Caught In The Wrong Marriage With My Mr. Right

"But your marriage had already been recorded! What were you doing here? Attempting a second marriage while the first was still valid was illegal!"

Alina Dumas left the courthouse in a daze, her fingers gripping a marriage certificate that was still fresh. The man beside her—hired to pose as her husband for just one day—stepped back, as if reality had finally hit him. He stared at her, his mouth slightly open. "You're already married? Why hire me for a fake ceremony, then?" He snatched up his coat and let out an irritated sigh. "The deposit isn't refundable. Farewell." With that, he disappeared.

Alina stood rooted to the spot. Married? Her? She had never even dated anyone, much less thought about a serious commitment. She lowered her eyes to the paper, the official document trembling between her fingers. There she was in the photograph—a forced smile, an awkward look, and that small beauty mark at the corner of her eye, leaving no room for doubt. It was definitely her. But the man beside her... His face was unfamiliar. He had sharp features, a long nose, thin lips, and eyes so deep they seemed to burn right through the image, warning her in silence. Beneath the photo, a name was printed: Nohan Leroux.

She had never heard of him.

The budding panic quickly hardened into determination. Alina took a photo of the marriage certificate and sent it through WhatsApp to an anonymous contact—a simple black avatar, no name attached—with a message: "Find out who this is." The reply came almost instantly: "Received."

She put away her phone, climbed onto her old electric scooter, and made her way toward the family home in an upscale neighborhood, her heart pounding in her chest. That day, her half-sister Maïa was celebrating her engagement. The property sparkled with luxurious decorations. Servants hurried about, and temporary workers busied themselves at the entrance.

She had barely gotten off her scooter before the whispers began.

"Who is this beauty?"

"Quiet. She was the illegitimate child the master never acknowledged."

"Her mother had been the lover. She had arrived pregnant, while Mrs. Dumas was already about to give birth. They had delivered on the same day, in the same house. A scandal."

"She knows her place. After leaving for boarding school, she had rarely come back. So why had she returned today?"

Alina swallowed her pride, kept her head down, and crossed the hall. Her mother, Line, waited at the door. Elegant but visibly tense. She took Alina by the arm. "Come upstairs with me to see your sister. Did you receive the marriage certificate?"

Alina answered in a neutral voice, "Yes." It was the truth, even if the man named on the certificate had nothing to do with the one originally intended.

"Perfect. Don't forget who you are. Ayden Leroux is promised to Maïa. He comes from noble blood, and he would never belong to a woman like you. Only Maïa could marry him."

A cold glint flashed in Alina's eyes. Ayden Leroux... The same man who had pursued her for four years in college, only to propose to Maïa on the day they graduated. As soon as Line had learned of it, she had forced Alina to marry a stranger, hoping to erase any trace of a connection between her and Ayden.

It had always been this way. Whenever a choice had to be made between her and Maïa, Line had crushed her without a second thought. She was the hidden daughter, the family's living shame. Alina had been taught to stay quiet. But today...

She clenched her teeth. "We agreed this would be the last time."

Line pressed her lips together, clearly annoyed. "Fine."

They walked into Maïa's room. The young woman, radiant in her designer dress, sat like a queen, surrounded by precious jewels. Alina, dressed modestly, held her head high. Maïa smiled. "Alina? What a surprise."

Before Alina could answer, Line cut in. "Your sister got married today."

Maïa's eyes widened. "Already? Who's the lucky one? Is he better than Ayden?"

Line burst out laughing. "Of course not. No one could compare to Ayden. Alina's husband was a complete failure, not even brave enough to show his face. He must have been too ashamed."

Maïa frowned. "Still, Alina was pretty. Ayden used to like her back then."

"Pretty or not, a worn shoe could only end up with a ragged sock. An illegitimate daughter would only marry someone society had already cast aside. Ayden was just toying with her, nothing more. Only you, Maïa, could ever be his equal."

Alina's brow furrowed. The man on that certificate, Nohan Leroux, hardly seemed like a loser. Something didn't add up. But she kept silent. Not now.

Maïa had been picking out her jewelry. Her dress was so tight she couldn't bend over. She smiled at Alina. Without a hint of hesitation, Line ordered, "Help your sister with her shoes."

Alina froze. It was always the same story. She was always treated like a servant. She lifted her head, her gaze steady and stern. "You can do it yourself."

Line exploded. "Alina Dumas! Who do you think you are? Do you really believe you matter just because you married some worthless freeloader?"