Billionaire's Choice

6 - Who Is He?

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the veil for the hundredth time. The dress fit perfectly, of course, nothing less was expected when the Deveraux family was footing the bill. There wasn’t a single flaw in the arrangements. It was all flawless. Too flawless for a marriage that didn’t feel real.

I barely knew Gabriel. Sure, I knew his reputation; cold, ruthless, and every bit the businessman his family had raised him to be. But as a husband? That was laughable. This wasn’t about love, after all.

The knock on the door came right on schedule. “It’s time,” a female maid said.

Time to become Mrs. Deveraux. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Grandma Helen’s plea still echoed in my mind: “You’re the only one who can save this family, Aria.”

As I sat in the backseat of the sleek black maybach with Gabriel beside me, the memory hit me like a wave. It wasn’t something I thought about often, but today, on the day I was marrying into this whirlwind of a family, I couldn’t help but replay it in my mind.

That day had been one of the worst of my life. I had just come out of the hospital, clutching a crumpled piece of paper with my father’s death certificate. The weight of grief was suffocating, but I’d forced myself to go to the store to pick up the basics I’d need for the next few days. Even in the midst of loss, life had to go on.

I had been walking through the parking lot when I saw an elderly mixed race woman slumped over in her car, her face pale and her breaths shallow. My instincts took over. The grief, the pain, it all took a backseat as I ran to her side.

“Ma’am, can you hear me?” I had asked, my voice trembling as I dialed 911.

Her eyes fluttered open for a second, just long enough for me to see the panic in them. I didn’t hesitate. I waved down a bystander and begged them to help me carry her out of the car. My hands trembled as I kept her steady, talking to her, trying to keep her conscious until the ambulance arrived.

By the time they got there, my clothes were stained with sweat and her faint murmurs had gone silent. I followed the paramedics to the hospital, refusing to leave until I was sure she’d be taken care of.

I never expected anything in return for helping her; it wasn’t about that. It was just the right thing to do. I had dropped my name for the nurse and told them my situation and I left. And now, years later, here I was. Marrying her grandson.

I didn’t want to do this. I really didn’t. But the thing is, I couldn’t walk away. Not after everything.

My brother and my aunt, the two people I had left, had advised me to go on with it. Grandma Helen’s plea was hard to ignore. I saw the desperation in her eyes when she begged me to marry Gabriel. She was old, frail, and not getting any younger. She wanted this done, and I could tell that it wasn’t just for her, she truly believed it was meant to be. She saw something in me that I didn't see in myself.

When she offered me the inheritance and the company, it wasn’t just about money. It was about rebuilding everything I lost. I had my business once, but it crumbled the same way everything else did. My partner: my best friend, gambled away everything. And when she ran off, I was left with nothing but debt, including the one I owed to the Deveraux family. I had no one to turn to, no way to fix things.

Then Grandma offered a solution. She promised the debts would be wiped clean if I went through with this marriage. It was like she handed me a lifeline, something I couldn’t ignore. I wasn’t doing this for Gabriel, and certainly not for me. I was doing it for the chance to restart, to pick up the pieces of my life and try again.

And yeah, I’ll admit, a part of me was intrigued by the idea of having a share in the company. Gabriel was hard to ignore, and the idea of working alongside him, even if it was in a marriage I didn’t want, was something I couldn’t pass up.

I never imagined I’d end up standing in front of Gabriel, in a wedding dress that felt more like a costume than anything real. But here I am. Still wondering if I made the right choice.

The car stops, and I’m supposed to get out. Gabriel’s hand reaches out to me, gripping mine tightly, his touch cold. For a moment, I forget where I am, what I’m doing. It’s strange, how just his touch can make everything feel so complicated.

I step out of the car, following him as we walk toward the entrance. The staff greets us with polite smiles, but Gabriel doesn’t even seem to notice them. He’s focused, like he’s already thinking about the next business deal, not the wedding happening right now.

I look around, trying to distract myself. The place is beautiful, chandeliers, flowers, people chatting and laughing. But none of it feels real. This isn’t my life. This isn’t what I imagined for myself.

We walk inside, and Gabriel stops for a second. His hand tightens around my arm. “Stay close,” he says. It’s not a request. It’s a command.

I don’t say anything. I don’t argue. I just nod and keep walking beside him. My heart’s racing, but I’m doing this.

As the ceremony continued, my heart was racing. I was standing there beside Gabriel, ready to say my vows, but a part of me was still unsure. Was this the right thing to do? The whole thing felt unreal. And yet, here I was.

But just as the officiant began speaking, the doors at the back of the room creaked open. A figure stepped inside, and my eyes were immediately drawn to him. He was tall, built like a man who was used to getting what he wanted, and his dark suit fit him perfectly. But it wasn’t his appearance that made my stomach tighten, it was the look on his face. He was furious.