The Substitute Bride: Doted by My Billionaire Husband by Sumpto Midway

Chapter 2: The Newlywed Husband

Monica, a popular actress in her youth, maintained her youthful beauty even after having two daughters. She was a mistress who skillfully ousted the legitimate wife and rose to become matriarch of the Hart family. Monica orchestrated a lavish wedding, even having Olive's wedding dress custom-made in Paris at great expense. Everyone praised her efforts.

Olive, feigning ignorance, looked expectantly through the door. "Why isn't the groom here?"

Monica's expression immediately changed. A wave of shocked whispers rippled through the guests. Questioning glances exchanged among them revealed unspoken concern: "Isn't she aware she's marrying a sick man?"

Patrick stepped forward, looking slightly guilty and evasive. "Olive, the groom isn't feeling well. He can't come, but you'll meet him afterward."

An obedient smile touched her lips. "Okay, Dad. I should be heading to meet him."

Patrick led Olive to a luxury G-Wagon parked in the hotel garage. She waved goodbye as the car sped away. The guests, sympathetic to Olive's unwitting situation, murmured sarcastic comments directed at Monica. Despite her stunning appearance, Monica was a stepmother who had arranged for another woman's child to marry a sick man.

Monica's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The wedding had been under her control, yet Olive's question threatened to derail her plans. Monica dismissed it, confident in her ability to retaliate later.

Olive arrived at the Red Villa and was shown to her room. The unlit room was dark and cold. Her dark eyes gleamed with alertness. She approached the bed and saw a man lying there.

This must be my new husband!

Reaching to check his pulse, she extended a finger, but thin fingers instantly clasped her waist. The world seemed to spin before he was on top of her.

Olive was stunned. She'd been told her husband was ill, yet the strong grip on her waist clearly belonged to a healthy man. "Who are you?"

She quickly pressed against his groin, but he easily evaded her, pinning her with a swift countermove. He was quick, precise, and ruthless.

"Who are you? Let me go!" she struggled as their bodies pressed together through the thin fabric.

"The bride is enthusiastic. Do you want to have sex?" a deep, magnetic voice rumbled.

Degenerate!

Olive considered the possibility that this man was, in fact, her husband. His fingers were already on her dress zipper, slowly unzipping it.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, grabbing his hands.

"Just moan. Can you do that?"

Moan?

Suddenly, Olive overheard a maid whispering outside the door to Old Madam Samantha. "Madam, this isn't good. We should go back"

"Shh," the old woman hissed. "I'll listen with my ears, not my eyes!"

Olive tried to see what was happening, but Elvis pressed her shoulder, pushing her back. "Hurry up and—"

Olive realized he was putting on a show for the old lady and needed her cooperation.

"I can't do that."

Elvis looked at the twenty-year-old girl, her eyes shy and reserved. He removed her dress.

Olive felt a chill as she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Can you moan now?" Elvis asked, his tone calmer. He trapped her, initiating intimate movements. Their activities shook the large bed in the dark room.

"Continue to yell, or I'll be serious," he threatened in a low voice. Olive shivered, believing him. She closed her eyes and moaned as instructed.

Outside, Old Mrs. Samantha clasped her hands, murmuring, "Great! My grandson is neither gay nor incompetent. He had sex! Creator bless me! I'm going to have a great-grandson!" She danced with joy and hurried off to say her rosary.

Olive quickly pushed Elvis away. He cooperated, releasing her. With a flick of a switch, he illuminated the room.

Olive sat up, zipping her dress, covering her shoulders and chest. She looked at the man, now out of bed, his handsome features fully visible.

But admiration was short-lived. Her eyes widened in shock. "It's you!"

He was the man from the train! Her new husband!

Olive had prepared for a sick husband, but never expected him. She remembered her angry outburst on the train, claiming to be the bride marrying into the Red Villa. She imagined him inwardly laughing at her threats.

Elvis's lips curved into a smile. "You recognized me. I did say we'd meet again." A playful glint shone in his eyes. He'd been informed the Harts were giving their neglected daughter away in marriage. He only wanted to marry to please his grandmother, but he was impressed by the unexpected bride, especially after their train encounter.