The Billionaire's 'Ugly' Bride

"Lyra, you ready? The people from the Beaumonts are here to pick you up."

Victoria's voice came from outside the room. Lyra took one last look in the mirror, gave herself a satisfied nod, then opened the door. "Mom, I'm good to go."

Victoria stared at the girl before her—her sallow, almost blackened skin, lifeless eyes, and ugly features—and gasped, "Who the hell are you? Where's Lyra?"

"Mom, it's me! Lyra!" Lyra spun around like she was showing off a dress on Project Runway. "If even you can't recognize me, then I know for sure—Damien Beaumont's not gonna wanna touch me with a ten-foot pole."

"You..."

Victoria opened her mouth, but Lyra cut her off before she could even get started.

There's something odd about the look on Victoria's face. “You sure?”

"Relax. I've got this. I'll protect myself." Lyra thought she's worried about her, and comforted her mom.

Her family was in deep, like headline-scandal deep. Dad was facing prison, and the only people willing to help them were the uber-powerful, ultra-scary Beaumonts. The deal? Marry their third son Damien—a man rumored to be part Greek god, part horror movie villain.

Lyra loved her family—her parents doted on her, and her younger sister was sweet—so if it meant throwing herself into the lion's den, so be it.

Victoria sighed. "Let's go."

The two of them went downstairs. The foyer and the courtyard were packed with people, all sent by the Beaumonts to escort Lyra.

Say what you want about the Beaumonts—they knew how to bring the drama. It was giving royal wedding minus the love.

...

Damien had already made it clear: there'd be no wedding, no guests, no vows. Just... pick-up and drop-off. So “romantic”.

Lyra was chauffeured straight to the Beaumont’s lakeside villa.

"Ma'am, please step out," said a bodyguard, opening the door with military-grade politeness.

She'd heard rumors about Damien's mansion—it was supposedly on an island in the middle of a lake—but this was something out of The Bachelor: Villain Edition.

Massive. Lavish.

Like Versailles with a murdery vibe.

A uniformed butler approached. "Good day! Ma'am, I'm the butler, Donald. Sir is waiting for you. Please, follow me."

He paused for half a beat when he saw her face. She caught it. Everyone did.

Lyra smiled sweetly. "Thanks, Donald."

After a series of winding hallways that felt more like a test of endurance than a welcome, they stopped at a door.

Donald knocked. "Sir, she's here."

Silence. Then a deep, slow, male voice: "Come in."

Donald pushed the door open and stepped aside. "After you, ma'am."

Inside, lounging on a sofa like he was on the cover of GQ: Dark Edition, was THE Damien Beaumont.

He was all legs and lazy menace, with a wine glass in hand and his black shirt undone just enough to make you question your morals. His chest—toned, unfair. And that face? Sculpted perfection.

But his eyes? Like razors. The man didn't look at you—he sliced.

This was Damien Beaumont?

Lyra had heard he was a sadist, a psycho—but no one mentioned he was this HOT.

Then he looked at her, gave a slow once-over, and said, "So you're the one who was so desperate to marry me..." He paused, then added with venomous charm, "Ugly as hell."

Lyra blinked. "Excuse me?"

She understood every word individually, but together? Total nonsense.

Desperate? Her?

"You playing dumb?" Damien let out a low, mocking laugh. "I've met plenty of scheming women, but you're the first one who looks like that and still tries to play games."

If it weren't so insulting, it might've sounded like a weird backhanded compliment.

Lyra frowned. "What the hell is your problem?"

His smile vanished. "Since you're clearly confused... why don't we clear your head a little?"

Before she could react, the bodyguards grabbed her and dragged her toward the window.

"HEY! What are you doing?!"

Donald's nervous voice called out, "Sir, the lake has crocodiles..."

Crocodiles?!

Lyra's blood ran cold.

F word for you! Psycho!

"I only keep classy ones," Damien replied coolly. "They probably won't eat ugly women."

He was dead serious.

Her legs went weak. She stared at him, pleading, "I'm not pretending! I really don't know what you're talking about!"

Damien didn't respond. Just gave the guards a look.

Without a moment's hesitation, they dropped her.

SPLASH!

She fell like a rock into the lake.

Thankfully, instinct kicked in. She held her breath, kicked her legs, and managed to swim back up.

She gasped as she broke the surface—only to see someone swimming toward her.

A bodyguard.

One of the ones who'd just tossed her in.

Was he here to finish the job?

Panic surged.

She kicked him square in the chest. "GET OFF ME!"

"Ma'am—" he didn't expect it. She nailed him. He went under.

By the time he resurfaced, she was already halfway to shore.

He looked up toward the villa window where Damien was still watching.

He couldn't see the man's face clearly—but something about his vibe made the bodyguard shiver.

On the shore, Lyra spotted the car convoy that brought her here. The drivers were chilling nearby, smoking like it was just another Tuesday. She sprinted to the closest car, jumped in, slammed the gas, and took off.

Not until she was sure no one was chasing her did she slow down.

And then Damien's words came back to her.

She needed answers.

...

Back at the Stewarts' mansion, she hadn't even stepped inside when she heard laughter.

"Lyra finally married into the Beaumonts. I can sleep easy now."

"Mom, you're a genius. All it took was a little sweet talk and she walked straight into the trap. She's actually dumb enough to want to marry Damien. What an idiot."

"Thanks to this plan, we've secured the Beaumont connection. Our family's going to soar in Nacareon Bay. And Madison can marry someone actually decent..."

Lyra froze.

Wait... what?

This was all a setup?

She stormed in, dripping wet, and saw champagne already popped on the table.

"I just got tossed into a crocodile-infested lake by that psycho, and you're all here celebrating?! My dying sister is perfectly healthy and trash-talking me, and my arrested dad is here sipping bubbly? What am I to you people?"

Water poured off her clothes onto the carpet.

Victoria jumped up in horror. "Get off the rug! That's custom alpaca velvet—I waited six months for delivery! It's limited-edition!"

Lyra stared at her, stunned. "Seriously? I nearly died and you're worried about the stupid carpet?"

Victoria ignored her completely, yelling at the maid to clean it up.

Then her dad Wade walked toward her.

Her heart clenched with a flicker of hope. "Dad..."

SLAP.

The hit came fast and hard.

"You came back?! Are you trying to get us killed?" he shouted. "You've always been poison. Even with amnesia, you're still rotten. We've done everything for you—and you still want to ruin us?!"

The slap hit Lyra so hard her ears rang. One side of her face swelled instantly, numb from the blow.

For a long moment, she just sat there, then slowly turned to look at Wade. Her eyes were bloodshot, but not a single tear fell. "I remember… you used to be so kind to me when I was little."

Two months ago, Lyra woke up in a hospital overseas—but most of her memories were gone.

She couldn't even recall how she got hurt. All she had was a vague image of her father's warmth from childhood. So she followed that feeling back to the Stewarts' estate in Nacareon Bay.

When she returned, everyone treated her so well. She didn't remember the past, so she naively assumed her family loved her.

So when Victoria said the family business had collapsed, and her father was about to be thrown in jail—and only a marriage alliance with Damien Beaumont could save them—Lyra had volunteered to marry him instead of her sickly little sister.

Wade scoffed. "If you remember me being kind, then do your part and behave in the Beaumonts' house. Repay our kindness."

Madison finally spoke up, stepping closer. "Sis, you should listen to Mom and Dad this time. Don't be like when you were little…"

"Not your place to talk." Lyra's voice turned sharp as she glared at her.

Wade exploded. One kick sent Lyra sprawling to the ground. "You almost killed your sister back then! She's willing to forgive you and still call you ‘sister,' and this is how you act?!"

Madison stood quietly, tears sliding down her cheeks. So pitiful.

Lyra felt… nothing. Not the pain. Not even anger. Just cold.

She looked up, voice flat. "I'm heartless? You all tricked me into marrying Beaumont, and I'm the villain?"

If they could use her memory loss to sell her off like livestock, then there was no lie they wouldn't tell. She didn't believe a damn word out of their mouths!

"You—!" Wade raised his hand again.

Lyra didn't even flinch. "Go ahead. If you're a real man, hit me hard enough to finish the job."

"She's not worth wasting the energy. Send her back to the Beaumonts. Damien Beaumont'll take care of her." Victoria blocked Wade's hand, staring at Lyra like she was some bug she'd never seen before.

Lyra's heart turned to ice. She scrambled up, ready to run—but it was a trap from the start. The second she moved, bodyguards swarmed the room.

As they dragged her away, Lyra looked at Wade, Victoria, and Madison one by one. Her voice seethed with hate. "I won't let you win."

...

They dumped Lyra at the Beaumonts' lakeside villa again.

As soon as the car sped away, she was about to get up—

When a man, covered in blood, rolled to her feet.

He vomited a mouthful of blood onto her leg—and passed out cold.

Lyra froze in horror, stumbling back several steps.

"You're back?"

The voice was calm. Like he knew all along she'd return.

She looked up and saw Damien standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

She glanced at the man on the ground, then back at Damien. "What did you do to him?"

Lyra's back straightened. Her entire body tensed. Half her face was already bruised and swollen, making her look even worse—but her eyes? They blazed.

Damien found himself slightly intrigued. He walked toward her.

Up close, his face was perfect—flawless and cruel. Lyra's heart skipped a beat.

She barely came up to his shoulder. He had to tilt his head to really see her.

He frowned. "Short and ugly."

She was 5'5"—not even that short—but Lyra didn't argue.

She pointed at the man on the ground. "What did you do to him?"

Damien narrowed his eyes slightly. His voice was calm, almost gentle. "Does it matter to you?"

The chill in his tone made Lyra shudder.

Still, she swallowed her fear. "You can't just beat people like that."

The air shifted.

Everyone around them—bodyguards, maids—went dead silent.

"Ma'am…" Donald warned softly. Even he looked nervous.

No one EVER questioned Damien.

Damien chuckled. "You gonna lecture me?"

His smile didn't reach his eyes. The danger coming off him was real. Palpable. Lyra clenched her fists. "You can't just bully people because you have power. That's wrong."

Damien said nothing. He just stared at her, his gaze like a blade.

Lyra braced herself for another blow. But then—"Throw that into the pool."

Damien never looked away from her.

He wasn't talking about her, was he?

The bodyguards hesitated. Throw who?

Ma'am again?

Donald coughed lightly. "The man on the ground."

They understood immediately. Clearly, they were used to this.

A splash—and the man was tossed into the lake like garbage.

"Beating someone? That's nothing," Damien said lazily. "Even if he dies, so what?"

Lyra's eyes went wide. "He's unconscious! He'll drown!"

Damien didn't even blink, and he even gave a smile. "You can go save him. No one's stopping you."

He knew she wouldn't be able to do it. One woman. One unconscious adult male. No chance.

Lyra exhaled slowly. "If I save him… will you let him go?"

Damien gave her a half-smile. Said nothing.

She didn't wait. Every second counted.

Without another word, Lyra dove into the water.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"Is she crazy?" someone whispered.

Donald started to speak. "Sir, should we—"

Damien cut him off. "Just a woman. If she dies, I'll get another."

Donald frowned. "But Lord said to treat her well…"

Damien's eyes turned sharp. "You want to go in after her?"

Donald shut his mouth fast.

Damien watched the lake, lips pressed tight, something unreadable flickering across his face.

Lyra swam down, searching blindly. Luckily, the lake wasn't too deep. She found the man quickly.

She didn't remember much about herself. But she'd been thrown into this lake before, and swam out fine. She must've known how to swim.

She didn't know if she could drag this man to shore, but if she didn't try, she'd never forgive herself.

Kicking hard, she pushed them both toward the surface.

As soon as her head broke the water, she saw Damien standing on the shore.

"Ma'am's up!" someone shouted. A cheer went up—but quickly died under Damien's gaze.

And for just one second—maybe she imagined it—she thought he looked… relieved.

But then it was gone. That arrogant mask was back in place.

Guess she must've been hallucinating.