolled in waves. "Why? Why wouldn't he come?"

Her smirk twisted into a mocking smile as she opened her mouth to answer, but then the shrill ring of a phone cut her off. Reaching into her coat, she pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen.

"Speak of the devil," she muttered, before answering in a casual tone. "Hello son."

The voice that crackled through was unmistakably Nathaniel's. "Have you seen her yet?"

His words made it sound like I was some problem that needed to be handled, and it made my stomach churn.

Melissa's eyes gleamed with malice as she replied, "Yes, she's right in front of me. Don't worry, darling. I'll handle everything... as always."

The call ended, and she slid the phone back into her coat like it was no more than a minor inconvenience.

The words-'I'll handle everything, as always' hung in the air, a weight pressing down on my chest.

I wanted to demand answers, to ask what she meant by that, but before I could form the words, she suddenly stepped closer, her presence too overpowering to ignore.

"Let's not waste each other's time, shall we?" she said, her voice much colder and carrying a hint of something I couldn't quite place.

"How much will it take for you to disappear and rid my son of this... unwanted child?"

The insult felt like a punch to the gut, leaving me momentarily breathless. I opened my mouth, but the words struggled to catch up to the anger flooding me.

"Excu-se me?" I stammered, the shock making it hard to process her audacity.

Her laughter rang out-bitter, harsh, and filled with scorn. "Oh, please," she scoffed. "You got involved with him to land the Grant name, didn't you? Thought you'd get a piece of the fortune."

I could feel my blood boiling, my temper rising with every word she spoke. "I don't want your damn money."

She scoffed again, her eyes narrowing as she sized me up. "That's what they all say. But let me make it clear-someone like you isn't fit to carry my grandchild."

Her words dug into me like a knife, and I clenched my hands into fists. My lips parted open to give her a fitting reply but before I could speak, she threw out an amount that left me momentarily speechless.

"One million," she said coldly, her tone flat, almost bored. "Take it and get rid of the child. I won't offer you anything more because that's all you're worth."

My brows furrowed-not in surprise, but in disbelief.

One million?!-It was barely enough to buy one of those ridiculously rare, hand-crafted designer pens-an object I'd probably lose in two days.

The fact that she thought such a small sum could buy my child's life was so pathetic that it nearly made my blood boil over. It was so insulting, I thought I might explode.

But then, the grim realization dawned on me. I couldn't entirely blame her for thinking so little of me.

After all, I was the one who had hidden my true identity-a wealthy heiress with a fortune far greater than theirs from Nathaniel, all in the hope of finding true love that was not at all influenced by my money or social standing.

"Thanks for the ridiculous offer," I said, my voice steady, despite the fury simmering inside me.

"...But no amount of money will make me get rid of my baby. I came here because Nathaniel asked me to, and I also came because I wanted to give him a chance to be a father..."

"...But if this is how he feels-if he's too much of a fucking coward to face me himself-tell him that not only would I be keeping the baby, but he would be no father to it."

Her smile faltered, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw something flicker in her eyes, but it vanished too quickly for me to understand what it meant.

"Well, that's unfortunate," she said, her voice calm, too calm. "I came here with two options for you. And it seems you've chosen the second."

A chill crept over me. The air felt thinner, colder. I knew something was off, but I couldn't put my finger on it until she spoke again.

"And by the way, the second option is death," she said, her voice cutting through the air like a blade.

I froze, disbelief spreading across my body like ice. For a split second, I thought I had misheard her. But the cold gleam in her eyes confirmed that I hadn't.

Before I could react, her hand shot out, shoving me with brutal force. I stumbled back, my feet slipping on the gravel, my arms flailing to catch my balance, but it was no use.

Then the ground beneath me disappeared.

The air rushed past me as I fell, and for a moment, everything went still. The world seemed to hold its breath, suspended in time.

And then, darkness swallowed me whole.

---

Present

---

"Solane?"

I blinked, the memory slowly clearing away like smoke. Nathaniel's voice was soft-but I knew better. That gentleness wasn't concern. It was fear. Fear that I wouldn't go through with the wedding.

His family's empire was crumbling, and wedding me-Solane Blackwood, publicly Zane Lancaster's niece but unknown to them, his daughter, Irene Lancaster-was their last desperate attempt to save it since no other wealthy family would allow their daughter to marry a man confined to a wheelchair.

"The priest is waiting for your answer," he reminded me, his tone even, unreadable.

I straightened, lifting my chin. Then, with a slow, deliberate smile, I met his gaze.

"Yes... Yes, I do."

•~•Solane's POV

It's funny, really-how people preach forgiveness as if it's the ultimate virtue, a balm for all wounds.

"Revenge will only destroy you," they say, spouting tired platitudes. But they don't understand.

Some wounds cut so deep that forgiveness feels like betrayal-it's like handing your enemy the weapon they'll use to hurt you again.

My Grandmother had a saying, "When you dig a grave for your enemy, dig one for yourself too." Wise words, I suppose, for someone who never lived to see the kind of betrayal I endured.

Forgiveness wasn't an option for me-it felt like surrendering. Revenge was the only way to make them pay for every ounce of pain they had caused me and to truly heal.

So dear Grandmother, my sincerest apologies-but I don't fucking care if I'm buried next to my enemies, still clutching these grudges like heirlooms.

The crisp night air carried the briny scent of the ocean beyond the hotel where Nathaniel and I were staying for our honeymoon.

A gentle breeze played with the silk of my nightgown as I leaned against the glass railing of the balcony, gazing down at the shadowy waves below.

From up here, everything seemed small-almost insignificant.

Almost.

The phone in my hand buzzed, shattering the quiet. I glanced at the screen-Dad.

With a sigh, I answered.

"Irene."

My body tensed, fingers tightening around the phone until my knuckles turned white. "Dad... you've got to stop calling me that. I'm Solane now, not Irene."

"I know. I'm sorry sweetheart." His voice softened, heavy with guilt. "It's just... I can't get used to calling you that. Not when the original Solane Blackwood died nearly eighteen years ago."

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. "So did Irene Lancaster... five years ago," I said quietly.

A heavy pause hung between us.

Then his voice broke through, steady but fragile. "Yes, but you're still you. Even if you've changed your face and are living under your late cousin's name, that doesn't change who you are."

A short, humorless laugh escaped my lips as my chest tightened. "You get betrayed by someone you love, pushed off a cliff, survive-only to lose your child and the ability to ever have one again. Tell me, Dad... do you still remain the same?"

Silence-Again.

It stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. But I wasn't expecting an answer. Some questions didn't need one.

I swallowed hard, clearing my throat. "Why did you call?"

"Your mother made me," he admitted, his voice heavy. "She's been pacing the mansion, wearing holes into the floor with worry. It's the first time in five years you've been away from home-and alone with that bastard. I wish there was another way to deal with this."

I exhaled, my voice flat. "Well, this is the best way. And by the way, I'm alone right now. Nathaniel isn't here," I assured him.

"Tell Mom she doesn't need to worry. I'll be fine."

"You know she won't stop worrying," he said, though I could hear the worry in his own voice too. "...And about your plan to make him fall for you-I can't help but wonder if it'll even work."

I smirked, my thumb tracing the scar hidden beneath my robe-a jagged line from hip to rib, a permanent reminder of the fall that should have killed me.

"Well, you know what they say Dad... When you want to destroy a kingdom, you don't attack the walls. You make the king destroy it from within."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, and I could tell he was trying to make sense of my words. Then he said, "Meaning?"

"Meaning," I began, my eyes narrowing, the vision of my revenge unfolding in my mind, "To get my revenge on the Grants, I first need to make Nathaniel fall in love with Solane Blackwood. Only then can I use him to destroy both him and his mother."

A heavy sigh came from the other end of the line. "Just... be careful. If he starts suspecting-"

"He won't." I cut him off, my voice firm. "And don't worry, Dad. You and Mom won't lose me again...I promise."

I could hear the heaviness in Dad's voice-reluctance mixed with trust. "Alright, sweetheart... Call me if anything goes wrong. I love you."

"I will... Love you too," I said, then hung up.

As I lowered the phone from my ear and turned around, my heart skipped a beat at the sight before me.

Nathaniel sat in his wheelchair, right at the entrance of the sliding glass door. The dim lighting cast sharp shadows across his face, but his eyes-unreadable-were fixed on me.

My breath hitched. My fingers went slack around the phone, and it slipped from my hand, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Shit!

•~•Aziel's POV

------

Two Weeks Ago

------

The familiar scent of antiseptic filled the air as I wheeled myself into the hospital ward. I had been here more times than I could count, and yet each visit felt like a fresh wound, reopening all over again.

My mother was there as usual, sitting beside the hospital bed, her hand gently brushing through his hair-The real Nathaniel Grant, my identical twin brother.

He lay beneath the crisp white sheets, an oxygen mask over his face and a few wires attached to his body, keeping him connected to the world.

She stared lovingly at him as if he was the only thing that mattered, her touch gentle, full of care, like she was afraid to disturb his fragile peace.

It was a tenderness I had never known, not once in my life, and a bitter ache grew in my chest, but I pushed it back.

"How is he?" I asked, my voice colder than I meant it to be.

My mother didn't look at me. "The same as yesterday. The same as he's been for the last five years." Her voice was as cold as always. She only ever reserved warmth for one son, and it wasn't me.

Silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken resentment.

"You called me here," I finally said.

She gestured to the small table beside Nathaniel's bed, where a brown file was placed.

I wheeled closer, my fingers brushing the edge of the file before I flipped it open.

Photos spilled out-images of a young woman. A woman who looked strikingly familiar, though I couldn't place where I had seen her before.

I frowned, my mind racing as I tried to remember. Then it clicked-about a month ago at one of the strip clubs I often visited.

"Who is she?" I muttered, my eyes scanning the photos, a growing sense of unease creeping up from the depth of my stomach.

"Solane Blackwood," my mother said, finally turning to face me. "Zane Lancaster's niece."

I stiffened.

Zane Lancaster. Just hearing the name was enough to silence a room. A man who built an empire from the ground up, using scraps left behind by his grandfather.

His wealth was so immense that if a gold digger managed to worm their way in, they'd leave with more than what most other wealthy families could ever dream of having-and Zane wouldn't even notice the loss.

And now, this girl-his niece, Solane Blackwood-was standing at the center of whatever dangerous game my mother was playing.

I exhaled, slowly shutting the file. "What about her?"

"Zane wants her married before the year ends," my mother replied smoothly. "And I managed to secure her for our family."

I could feel my jaw tighten, the pieces already falling into place, but I forced myself to ask, "And?" My voice barely held my composure.

"You're going to marry her," my mother said without hesitation. "...In Nathaniel's name..."

My fingers clenched around the file.

"I thought all of this-marrying someone under Nathaniel's name-ended with Shoshana Bates."

My mother's face hardened in a flash, her anger flaring. "Ended?! Your wedding to Shoshana Bates wouldn't have been canceled if you hadn't gotten yourself attacked by those thugs and ended up stuck in a wheelchair..."

"...You ruined my plans with the Bates, and now you're questioning this new one?!"

I clenched my jaw, the words bitter on my tongue. "You talk as if I intentionally got myself crippled."

She scoffed, her eyes turning cold. "What happened to you might not have been your fault," she said, her tone sharp as a knife, "but what happened to Nathaniel five years ago? The reason he's been lying here in a coma all this time...it's all on you."

The guilt had always been there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but hearing her say it out loud twisted something deep inside me, making it feel real, sharp.

"If you hadn't gotten involved with that girl-"

"Irene. She has a name." I cut her off, my voice sharp.

Her eyes flashed-anger, definitely, but there was something else too, a hint of something darker.

"Nathaniel never loved her," I continued, lowering my voice. "He was playing her. She was naive and a virgin, unlike the other girls he messed around with. He wanted to keep her close, even though he was engaged to Shoshana Bates, and still-"

"That didn't mean you had the right to covet her and try to steal her for yourself," she snapped, cutting me off mid-sentence.

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Covet and try to steal her? Your precious son was the one who begged me to switch places with him, just so he could run off with other girls and his fiancée while I kept her company."

I shook my head, a dry laugh slipping past my lips. "How is it my fault that I ended up falling for her?"

Her nostrils flared, and her face twisted in disgust. "Enough!" she hissed. "I don't want to hear about that girl anymore."

Her features smoothed into something emotionless as she glanced at Nathaniel's unconscious form, her voice flat. "...She's part of the reason he's lying in this hospital bed."

I scoffed. "Of course. It's never Nathaniel's fault. Nothing is ever his fault." My fingers dug into the handles of my wheelchair, the tension in my body growing with each word, while a rush of frustration coiled in my chest, tightening. For the first time in five years, I struggled to keep it all in check.

"I've spent my entire life living in Nathaniel's shadow..." The bitterness was sharp on my tongue.

"...And the last five years pretending to be him-just the spare twin in your twisted little game-and I still don't get a say in any of this!" My voice cracked on the last word, heavy with years of pent-up resentment.

I paused, trying to steady my breathing. "I can't even remember the last time someone called me by my actual name."

My voice was quieter now, tinged with an ache I hadn't let myself feel in a long time-the ache of being forgotten gnawing at me.

"Aziel... There it is. I just said your name." Her voice was cold and dismissive, as if it meant nothing more than a fleeting formality.

"No...I don't want to hear it from you."

"Then from who?" Her tone was almost mocking, as if daring me to mention someone else.

I couldn't answer. Not because I didn't have someone in mind, but because deep down, I knew it wouldn't matter. My mother didn't care. She never had.

I had spent so long trying to be seen, to matter in her eyes-but it was always futile. No matter how hard I tried, I was just a shadow compared to Nathaniel, always overlooked by her. She never truly saw me.

She started to speak again, her voice quieter this time, but there was no softness in it. "This isn't something you can just choose to do or not do. So for once, stop being so self-centered and do something for this family!"

Silence descended over the ward like a heavy fog, stretching on for what felt like an eternity before she finally broke it.

"We're running low on funds, and somehow the investors found out I've been pulling money from the company..." Her words were clipped, and laced with the pressure of a sinking ship.

"...Fortunately, they haven't figured out it's been going toward your brother's treatment, but they're digging, and it's only a matter of time before they find out-and probably also that it's not you lying here."

She paused, her eyes narrowing as the reality of it all settled in. "If we don't do something-"

"...Marrying Solane Blackwood in Nathaniel's name is the only option?" I interrupted, already knowing where her words were headed.

She lifted her chin, her gaze hardening. "It's the only way to save this family. And the only way I can forgive you for what happened to Nathaniel."

Her voice dropped even lower, "It's the only way you can atone for your sins."

"And don't worry about the girl," she added, her tone dismissive. "She's too naive to realize you're just a copy."

'Just a copy'-Her words burrowed into me like a dagger, twisting and cutting deeper than I cared to admit, but I stayed silent and simply wheeled myself out of the ward, my hands gripping the wheelchair's handles so tight my knuckles turned white.

The long white halls blurred as I moved past them, and I didn't stop until I was outside, the hospital doors closing softly behind me.

The cool night air hit me, but it couldn't cool the fire building in my chest. I inhaled deeply, trying to clear my head, but the weight of the situation only grew heavier.

My thoughts scattered in every direction, but one burned brighter than the rest-why did Zane Lancaster agree to give his niece to a man in a wheelchair?

The same me that the Bates family and every other elite family had refused to marry their daughters to.

Just then, my phone buzzed-A text message.

I glanced at the screen and frowned at the familiar number.

It was the same one that had called me five years ago after Nathaniel's accident. The same one that had sent me that video.

Over the last five years, I had tried to trace the source, but I had never gotten any closer.

My stomach lurched as I clicked on the message, dreading what it might say this time.

"She's alive. Solane Blackwood is Irene Lancaster..."