I Married The Old Billionaire For My Sister

On the eve of my wedding, my adopted sister was set to marry into the wealthiest bloodline in Manhattan, the Blackwood family.

Victor Blackwood possessed a net worth in the billions. He was also seventy six years old.

My fianc could not bear the thought of my fragile sister marrying a man with one foot in the grave. That very night, he rushed over to our estate to propose to her instead.

The following day, on what was supposed to be my wedding day, I stood completely alone in my bridal gown, thanking the guests who were awkwardly filtering out of the venue.

Unexpectedly, an elderly man leaning on a silver tipped cane hobbled toward me. He reached into his coat and placed a priceless, flawless emerald signet ring on the table.

"Miss Sinclair, your fianc stole my bride. I need you to take her place. What do you say?"

I gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Shall we get married right now? The venue is still booked."

Victor chuckled, stroking his chin. "There is no rush."

He evaluated the cheap, tacky wedding setup around us. The tip of his cane poked lightly at the hem of my dress, tearing a small hole through the cheap fabric. My dress was already fraying at the seams. I had worn it for half the day, and the imitation rhinestones were scattering across the floor like cheap confetti.

I should have known Oliver Prescott never truly intended to give me a proper wedding.

Victor's expression darkened. "Miss Sinclair, the Blackwood family prides itself on absolute grandeur. We will certainly not hold a ceremony in a third rate venue like this."

He turned slightly. A butler stepped out from the shadows and immediately handed me a heavy, crimson velvet invitation.

"One week from now. The most exclusive hotel in the city. The guest list is already prepared, and your gown will be custom haute couture. How does that sound?"

I offered a faint smile. "Whatever you say, Mr. Blackwood."

Not long after Victor departed, Oliver finally showed up.

I gripped the cold emerald ring tightly in my palm and barely glanced at him. "My apologies, Mr. Prescott. The wedding has been canceled."

Knowing he was entirely in the wrong, Oliver lowered his voice, trying to sound soothing. "Violet, please do not be angry."

"Sophie suffers from severe depression. Old man Blackwood is seventy six years old. If she marries into that house, the stress will literally kill her."

"She relies on me so much. I absolutely could not stand by and watch her throw her life away to an old man."

"So you decided to sacrifice me instead?" I looked at him, finding his twisted logic almost comical. "Did you ever stop to think about how I was supposed to face the absolute humiliation of standing at the altar alone today?"

Oliver furrowed his brows. "I thought you would be understanding..."

He took a step closer, his tone softening into a patronizing whisper. "We have been together for years. Do you really have the heart to make things this difficult for me?"

"Sophie is just a fragile young girl. She is weaker than you. She cannot handle being hurt."

I let out a cold, bitter laugh. "So your fiance can be publicly abandoned and humiliated, but Sophie cannot suffer even the slightest inconvenience?"

Oliver's face hardened. "Violet, do not twist my words."

"You know Sophie is a clinical patient. If she has a mental breakdown and does something drastic, would you really be able to sleep at night?"

He reached out, attempting to grab my hand. "You are still my woman. That fact will not change. I had no choice with Sophie, but I swear I will make it up to you."

He lowered his voice even further, leaning in. "I will set you up in a private penthouse. I will take care of all your expenses. Once you give birth to a son for me, I promise I will give you a proper title and bring you back into the Prescott estate."

I actually laughed.

For a brief second, I genuinely hoped I was hallucinating.

Then, I raised my hand and slapped him as hard as I could across the face.

Oliver stumbled back, completely stunned. "You..."

"So let me get this straight. You leave me here to be a public laughingstock on our wedding day, turn around to marry Sophie, and I am supposed to weep tears of gratitude while I stay in the shadows and breed for you?" I narrowed my eyes. "And once I am done, you will graciously grant me the title of your dirty little secret?"

Oliver's expression turned lethal, the fabricated warmth instantly vanishing from his eyes. "Violet, I was giving you a generous way out. Do you really think you are some untouchable royalty?"

"Everyone in Manhattan knows you were mine. You are damaged goods. Who else would possibly marry you if you leave me?"

"I have been more than merciful. If you know what is good for you, you will behave and do exactly as I say."

With that, he straightened his jacket, turned on his heel, and stormed off.

I stood rooted to the spot. It took a full minute before I realized my hands were violently shaking.

Oliver used to be different.

We grew up together. Our marriage was arranged when we were practically kids. He used to be so gentle, so fiercely protective of me.

But everything completely shattered the day my parents brought Sophie home as their newly adopted daughter.

Sophie claimed she was emotionally unstable. She demanded Oliver be by her side constantly.

Gradually, he began waiting on her hand and foot. He took her to her therapy appointments, drove her to the coast to clear her mind, and personally cooked her meals. Whenever her insomnia flared up, he would stay awake all night just to sit by her bed.

Once, I was involved in a car accident. Bleeding heavily from a head wound, I dialed his number in a panic.

His voice on the other end was dripping with sheer impatience. "Sophie just barely stabilized, and now you are causing a scene to get my attention? Call an ambulance yourself."

I had gripped my phone tightly, tears mixing with the blood on my face.

Looking back, that was the exact moment I should have realized I had been completely erased from his world.

The very next day, Victor Blackwood's betrothal gifts arrived at the Sinclair estate.

An entire city block was shut down by a fleet of sleek, black luxury vehicles. When the trunks popped open, they revealed heavy gold bars, flawless emeralds, antique porcelain, and rare vintage paintings. It was a display of wealth most people could not even fathom.

My mother clutched a heavy emerald necklace to her chest, her hands literally trembling with greed. "Look at this! This is a Colombian emerald! A real emerald!"

My father cradled an antique purple clay teapot, his face practically splitting from smiling so hard. "Look at the sincerity of the Blackwoods. Violet marrying into that family is the best thing that could happen to us."

"What an incredible match! Just incredible!"

I stood off to the side, watching their performance with dead eyes.

They were cheering as if they had just won the lottery, completely ignoring the fact that I was the winning ticket being cashed in.

My mother grabbed my hands tightly. "Violet, once you move into that mansion, you have to be obedient. Be a good girl. Do not do anything to upset Mr. Blackwood."

"He is getting up there in years. If you take good care of him, just imagine his will. Once the inheritance is divided, our Sinclair family will ascend to the absolute top of Manhattan's elite!"

I listened in silence. I did not say a single word.

In that moment, I found the entire situation hilariously grotesque.

Were these really my parents?

Shouldn't they be terrified that I was being sold off to an old man?

When the news first broke that Sophie was arranged to marry Victor, they had sobbed and wailed as if the sky was falling. They acted like it was a death sentence.

But now that my name was on the marriage certificate, it was suddenly a glorious blessing from above?

From the corner of the room, I caught the hushed whispers of the household maids.

"I heard the old man is knocking on heaven's door. His health is completely failing."

"Tell me about it. Just a few days ago, he was in the ICU fighting for his life all night."

"He could drop dead at any moment."

"Miss Violet is going to have a miserable life. Becoming a widow right after the honeymoon? How cursed."

"Being a widow is the least of her worries. The Blackwoods are an ancient, ruthless bloodline. I heard his first two wives died under terrifying circumstances right after he passed. They say the family buries the wives alongside the patriarch to keep him company in the afterlife."

"Wait... you don't think they will make Miss Violet..."

Their terrified gossip drifted into my ears, but my expression remained completely flat.

Buried alive with him?

Fine.

It didn't matter. No one in this house loved me anyway.

From the second Sophie stepped through the front door, she became the undisputed jewel of the Sinclair family. I was nothing but a burden.

Her bedroom was lined with imported cashmere rugs. Her walk in closet was stuffed with limited edition designer bags.

Meanwhile, my room was smaller than the servant quarters. The window frames leaked freezing air all winter, forcing me to sleep under two heavy wool blankets just to stop shivering.

She loved premium caviar and truffles. My mother would personally prepare it and deliver it to her room on a silver tray.

If I boiled a pot of water for tea, I was scolded for wasting the gas bill.

When Sophie casually mentioned she liked pink diamonds, my parents immediately commissioned a custom, one of a kind necklace just for her.

Meanwhile, I did not even own a basic string of freshwater pearls.

But everything was different now.

The betrothal gifts from the Blackwoods filled the entire grand hall.

The luxury items I was never even allowed to look at were now piled up right in front of my feet.

I casually reached into a velvet box and pulled out a stunning ruby necklace, letting the heavy stones catch the light.

Seeing this, my mother immediately frowned. "What are you doing touching those? Put it down!"

I shot her a freezing glare. "The Blackwoods sent these for me. Are you saying I cannot wear my own jewelry?"

Her face turned a sickly shade of pale. She opened her mouth to argue but ultimately swallowed her anger. "Fine. Wear it. Just don't break anything."

Absolutely pathetic.

I sifted through the boxes, pulling out a tiara encrusted with brilliant cut diamonds. I placed it on my head, looking at my reflection in the gilded mirror, and forced a smile.

No one in this world loved me, and marrying into the Blackwood family might very well be a death sentence.

But at least for right now, all of these beautiful things belonged to me.

If I was going to die, I was going to enjoy the absolute peak of luxury before I went out.

Dripping in diamonds and rubies, I walked right out the front door.

Just as I stepped onto the sidewalk, a familiar luxury car pulled up directly in front of me.

The car door swung open. Sophie, wearing six inch designer heels and clinging tightly to Oliver's arm, stepped out onto the pavement.

The moment she saw me, she paused, then covered her mouth to muffle a mocking giggle. "Violet, what exactly are you wearing?"

She looked me up and down with exaggerated pity. "Is that rhinestone crown from a dollar store? Oh, it looks incredibly cheap on you."

As she spoke, she unclasped a thin, dainty chain from her designer purse and held it out to me. "Here. A street vendor gave this to me earlier. It is too low class for me to wear, but maybe you want it? At least if you wear this, people won't laugh at you for wearing fake plastic jewelry."

I stared at her in absolute silence.

She tilted her head, maintaining her sickeningly sweet, innocent facade. "Violet, I know you are furious with me. But Oliver treats me so well. I really cannot help it."

"We will still be a family, right?"

"Besides, Oliver told me he has to marry me first. You will just have to endure living in a separate apartment for a while..."

Listening to her nauseating performance made my stomach violently churn.

I reached out and slapped her hand away. The cheap necklace hit the concrete.

Sophie let out a piercing shriek and dramatically collapsed to the ground.

Her eyes widened in horror, and tears instantly spilled down her cheeks. "Violet... why did you push me?!"

"Do you hate me that much? But... but I really didn't mean to steal Oliver from you... I am just so sick, and he felt sorry for me... he just wanted to take care of me..."

Her voice was soft, trembling, and laced with thick sobs, making her look like the ultimate victim.

Oliver stormed forward, his face burning with rage, and shoved me hard in the chest. "Violet, that is enough!"

"You know Sophie suffers from depression! Why would you purposefully trigger her and assault her?"

He glared down at me, gritting his teeth. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear. When you enter my house, I will personally ensure your life is a living hell."

"A vicious woman like you only deserves to sleep in the servant quarters."

"You will eat whatever scraps the maids eat."

"If you dare show Sophie even an ounce of disrespect again, I will throw you out into the streets."

With a final sneer of disgust, he bent down and gently helped Sophie to her feet. His tone instantly shifted into sickening sweetness. "Don't cry, Sophie. Let's go home."

I stood on the pavement, watching Sophie peer over Oliver's shoulder. She flashed me a triumphant, arrogant smirk.

I looked down at the ground and let out a self deprecating laugh.

My title as the eldest daughter of the Sinclair family was nothing but a hollow joke.

Sophie's depression only ever seemed to flare up when it was convenient for her.

In front of Oliver and my parents, she was a fragile, dying flower that would crumble in the wind.

But the moment we were alone, she was a completely different monster.

If I bought myself a new dress, she would instantly snatch it out of my hands. "You gained weight, Violet. You can't fit into this anymore. Let me wear it for you."

Whenever I complained to Oliver, he would scold me for being petty. "Sophie has clinical depression. Why are you always fighting with her over stupid things?"

Piece by piece, everything I ever owned was stripped away and handed to her.

A few days before the Blackwood wedding, I went to a high end boutique to buy myself a plush fox toy.

I had never celebrated a birthday in that house. No one had ever bought me a gift.

I figured buying a stuffed animal might bring me a fleeting moment of comfort.

But the second I reached the counter, I saw Oliver and Sophie. A mountain of plush toys was piled up in front of them.

As I approached, Oliver wrapped his arm around Sophie's waist and glanced back at me. "Sorry. Sophie claimed all of these."

Sophie leaned softly against his chest. "Violet, did you want a plushie too?"

She picked up a beautiful, fluffy bunny and tilted her head in mock innocence. "But... do cute things really suit you?"

"You know what they say. Ugly people shouldn't try to act cute."

"Do you really think holding a cute toy will magically make you lovable? It's honestly kind of gross."

She blinked her large eyes as if a brilliant idea had just struck her. "If you really want one that badly, I guess I can spare one for you."

She dug through the clearance bin at the end of the counter and pulled out a dusty, hideous green toad plushie.

She dangled it by one leg right in front of my face. "Here, Violet. This one is perfect for you. Look, it matches you perfectly. Bug eyes, bloated stomach... hahaha!"

I had stared at her, feeling no anger, only a bone deep, freezing numbness.

Without bothering to argue, I simply turned around and walked out of the store.

Now, back in the present, I returned to the estate and collapsed exhaustedly onto the sofa.

A maid rolled a massive cart into the living room. "Miss, the Blackwood family just sent over another gift."

It was a giant, waist high pink box wrapped in a silk ribbon.

I opened the lid. Inside lay a massive, incredibly soft fox plushie. Its fur gleamed under the chandelier, soft and beautiful beyond words.

Tied around its neck was an elegant, custom embroidered tag with a single word: Blackwood.

I ran my fingertips gently through the soft fur. For the first time in years, a tiny spark of warmth flickered in my chest.

Someone in this world was actually willing to give me exactly what I wanted.

Who would have thought this Victor Blackwood actually had a romantic side?