My Wedding To A Secret Billionaire

“It’s getting late. Go to bed.” The man’s deep, husky voice pulled Cordelia Jenner out of her reverie abruptly. When she looked up and met his deep eyes, there was an emotion that she could not decipher in them. She clung to the hem of her dress nervously and could not help feeling the pace of her heartbeat picking up. Since she had entered the room, she had been sitting by the edge of the bed. She had stayed in the position for so long that her back was numb from being so tense and straight. She had not even changed out of her wedding dress. It was not until the man had taken a shower and exited the bathroom that realization had struck her. She was going to spend the night with this man as a newlywed. However, she had no idea how to interact with him. What was more, she had gotten married as a substitute. She was the illegitimate daughter of a rich family, so she had married this broke man in place of her elder sister—just to fulfill a marriage pact made by the last generation of the two families and receive a substantial amount of money. Cordelia knew that her mother would only get treatment and her younger brother would only continue studying with that sum of money. It was how their family would be able to survive. She took a deep breath and inched toward the bathroom like a frightened bunny. “I… I’ll take a shower too.” The man’s gaze darkened. Cordelia darted into the bathroom. Just as she was about to lock the door, she discovered that the run-down wooden door did not even have anything that resembled a lock. This made her enter a daze. No matter how bad life had been in the past, she had not been this impoverished. Her eyes went red around the rims as she stood there, hesitating in the bathroom and not taking off anything. The man outside the door seemed to read her mind, as he suddenly informed her, “I’ll have a smoke outside. Take your time.” Cordelia tensed up. Putting her ear against the door, she heard the man’s footsteps going farther away and the door creaking before she heard nothing else. The bright décor on the peeling wall looked withered. A typhoon had ransacked the city a day before the wedding, so broken billboards and snapped trees were everywhere along the roads. Cordelia had gotten married amidst a disaster. There had been no decked-out wedding car to pick her up. She had walked a long way before getting into an inconspicuous van and spending more time than she could keep track of to reach the village. The muddy road had soiled her shoes and wedding dress. The elders had always said that people who got married in weather like this would not end up happy, but Cordelia had long given up on her own happiness. She came out of the bathroom, patting her hair dry. Her husband was not back yet. It seemed that he really took his time smoking. Cordelia looked at the two-room cottage, where rain leaked in through some spots. The place was pretty bad, but it would make a cozy home with some cleaning up. She smiled and started simply tidying up around the house before the man came back. When she was on her knees pulling the sheets off the bed, the man walked in. Cordelia turned back—a big move—and the only thing she had on her, her towel, slipped off. Gasping, she wrapped her arms around herself instinctively, but the man had already seen everything. Cordelia frantically tugged at the sheets to cover herself, blushing as red as a tomato. The man swallowed, and his gaze grew darker and harder to read. He strode over to her, his deep, impassive voice a little husky and tempting. “It’s getting late. Let’s go to bed.” He emphasized the word “let’s” this time. Cordelia’s heart was very close to leaping out of her throat. With her eyes shut tight, she suddenly felt a strong force wrap around her waist and then fell into the man’s arms before getting pinned against the bed… Cordelia’s mind went blank. She felt a warm chest press against her back. She could even hear strong, rhythmic heartbeats. The man above her kept her securely within his arms, and she tried taking a deep breath but still could not stretch out her frozen limbs. The man stopped abruptly. “Do you know who I am?” Cordelia paused. The man wanted to say that he was her husband and this was their wedding night. It was more than justified for them to do this as husband and wife. In spite of this, Cordelia took his question literally and timidly answered, “I do… You’re Marcus Grist.” The man squinted and gave her a light smirk. Marcus Grist… Hah, should he be glad that she knew the name? It was too bad that he was not Marcus Grist—and she was not Yelena Jenner. From the moment she had stepped through the door, he had been able to tell that she was only a substitute. He did not know why, but the temper of the Jenner heiress would never allow her to marry a countryside villager. It was fine, though. She was a stand-in bride, and he was marrying her by pretending to be another man. It was a fair deal. “Marcus…” That snapped the man out of his thoughts. As soon as he looked down, he met her shiny eyes. The girl’s soft, shy expression felt like a hand clutching something at the bottom of his heart. “I’m sorry, I’m too nervous.” Cordelia bit her lip and tried to hook her arms around his neck. “You’re my husband. There’s nothing wrong with you doing anything to me… W-We can start.” Tiny beads of sweat dotted the tip of her dainty nose. She inched closer to him clumsily but she was shaking like a leaf. Marcus’ heart jolted. Just when Cordelia was about to kiss his lips, despite being clueless about what she was doing, he suddenly held her hand and put some distance between them. Cordelia was stunned. Her blush was still evident on her cheeks as her eyes brimmed with confusion. “Forget it,” he said, looking at her. “You’re tired today as well. Let’s sleep early.” “Marcus, I—” “I think you need some time to adjust. Until you’re adjusted to having a husband, I won’t put you in a tough spot,” he said before he turned away. Cordelia was in a trance while watching his naked back. Then, when the man’s light snores filled the room, she studied him carefully. He was handsome when he was asleep. His profile was sculpted, and his straight brows were manly. His muscled arm was cushioned under his head, and his chiseled body made Cordelia pink in the ears. Cordelia felt her heart skip a beat and quickly turned away. Sleep soon muddled her consciousness, and her mind was filled with her stepmother and Yelena’s mockery before her wedding. They had told her that the Grists were family friends with them and there was truly a marriage pact. However, the Grists had been hiding in the countryside village since their fall and had not been doing well. The Grist son was a useless, infamous thug and was said to frequent the police station… “How could I possibly get married to a thug?” Yelena had huffed. “You’d do better. Your mother’s been with countless men anyway, and your brother’s a b*stard! “Someone like you only deserves a thug!” “Cordelia, think about it,” Cordelia’s father had said coldly. “I’ll give you some money as long as you marry Marcus Grist in Yelena’s place, and you’ll be able to treat your mother.” Cordelia’s stepmother had insulted her. “It’s an honor for you to marry someone as the second heiress of the Jenners, you little wh*re! Don’t be ungrateful!” Cordelia woke up with a startle, discovering that the sun had long risen and the man next to her was nowhere to be seen.