Married By Mistake To My Ex's Billionaire Uncle

Cassandra's POV

Music pounded through the speakers. The DJ was killing it; the night was at its peak. I scanned the dance floor as I stepped into the club.

God, I was a nervous wreck.

I twisted a strand of hair around my finger and forced a smile-the kind that showed too many teeth and fooled absolutely no one.

"Come on, Cassie, cheer up a little," my sister Aurelia said, laughing between her words. Her smile was contagious, and it usually loosened me up. Not tonight.

My nerves wouldn't let up.

"What if something happens?" I complained, spilling my fears in front of my little sister.

Aurelia narrowed her sharp hazel eyes. "Are you worried about Sinclair?" she asked with a pout.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. She'd nailed it.

Aurelia sighed and grabbed my hand.

"Oh, Cassie, relax. Nothing's going to happen to Sinclair, and tomorrow you'll have the perfect wedding." She started pulling me deeper into the club.

Her words didn't do much to calm me. How was I supposed to relax when Sinclair was at his bachelor party with those crazy friends of his? I pulled my hand free, and Aurelia turned with a frown.

"What if he drinks too much and doesn't show up to the wedding tomorrow?" I complained again.

I'd never liked the idea of that bachelor party and had opposed it from the start. His friends called me controlling, but it wasn't about that.

It was those bad influences Sinclair called "friends."

Aurelia groaned, already fed up with my whining. She took my face in both hands and forced me to look at her.

"Nothing is going to happen. Have fun. It's your last chance. Your friends are already waiting for you, so don't ruin the night, Cass."

Just then, a familiar high-pitched voice shouted from nearby, "Cassie, you finally made it!"

Rebecca, my best friend, snatched me out of Aurelia's hands.

"Enough standing around. It's party time!" she squealed, dragging me toward our table. It was my last night as a single woman, and the girls had planned everything. The problem was that I just couldn't switch off.

My God, getting married was exhausting.

Rebecca led me to the reserved VIP table, packed with familiar faces.

"The bride-to-be has arrived, girls! Let's get wild!" she announced.

Aurelia took my other hand.

"Time to let our hair down," she said, her voice bright with excitement.

There was no escape. Their enthusiasm rubbed off on me, and eventually, I let go and relaxed.

There was no reason to worry. Even if Sinclair's friends were idiots, he was a saint and quite responsible.

We toasted, drank, and had a great time. The DJ started playing my favorite tracks, and I ended up on the dance floor with Rebecca, who became my personal cheerleader.

I stood out in my tiara and "Bride-to-Be" sash-a little cheesy, but the girls had insisted.

Song after song, the night was only getting started.

While I was singing at the top of my lungs and dancing to "Did It First" by Ice Spice, I saw Aurelia slip off the dance floor to answer a call.

I shrugged. She was a grown woman. I had no reason to meddle in her business.

Time passed... half an hour.

"I need a break," I told Rebecca, my feet numb.

"Sure, rest for a bit. The male strippers will be here any minute," she said with a wink.

I almost choked. I gave her a "you're telling me this now?" look.

Rebecca laughed and pushed me toward the table. I sat down to watch the others having a blast, but my nerves got to me again. My fingers trembled out of habit.

It wasn't because of Rebecca's joke. It was because Aurelia had been gone too long. I frowned and started imagining the worst. My stomach churned.

What if she'd run into some dangerous guy?

I couldn't sit still.

I took advantage of Rebecca being distracted and went out to look for her.

"Where do I start?" I asked myself as I pushed my way through the crowd. The bathrooms at the back were quieter. Maybe she was there.

I escaped the chaos of the dance floor and reached a quieter hallway. The restrooms were at the end. I hurried, not wasting a second.

"Of course you do. You have the prettiest smile," a male voice said, half mocking and clearly flirting, from a sharp turn to the left.

I slowed without realizing it. I felt my heart slow down.

A frown formed on my forehead. That voice... it was too familiar. It made me nervous.

No. I shook my head.

Impossible.

Sinclair was with his friends on the other side of the city. There was no way he was here.

And even if he had come to this club, why hadn't he told me?

I gripped my dress in my fists. My body urged me to run over there. Just before I turned the corner, another familiar voice paralyzed me.

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head.

Her voice was soft. Playful. She let out a sweet giggle.

"Prettier than your fiancée?" she asked, her tone deliberately provocative.

My heart, which had just calmed, started racing again. It pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears.

No. This couldn't be happening.

Maybe it was just someone with a similar voice. Part of me wanted to turn around, go back to the club, and forget everything. Because deep down, I already knew that what I was about to see would destroy me.

But my body acted on its own, ignoring my mind and my heart, which couldn't bear it.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and peeked around the corner to confirm what I already suspected.

"Can we talk about something else? To me, you're the prettiest. If it weren't for my dad, I wouldn't even bother with that prude," the male voice said with disdain.

"But you're going to marry her anyway," Aurelia replied, pouting.

The scene left me petrified. I could only watch, my heart beating so fast it felt like it would burst out of my chest.

I should have screamed. Cried. Done anything to let them know I was there. But my brain froze, and they didn't even notice me.

My fiancé had his back to me. He had my sister pinned against the wall, wrapped in his arms. His large body covered hers as he tilted his head to kiss her skin slowly, as if savoring her...

I couldn't see his face, but I was sure it was the man I was marrying tomorrow. The same man I'd been dating since my freshman year of college. He was even wearing the custom leather jacket I'd given him for his last birthday.

On the back, it read, "Cassie is my favorite sin." It was cheesy, and his friends made fun of him for it, but he loved wearing it.

Sinclair von Duvall, my devoted fiancé, was secretly kissing my own sister on the eve of our wedding.

"I have no choice but to marry your boring sister..." he hissed as his hand slid slowly up her dress and slipped toward her panties.

She moaned and clung to him. Her eyes darted away from Sinclair for an instant.

A flash of surprise crossed her face... then it transformed into a provocative smile. Apparently, she had seen me. Instead of fear, she looked triumphant, as if she had won.

"You're so bad... What if Cassie catches us? Aren't you scared?"

He nibbled her ear and traced his tongue along the skin behind it, drawing a surprised moan from her. Aurelia's eyes fluttered shut, her fingers digging into his jacket. Sinclair chuckled.

"Even if she caught us, she couldn't do anything," he mocked, his voice sharp. "Dear Cassie is too uptight and cowardly. Sometimes I have to imagine you just to get hard enough to fuck her."

My fingers trembled, and a faint sting rose in my eyes. Was that how he saw me?

Aurelia let out a satisfied laugh. She rose on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him toward her.

Their lips crashed together, and they started kissing hungrily. Sinclair groaned into her mouth and pressed her harder against the wall, returning the kiss with equal intensity.

Every fiber of my being screamed at me to go over there and pull them apart, but my legs failed me. Maybe Sinclair was right. Cassandra Sterling was a coward.

My vision blurred with tears I refused to shed. Then Sinclair's voice pierced me like broken glass.

"Let's get out of here. I miss your little moans."

That was the last straw.

I ran like the coward I was. My head was a mess.

I wasn't even running in a straight line, and then-worst of all-my heel broke and I lost my balance.

My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a loud notification ping that echoed down the hallway.

I froze, my breath caught in my throat, terror flooding through me.

The ping from the phone nearly scared me to death. The cheaters' laughter cut off.

"Someone's there," Aurelia whispered, feigning surprise as if she hadn't seen me two minutes ago.

Footsteps were approaching.

Cassandra's POV

Before my heart could explode in my chest, I grabbed my phone, my broken heels, and bolted. I never knew it was possible to run so fast on a snapped heel.

Naturally, I tripped again. Every feeling I'd been holding back crashed into me all at once. A single tear tracked down my cheek as my throat tightened. I opened my mouth... but no sound came out. Not even a whimper.

Years together. Years planning our future. He had promised me. Fuck... why?

"No..." I finally whispered, shaking my head. "It can't be. I must have made a mistake. I must have misheard..."

"Get up, Cassandra!" my mind screamed.

Mustering whatever strength I had left, I forced myself up and stumbled toward the exit.

I had to get away from him before he saw how thoroughly he'd broken me.

I shoved the door open and spilled out into the hallway. My heart raced a mile a minute, as I was terrified of being caught. I knew I should have confronted them, but I couldn't let them watch me fall apart. Aurelia's triumphant smile was already burned into my brain.

When had I screwed up so badly? She was supposed to be my sweet little sister...

Out on the floor, the club was still total chaos. Someone slammed into my shoulder. I lost my balance, and my other heel gave out completely.

"Ah!" I cried out, pitching forward and falling face-first... right into a solid chest.

Right at that moment, the hallway door swung open behind me. I snapped to attention and threw my arms around the poor stranger as if my life depended on it.

"What the fuck are you doing?" my mind shrieked. Was I really using some random guy to stop myself from falling on my face? Wasn't Sinclair afraid of getting caught?

Thump. Thump. Slowly, my racing heart began to settle. My face was still buried in the stranger's chest. He smelled... fuck, he smelled incredible. An intoxicating blend of dark spices and wildflowers.

I had no business noticing his scent, but there I was, inhaling it like a crazy person. This was wrong. But so what? Did Sinclair care about what was wrong while he was screwing my sister? The stranger's cologne was expensive, but not like Sinclair's-the one that had always made my pulse race. This one was... calming. Like it could somehow soothe the violent trembling in my chest.

"Are you quite done smelling me? Your little 'problem' is gone," a deep, mocking voice rumbled above me, sending a shiver of goosebumps down my arms.

My breath hitched.

"... Bride-to-be," he added, the sneer practically audible in his tone.

I snapped my head around. The hallway door was still ajar. And right there stood Sinclair and Aurelia, just about to step out.

Shit!

I instantly shrank back against the stranger's chest. The bastard let out a low, deep chuckle that vibrated through my entire body. He was actually laughing at me, and every amused breath felt like a fresh stab wound to my pride.

But for some reason, that stupid laugh cleared my head just enough. I pinched his nipple hard through his shirt, desperate to wipe that smug look off his face. He let out a sharp "Fuck!" through gritted teeth.

A fleeting surge of triumph washed over me, and I shot him a fierce take that glare.

The club music died down for a split second. We locked eyes, and... my god. His eyes were so unreadable they looked like bottomless pits. I was completely mesmerized. Why did that suddenly make me think of Sinclair's dark blue eyes?

"They're gone. You can let go now," he murmured, shattering the spell.

I blinked and glanced back at the door. It was firmly shut, with no sign of the happy couple anywhere.

"Am I so handsome that you just can't bear to let go?" the arrogant jerk teased.

I scrunched my nose in disgust.

"In your dreams," I scoffed, quickly pulling away and clearing my throat to scrape back some composure. "Sorry about earlier. Um... I was in a bind. I'll make it up to you however you want, really."

He let out a dry, sarcastic chuckle.

"Make it up to me however I want? As if you could afford my damages."

"Look, I might not be the wealthiest heiress in the city, but I come from a good family, and my ex-fiancé is one of the most prominent heirs around."

His casual disdain stung me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. I had never seen this guy in my life, and I knew almost all the old money in this city. He was gorgeous, I'd give him that-late twenties at most. That left two options: either he was some famous model or singer, or he was one of the 'companions' who had accepted Rebecca's invitation to the club. With an attitude like that, he was one hundred percent the latter.

Sick of yet another man looking down his nose at me, I whipped out the black card Sinclair had given me.

"How much are you worth?" I demanded. "Because I highly doubt you're the most expensive guy in this club. I'll buy your whole night if I have to."

Yes, I was going to use that cheating bastard's money. It was the only petty revenge a coward like me could afford right now.

He snatched the card from my fingers with lightning speed. His gaze dropped to the surname Von Duvall embossed on the plastic, and a crooked smirk touched his lips.

"So, you think I'm a gigolo, and you're willing to buy me with this?"

"Max it out if you want. Then we're even," I fired back without a second thought.

A wicked gleam lit up his eyes.

"Are you sure? Once I swipe this, there's no going back."

I waved a dismissive hand.

"Do I look like I'm joking? The PIN is 1997. Help yourself out."

I stared him down without blinking.

"Deal." He smiled like the cat that ate the canary.

Perfect. Now it was time to get out of this dump, crawl into bed, and cry until I had no tears left over the fact that I hadn't smashed Sinclair's face in. We were supposed to get married tomorrow, and he had just fucked my little sister tonight. Just great.

Suddenly, the stranger clamped his hand around my wrist and started pulling me along.

"What the fuck are you doing? Is the money not enough for you?" I panicked, my mind flashing to kidnapping or worse.

He completely ignored me. He just dragged me up the stairs toward the quieter gallery bar area. No one stopped him, obviously.

He stopped dead in his tracks, and I slammed right into his back. Fuck, he was rock solid.

"What the hell-?" I started to protest.

"Two Mai Tais." He slid my card across the counter to the bartender and finally released my wrist.

"You've paid for my 'services', lady. Are you backing out now, 'bride-to-be'? Or are you just a scared little chick?" he taunted, flashing that shitty smirk.

"I am no chick," I shot back, annoyed.

"Is that what the girl who uses a stranger as a hiding spot says?" He was deliberately getting under my skin, and it was working.

The bartender set down two frosted glasses between us. The guy was fast. The stranger dropped onto a stool, slid one of the glasses toward me, and took a calm sip of his own.

I looked at the drink, then back at him. The dim bar lighting caught the sharp, perfect angle of his cheekbones.

He was tempting, the bastard.

"Dear Cassie is too stiff and cowardly. I'm the only one who would even want someone like her. Sometimes I have to imagine you just to get hard enough to fuck her."

Sinclair's cruel words drilled into my skull.

I wasn't a coward.

A wicked smile touched my lips. I sat down next to him, grabbed the glass, and downed the cocktail in one long gulp.

"My name is Cassandra. Not 'bride-to-be'," I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

And just like that, I did the craziest, most liberating thing of my entire life.

Fuck them both. Who was the coward now?

Alaric's POV

"My name is Cassandra, not 'Bride-to-Be'," she said, downing the rest of her Mai Tai in one defiant gulp.

I had to clench my jaw to keep from laughing in her face.

Where did this fiery little bride-to-be come from?

She slammed the glass onto the bar and shot me a defiant smile, as if finishing her drink was akin to winning an Olympic medal.

"Who's the chick now?" she challenged, trying to act tough, even though her hands trembled slightly and her eyes held a lost, almost shattered look.

It wasn't much, but it was a massive step forward. I didn't usually meddle in anyone's life-I was the most selfish guy I knew-but it wasn't every Friday I stumbled upon a bride-to-be looking like her sash and crown weighed a ton.

I was sure her bachelorette party was downstairs, and the most logical thing would have been to send her back to her friends... but tonight, I didn't feel like being alone either.

"Definitely not you, Cassandra," I replied, playing along, and gestured to the bartender for another round.

The poor bartender almost choked on his own spit trying to hold back a laugh. It wasn't every day the club's owner showed up entertaining a woman at the bar.

Cassandra blinked, already half-buzzed, as she stared at the fresh drink.

"I thought it was only one shot..." she murmured with a pout.

I took a slow sip of my own. The initial sweetness gave way to a sharp bite of rum that cleared my head.

"But we're just getting warmed up. The night is young, beautiful."

She was staring at me. When I caught her looking, she snapped her gaze away, as if making eye contact physically burned.

I studied her profile: long eyelashes fighting back tears, pink lips pouting... A tiny crease formed between her brows, like the drink was poison. That raw innocence was the sexiest thing I'd seen in a long time.

"I'm not good at holding my liquor," she finally confessed.

I let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh.

"What a shame... for you to spend a fortune on such a handsome gigolo yet waste the night."

The bartender coughed, his face flushing beet-red.

Cassandra's eyes widened as her brain processed the joke. Then a smile broke across her face-the kind that could completely disarm any man.

"You're right. I'm not going to waste the opportunity. Besides, it's my bachelorette party," she declared, grabbing the glass and downing it in one go.

I opened my mouth to tell her not to drink it so fast like that... and then closed it. Whatever. She should have fun.

I was barely halfway through my first, and she had just polished off her third. She slammed the empty glass down, her eyes already glassy, her liquid courage soaring.

"Now what?" she asked, looking like a kid waiting to open presents.

I polished off my drink.

"Care for some shots?"

She didn't use words; she just beamed as if she owned the world.

The night had truly just begun.

The bartender started lining up shots. Cassandra, now fearless, knocked them back one after another as if they were pineapple juice.

Her hands stopped shaking. Her laughter grew louder, ringing out as if we were the only two people in the room.

"I can't believe it!" she burst out, laughing at every piece of nonsense I spun to keep her entertained.

I never expected a girl like her to have so much nerve. There was something about her laughter that made everything seem lighter. She wasn't the type to trauma-dump when she got drunk. Instead, as the alcohol took the wheel, Cassandra simply forgot the drama entirely.

"Did you really let me con you out of all that money?" I asked, setting down the shot glass.

She pouted, waving a dismissive hand.

"I don't care about those money. Keep it."

She started singing-badly-to Ice Spice's "Did It First". She climbed up onto the barstool, then hopped down to the floor, dancing and belting out the lyrics at the top of her lungs.

The few people around watched her with a mix of amusement and shock. This wasn't the main dance floor downstairs, and dancing up here was strictly frowned upon... but who the hell was going to complain to the owner?

She kept spinning, laughing between verses. I didn't even realize I was smiling until she came running over, grabbed the front of my shirt, and hauled me out of my seat.

"You're not just going to stand there and watch, are you?!" She dragged me toward the center of the room.

I arched an eyebrow as the laughter from the onlookers grew louder. She ripped off her "Bride-to-Be" sash, tossed it onto the floor, and grabbed my collar, pulling me down to her eye level.

"Dance, handsome. I paid you, which means if I start running around naked, you run right after me. Understood?"

Somebody was suddenly feeling like the boss.

"Yes, ma'am. Your wish is my command," I replied, swallowing a laugh.

It was a good thing I didn't have two left feet.

With every song that played, she loosened up a little more. Eventually, I caught the eye of my security team and signaled them to clear the area so we could have the floor to ourselves.

Now, the space was entirely hers. A slow song came on, but her energy didn't dip. She grabbed my hand and placed it on her waist-so slender I felt like I might break her. I hesitated for a fraction of a second. I didn't want to pull her too close, afraid I might lose my legendary control.

Oblivious to my internal struggle, she pressed herself flush against me. Her soft curves molded to my chest. Then came her low, playful voice right against my ear.

"Now who's the chick?"

Damn. She had absolutely no idea what kind of fire she was stoking, or how intoxicating she smelled.

I kept smiling, even as I felt the undeniable hardening in my pants. I had officially dug my own grave.

She laughed again-until she felt my erection pressing against her. But instead of backing away scared, it only amused her more.

My lips could only twitch into a strained smile.

Then, just as suddenly, her laughter died. She snapped her gaze away and buried her face in my shirt. A violent shudder of pain ripped through her small frame. My chest tightened in response. Acting on pure instinct, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her tight, wanting nothing more than to protect her, even if just for tonight.

Her small hands bunched the dark fabric of my shirt into tight fists, her face hidden against my chest. We kept swaying to the music, but the playful energy had vanished, replaced by a heavy, suffocating sadness. She wasn't laughing anymore. Instead, tiny, muffled sobs broke from her lips-a sound that inexplicably twisted my heart.

She didn't stop swaying, and she didn't stop crying. Every little hiccup felt like a punch to my gut. I didn't have the right words, so I just held her and let her cry.

Eventually, she stirred. She lifted her head, looking up at me with big, tear-drenched eyes that nearly made my composure crumble.

She bit down hard on her lower lip.

"Am I so boring that no one would truly want to marry me?"

It wasn't just drunken rambling. She asked it like her entire world hinged on my answer.

I shook my head slowly, leaning down until my mouth was just a breath away from hers.

"You're a lot of things, sweetheart, but boring isn't one of them. Any man would drop to his knees to have you."

Her eyes lit up.

"Really?" she squealed, a sudden burst of excitement cutting through her tears.

I nodded without thinking.

In a flash, she launched herself at me, throwing her arms around my neck. She shoved me backward against the nearest wall and pressed her forehead flush against mine.

"Then give me your last name... or better yet, take mine. Do you want to be the lucky one?"

She was completely wasted and talking absolute nonsense, but damn if it didn't sound incredibly appealing.

A laugh tore from my throat, impossible to hold back. Could this girl be any more direct?

I reached up, gently wiping away her stray tears with my thumbs before cupping her face in my hands.

"If you like my last name so much..."

She beamed, and even with her mascara smudged and her eyes red from crying, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

"Don't back out now, darling. You just won a wife."

I was still reeling from how damn good the word "darling" sounded coming from her lips when something soft and warm crashed into my mouth, completely short-circuiting my brain.

It wasn't a sweet, gentle kiss. It was fierce and starving, like she wanted to devour me whole. Her fingers tangled in my hair, gripping hard as she yanked me even closer.

To hell with it all.

I had just found my newest addiction, and I had absolutely no intention of ever letting her go.