The Wrong Bride: Chapter 40

I smile at my phone as I type out the message accompanying the wedding photo I’m about to post. This is the one thing I never thought I’d get to have with Ares, but it’s something I’ve always wanted.

Something has changed between us ever since we got married. There used to be an invisible barrier between us, but it disappeared the moment I walked down that aisle.

This version of him is the one I fell for, so many years ago. He finally feels within reach, and there’s no way I’m letting this chance pass me by. I love my sister with all my heart, but I won’t sacrifice another moment of my own happiness for her — not when she had it all and chose to walk away.

I’m grinning to myself as I post the picture seconds after Ares’s announcement goes live. I picked a photo of Ares kissing me on our wedding day, and I have no doubt it’ll go viral in no time. Perhaps it’s playing dirty, a way of increasing the distance between Hannah and him, but I don’t care. I’m done putting others above myself.

Seconds later, the door to my dressing room opens with such force that it slams into the wall, and my agent storms in with a distraught expression on his face. “What the fuck is this?” John asks, his tone panicked. He holds his phone up, showing me the photo I just posted. “You fucking got married? Married? To Ares Windsor? You got married to the biggest media mogul in the country and you didn’t even tell me? What the fuck, Rave?”

I should’ve anticipated his reaction, but I’ve been in a daze in the last couple of weeks, not wanting to step out of the bubble Ares and I were in, too scared I’d wake up and realize it was all a dream.

“Surprise?”

John glares at me, his bright blue eyes flashing with anger and hurt. It hits me straight in the chest, and remorse washes away my nonchalance.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “It’s not that I didn’t want to invite you,” I promise him. “It’s just that the guest list was kept incredibly small. Our families are old friends, and well, my mother curated the guest list on my behalf. I’ve been so busy with work that I… I’m sorry.”

He looks away and shakes his head. “I get it.” His tone is in contrast with his words.

How am I supposed to explain that I would have invited him if it had been my wedding?

“But I didn’t even know you were dating him, Raven. How did that happen? How and why did you hide a relationship with Ares Windsor, of all people?”

This is exactly what I was afraid of. Those that know me well enough to know I’ve been single for a long time.

I’m spared from having to answer when the door to my dressing room opens. A soft gasp escapes my lips when Ares walks in, surrounded by six bodyguards.

“Raven,” he says, walking up to me. His hands wrap around my waist, and he pulls me into him, his lips finding mine. He kisses me as though it’s just me and him in this room, taking his time, teasing me until I’m breathless. Then he drops his forehead to mine and inhales deeply. “I love the photo you posted,” he murmurs. “I thought you’d pick a general photo of us, or perhaps something from recent years, but there was no ambiguity.”

I lean back in his arms to look at him, pure love spreading from my heart. “I’m proud to be your wife,” I whisper. “Why wouldn’t I want to show you off?”

He leans in, his lips brushing over my ear. “You made my day,” he murmurs. “I’ll have to reward you later.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I pull away from him a little, suddenly self-conscious. It takes me a moment to realize that Ares’s bodyguards have their backs turned to us, but John is staring at us with an expression I can’t quite decipher.

Ares takes a step away from me and wraps his hand around my shoulder as he extends his free hand toward John. “I’ve seen you around, but we’ve never formally met. I’m Ares Windsor, Raven’s husband.”

The two men shake hands, and something about the way John stares at Ares doesn’t sit well with me. Normally, people in the industry are overly happy to meet him, but John doesn’t seem to be.

“I’m also your new boss,” he says as he pulls his hand away. “Since this agency is such a good fit for my organisation, I bought it.”

I look up at him in shock. “You what?”

Ares shrugs and leans in. “I thought it would be good for us to own the company you work for. You can have it, if you want. I’ll sign it over to you, on two conditions.”

“What conditions?”

He smiles and brushes his lip over my ear. “No more campaigns with other men, and you’re no longer allowed to overwork yourself.”

I stare at him in disbelief, my lips falling open. “Did you buy my entire modeling agency because you don’t like me shooting with men?”

Ares raises his brows. “So what if I did? I’m your husband. The only hands allowed on your body are mine. I couldn’t ask you to breach any of your existing contracts, so I bought the company and canceled every single contract that required you to be even remotely intimate with another man.”

“The penalty to terminate any of my contracts is millions, Ares. Are you insane?”

He pauses for a moment and smiles. “My love, I don’t think you quite realize that your wedding ring is worth more than the penalty I paid. And either way, it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing I won’t do for you.”

John clears his throat, and we both tense as we’re suddenly reminded of his presence. “Mr. Windsor,” he says, his tone terse. “Raven has a shoot in a couple of minutes. We’ll need to head out now.”

Ares tightens his grip on me and shakes his head. “It’s canceled. I’m taking her home.” He turns to me and smiles apologetically. “The media have already swarmed this building, my love.” Ares tips his head toward the bodyguard behind him. “They’re going to get us home safely. Once we get through the gates of the Windsor estate, we’ll be in the clear. Until then, we’ll need them.” He pauses for a moment. “The next couple of weeks are going to be tough as the media tries to find out as much as they can about us. We’ll both be forced into the spotlight in a way we never have been before. Windsor Media is monitoring all news coverage about us, and I’ve got my legal team ready to jump in if need be.”

I nod and smile at him. “Don’t worry. I’m used to dealing with the press,” I tell him, even as genuine dread fills by body. I’ve been lucky so far, flying just below the radar on most days, but as the new Mrs. Windsor, those quiet days are most certainly gone.