The Wrong Wife

The Wrong WifeAn Arranged Marriage RomanceMaya Alden Copyright © 2023 Maya Alden BooksAll rights reservedThe characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.ISBN-13: 9781234567890ISBN-10: 1477123456Cover design by: CanvaLibrary of Congress Control Number: 2018675309Printed in the United States of America "I have spread my dreams under your feet;Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."–William Butler Yeats"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."–A Midsummer Night’s Dream Contents Title PageCopyrightEpigraphChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Chapter 34Chapter 35Chapter 36Chapter 36Chapter 36Chapter 37Chapter 38Chapter 39Chapter 40Chapter 41Chapter 42Chapter 43Chapter 44Chapter 45Chapter 46Chapter 47EpilogueAbout The AuthorBooks In This Series Chapter 1DeclanI was marrying the wrong woman, I thought as I slid the wedding band on the ring finger of Esme Hartley in my cousin's chambers in the Beverly Hills Courthouse. She probably wanted a proper wedding, but I was too heartbroken to go through that.She was shorter than Viv, about five-two to Viv's five-eight and my six-two. She was curvier than Viv. Her hair wasn't blond and straight; it was black and wavy…a little out of control and messy. Her eyes were dark, not blue. She didn't wear much makeup, and I knew she wore glasses, which her mother had yanked off her nose as she entered the chambers. Judge Forest Knight was supposed to officiate Viv and my wedding, but instead, he was marrying me to my fiancée…no, ex-fiancée's stepsister. Viv was now someone else's wife. And I was someone else's husband; I reminded myself when Forest said we were husband and wife, and I could kiss the bride. She looked up and smiled as if trying to comfort me for being second best. I gave her a perfunctory kiss—a brush of my lips against hers.I had married a woman eleven years my junior—she was fucking twenty-three years old. Viv was a grown-up compared to Esme. She was twenty-nine and a high-powered lawyer at one of the most prestigious law firms in Los Angeles. Had Esme even graduated from university? What was she studying? I wasn't sure. I didn't know Esme. I knew she went to the University of Washington in Seattle. Viv had gone to Harvard, as had I. We were an Ivy League family, and here I was with someone who couldn't get into an Ivy despite her father's wealth and position. Not the sharpest pencil in the box, Viv had said about Esme. Then I shrugged it off. Now she was a noose around my neck. My mother was stiff; her parents were solicitous. My father was in Asia and sent me a thumbs-up emoji when I told him I was getting married to the wrong Hartley. No one was happy about this.I had no choice. The Hartley family business bylaws set up a couple of generations ago were clear. Mergers require marriage—to keep the business in the family. Who the fuck still did such archaic shit? I hadn't had a problem with it because I'd been in love with Viv—and she'd been in love with me. We had been friends for five years and dated for one. We had been engaged for six months, and the day before we were to be married, everything changed. Viv announced she'd fallen in love with some tech bro in San Francisco and had married him. She was, obviously, sorry, but there was nothing she could do about how she felt. She broke up with me through the Hartley family lawyer. We were going to have two weddings; one in private with Forest officiating to ensure that the merger was not delayed and six months later, a public one with all the pomp and show a Knight wedding demanded and deserved. Julien and Monica Hartley suggested I marry Esme to keep the merger going. I had said sure, why the hell not? So, on the day when I should have been marrying Viv, I was marrying Esme. I looked at the diminutive woman standing next to me with a champagne glass in her hand. Forest had opened several bottles of Dom Pérignon to celebrate the occasion. She looked happy. Well, why the fuck wouldn't she be. She was married to someone whom she would never have a chance with. Granted, her father's money would get her a decent match but not a Knight. She was a wallflower, far removed from the vibrant woman Viv was."Welcome to the family, Dec." Julien hugged me. He wasn't happy about this either—but guess what, he wasn't marrying a twit, which made him better off than me. "Yes, Dec, welcome," Monica added and hugged me. And I thought maybe Julien was not doing all that much better.Speaking of twits, Monica Hartley had the not-so-rare distinction of being a trophy wife. Esme had not managed to get her mother's looks—just her personality. Christ, talk about the wrong wife!"Take care of my little girl," she whispered. Her eyes were filled with tears. "Of course," I said, my smile tight. When we exited the courthouse, I was angrier than before the wedding ceremony. I was tired, and this woman was now my wife. A woman I had no interest in. We got into the back of the Escalade, and I immediately pushed the button to pull down the privacy screen. My driver knew where we were going."I'm going to drop you off," I told Esme. "I have to go into the office."She nodded and took her glasses off. She'd gotten them back from her mother right after the ceremony. I was confident the glasses