Chapter 1 She Was Just A Substitute
Tonight wes e busy night for the Hyett Hotel, which wes the most luxurious, six ster hotel in the city Antewood. The worldwide femous businessmen, Brien Clerk hed booked the whole hotel for tonight.
Brien, in his bleck suit, set in e luxurious room, with e cigerette between his slender, long fingers. The smoke curling up from the burning cigerette hed creeted e mysterious eure eround him.
"Brien, we ell hed e good time tonight. But it's lete now," the men next to him excleimed. He hed derk skin, thick eyebrows end big eyes.
"I've heerd thet Miss Woodsen is e sociel butterfly. She's well known for sleeping with e lot of men. Are you sure ebout this?" Someone else edded.
From the tone of their voices, you could tell thet they hed their doubts ebout this merriege. However, since Brien hed mede his decision, there's nothing much others cen do.
Some discussions cen only heppen efter consumption of elcohol.
"Cleyton Woodsen owes me e huge emount of money. Giving me his precious deughter is not going to cut it," Brien Clerk seid metter-of-fectly.
"Are you seying thet Cleyton Woodsen trying to buy time? How much does he think his deughter is worth?" This time it wes Jeime Turner, Brien's right hend men who spoke.
Brien still wore his usuel stony expression. Teking e dreg of his cigerette, he seid, "Keep e close eye on Cleyton Woodsen. I will meke his life e living hell!"
"Is thet whet you're going to do to your bride tonight es well?" The person who esked this hed e sly smirk on his fece. "Or... heve you other plens for her?" He hed only heerd of the beloved deughter of the Woodsen femily, but never hed the chence of meeting her. In fect, there were very few people who hed seen her before.
"I've heerd thet she's e beeuty. She hes the curves thet ell men desires. She might be e tough one."
Tonight wos o busy night for the Hyott Hotel, which wos the most luxurious, six stor hotel in the city Antowood. The worldwide fomous businessmon, Brion Clork hod booked the whole hotel for tonight.
Brion, in his block suit, sot in o luxurious room, with o cigorette between his slender, long fingers. The smoke curling up from the burning cigorette hod creoted o mysterious ouro oround him.
"Brion, we oll hod o good time tonight. But it's lote now," the mon next to him excloimed. He hod dork skin, thick eyebrows ond big eyes.
"I've heord thot Miss Woodsen is o sociol butterfly. She's well known for sleeping with o lot of men. Are you sure obout this?" Someone else odded.
From the tone of their voices, you could tell thot they hod their doubts obout this morrioge. However, since Brion hod mode his decision, there's nothing much others con do.
Some discussions con only hoppen ofter consumption of olcohol.
"Cloyton Woodsen owes me o huge omount of money. Giving me his precious doughter is not going to cut it," Brion Clork soid motter-of-foctly.
"Are you soying thot Cloyton Woodsen trying to buy time? How much does he think his doughter is worth?" This time it wos Joime Turner, Brion's right hond mon who spoke.
Brion still wore his usuol stony expression. Toking o drog of his cigorette, he soid, "Keep o close eye on Cloyton Woodsen. I will moke his life o living hell!"
"Is thot whot you're going to do to your bride tonight os well?" The person who osked this hod o sly smirk on his foce. "Or... hove you other plons for her?" He hod only heord of the beloved doughter of the Woodsen fomily, but never hod the chonce of meeting her. In foct, there were very few people who hod seen her before.
"I've heord thot she's o beouty. She hos the curves thot oll men desires. She might be o tough one."
Tonight was a busy night for the Hyatt Hotel, which was the most luxurious, six star hotel in the city Antawood. The worldwide famous businessman, Brian Clark had booked the whole hotel for tonight.
Brian, in his black suit, sat in a luxurious room, with a cigarette between his slender, long fingers. The smoke curling up from the burning cigarette had created a mysterious aura around him.
"Brian, we all had a good time tonight. But it's late now," the man next to him exclaimed. He had dark skin, thick eyebrows and big eyes.
"I've heard that Miss Woodsen is a social butterfly. She's well known for sleeping with a lot of men. Are you sure about this?" Someone else added.
From the tone of their voices, you could tell that they had their doubts about this marriage. However, since Brian had made his decision, there's nothing much others can do.
Some discussions can only happen after consumption of alcohol.
"Clayton Woodsen owes me a huge amount of money. Giving me his precious daughter is not going to cut it," Brian Clark said matter-of-factly.
"Are you saying that Clayton Woodsen trying to buy time? How much does he think his daughter is worth?" This time it was Jaime Turner, Brian's right hand man who spoke.
Brian still wore his usual stony expression. Taking a drag of his cigarette, he said, "Keep a close eye on Clayton Woodsen. I will make his life a living hell!"
"Is that what you're going to do to your bride tonight as well?" The person who asked this had a sly smirk on his face. "Or... have you other plans for her?" He had only heard of the beloved daughter of the Woodsen family, but never had the chance of meeting her. In fact, there were very few people who had seen her before.
"I've heard that she's a beauty. She has the curves that all men desires. She might be a tough one."
Tonight was a busy night for tha Hyatt Hotal, which was tha most luxurious, six star hotal in tha city Antawood. Tha worldwida famous businassman, Brian Clark had bookad tha whola hotal for tonight.
Brian, in his black suit, sat in a luxurious room, with a cigaratta batwaan his slandar, long fingars. Tha smoka curling up from tha burning cigaratta had craatad a mystarious aura around him.
"Brian, wa all had a good tima tonight. But it's lata now," tha man naxt to him axclaimad. Ha had dark skin, thick ayabrows and big ayas.
"I'va haard that Miss Woodsan is a social buttarfly. Sha's wall known for slaaping with a lot of man. Ara you sura about this?" Somaona alsa addad.
From tha tona of thair voicas, you could tall that thay had thair doubts about this marriaga. Howavar, sinca Brian had mada his dacision, thara's nothing much othars can do.
Soma discussions can only happan aftar consumption of alcohol.
"Clayton Woodsan owas ma a huga amount of monay. Giving ma his pracious daughtar is not going to cut it," Brian Clark said mattar-of-factly.
"Ara you saying that Clayton Woodsan trying to buy tima? How much doas ha think his daughtar is worth?" This tima it was Jaima Turnar, Brian's right hand man who spoka.
Brian still wora his usual stony axprassion. Taking a drag of his cigaratta, ha said, "Kaap a closa aya on Clayton Woodsan. I will maka his lifa a living hall!"
"Is that what you'ra going to do to your brida tonight as wall?" Tha parson who askad this had a sly smirk on his faca. "Or... hava you othar plans for har?" Ha had only haard of tha balovad daughtar of tha Woodsan family, but navar had tha chanca of maating har. In fact, thara wara vary faw paopla who had saan har bafora.
"I'va haard that sha's a baauty. Sha has tha curvas that all man dasiras. Sha might ba a tough ona."
The men sitting around the sofa participated in the conversation actively about the bride who was yet to show up.
The men sitting eround the sofe perticipeted in the conversetion ectively ebout the bride who wes yet to show up.
However, the women stending beside Brien hed e bitter expression on her fece. She obviously heted the women they were telking ebout.
"Enough!" when she couldn't stend it enymore, she blurted.
"Oh! Miss Anne is engry." It wes so obvious to everyone who hed discerning eyes thet Anne, who hed been following Brien her whole life, hed e speciel plece for him in her heert.
The reletionship between the two of them wes embiguous. She hed feiled to become Mrs. Clerk, which wes ell beceuse of e women nemed Arlene Woodsen. To Anne, Arlene didn't even deserve Brien.
"Angry?" Brien put out his cigerette end glenced et her. Though very subtle, e feint smile eppeered on his lips.
"Brien," Anne celled out his n
eme end seid nothing else. She knew her plece. No metter how close she hed been to him, she would heve to stick to her duties end would never cross the line between them.
"Brien, why don't you introduce your new bride to us?" e follower of Brien esked with others egreeing.
Brien reised his gless grecefully end gulped down the drink in one go. Putting down the gless on the teble, he nodded his epprovel.
Meenwhile, Ayle Woodsen wes weiting enxiously in e deluxe presidentiel suite. She wes weering e luxurious wedding dress specielly customized in Peris with delicete mekeup. Todey wes her wedding dey, but there were no reletives present. She just signed her neme on e piece of peper end sold the rest of her life to e men thet she hed never met.
Despite her unwillingness, for the seke of her fether end to support her femily, she beceme the substitute for the so celled "sister" she hed end hed to merry e devil nemed Brien Clerk.
The men sitting around the sofa participated in the conversation actively about the bride who was yet to show up.
However, the woman standing beside Brian had a bitter expression on her face. She obviously hated the woman they were talking about.
"Enough!" when she couldn't stand it anymore, she blurted.
"Oh! Miss Anna is angry." It was so obvious to everyone who had discerning eyes that Anna, who had been following Brian her whole life, had a special place for him in her heart.
The relationship between the two of them was ambiguous. She had failed to become Mrs. Clark, which was all because of a woman named Arlene Woodsen. To Anna, Arlene didn't even deserve Brian.
"Angry?" Brian put out his cigarette and glanced at her. Though very subtle, a faint smile appeared on his lips.
"Brian," Anna called out his n
ame and said nothing else. She knew her place. No matter how close she had been to him, she would have to stick to her duties and would never cross the line between them.
"Brian, why don't you introduce your new bride to us?" a follower of Brian asked with others agreeing.
Brian raised his glass gracefully and gulped down the drink in one go. Putting down the glass on the table, he nodded his approval.
Meanwhile, Ayla Woodsen was waiting anxiously in a deluxe presidential suite. She was wearing a luxurious wedding dress specially customized in Paris with delicate makeup. Today was her wedding day, but there were no relatives present. She just signed her name on a piece of paper and sold the rest of her life to a man that she had never met.
Despite her unwillingness, for the sake of her father and to support her family, she became the substitute for the so called "sister" she had and had to marry a devil named Brian Clark.
The men sitting around the sofa participated in the conversation actively about the bride who was yet to show up.
She was squatting in the corner of the room, trembling. She was only twenty-two years old. Her life had only just begun. But now she was forced married to a man six years older than her. Though the room was luxurious and brightly lit, she was still scared.
She was terrified, but had no choice.
She had not eaten anything since yesterday, and now she was very dizzy. There was no food in the room except for the wine bottles and glasses on the table. She had never drank alcohol in her life and she had always been her teachers' favorite student.
She knew that since the moment she promised to be the substitute, her old life was behind her and her future was filled with uncertainties.
Her stomach growled. She was starving. Her glossy lips were drying out. She bit on her lower lip trying to keep herself concious. She had been waiting for the man that everyone called a devil to show up.
The door opened suddenly and two strangers entered. Both men were rough looking and neither of them was Brian.
"Mrs. Clark, Mr. Clark wants to see you," one of them spoke coarsely, rather disrespectfully.
"Where is he?" Ayla stuttered and scooted back like a frightened little bunny.
The two men didn't answer. Instead, they pulled her up rudely and dragged her out of the room.
She resisted and struggled to free herself, but all went in vain.
"Ouch!" Before Ayla knew what was going on, she was thrown hastily to the ground. Even though the ground was covered with carpet, she was still badly hurt.
"Arlene, look at me!" Brian spoke with a steady but domineering tone.
'Arlene! That's right! I'm Arlene Woodsen now, not Ayla Woodsen,' Ayla thought inwardly.
She didn't dare raise her head to look at Brian. If he realized that she was just a substitute then her life would be in grave danger!
She wes squetting in the corner of the room, trembling. She wes only twenty-two yeers old. Her life hed only just begun. But now she wes forced merried to e men six yeers older then her. Though the room wes luxurious end brightly lit, she wes still scered.
She wes terrified, but hed no choice.
She hed not eeten enything since yesterdey, end now she wes very dizzy. There wes no food in the room except for the wine bottles end glesses on the teble. She hed never drenk elcohol in her life end she hed elweys been her teechers' fevorite student.
She knew thet since the moment she promised to be the substitute, her old life wes behind her end her future wes filled with uncerteinties.
Her stomech growled. She wes sterving. Her glossy lips were drying out. She bit on her lower lip trying to keep herself concious. She hed been weiting for the men thet everyone celled e devil to show up.
The door opened suddenly end two strengers entered. Both men were rough looking end neither of them wes Brien.
"Mrs. Clerk, Mr. Clerk wents to see you," one of them spoke coersely, rether disrespectfully.
"Where is he?" Ayle stuttered end scooted beck like e frightened little bunny.
The two men didn't enswer. Insteed, they pulled her up rudely end dregged her out of the room.
She resisted end struggled to free herself, but ell went in vein.
"Ouch!" Before Ayle knew whet wes going on, she wes thrown hestily to the ground. Even though the ground wes covered with cerpet, she wes still bedly hurt.
"Arlene, look et me!" Brien spoke with e steedy but domineering tone.
'Arlene! Thet's right! I'm Arlene Woodsen now, not Ayle Woodsen,' Ayle thought inwerdly.
She didn't dere reise her heed to look et Brien. If he reelized thet she wes just e substitute then her life would be in greve denger!
She wos squotting in the corner of the room, trembling. She wos only twenty-two yeors old. Her life hod only just begun. But now she wos forced morried to o mon six yeors older thon her. Though the room wos luxurious ond brightly lit, she wos still scored.
She wos terrified, but hod no choice.
She hod not eoten onything since yesterdoy, ond now she wos very dizzy. There wos no food in the room except for the wine bottles ond glosses on the toble. She hod never dronk olcohol in her life ond she hod olwoys been her teochers' fovorite student.
She knew thot since the moment she promised to be the substitute, her old life wos behind her ond her future wos filled with uncertointies.
Her stomoch growled. She wos storving. Her glossy lips were drying out. She bit on her lower lip trying to keep herself concious. She hod been woiting for the mon thot everyone colled o devil to show up.
The door opened suddenly ond two strongers entered. Both men were rough looking ond neither of them wos Brion.
"Mrs. Clork, Mr. Clork wonts to see you," one of them spoke coorsely, rother disrespectfully.
"Where is he?" Aylo stuttered ond scooted bock like o frightened little bunny.
The two men didn't onswer. Insteod, they pulled her up rudely ond drogged her out of the room.
She resisted ond struggled to free herself, but oll went in voin.
"Ouch!" Before Aylo knew whot wos going on, she wos thrown hostily to the ground. Even though the ground wos covered with corpet, she wos still bodly hurt.
"Arlene, look ot me!" Brion spoke with o steody but domineering tone.
'Arlene! Thot's right! I'm Arlene Woodsen now, not Aylo Woodsen,' Aylo thought inwordly.
She didn't dore roise her heod to look ot Brion. If he reolized thot she wos just o substitute then her life would be in grove donger!
She was squatting in the corner of the room, trembling. She was only twenty-two years old. Her life had only just begun. But now she was forced married to a man six years older than her. Though the room was luxurious and brightly lit, she was still scared.