A Deal at the Altar

Arianna’s POV The world goes quiet when the veil comes down over my face. The soft lace brushes my lashes. The weight of it presses on my breathing. Everyone thinks they are about to witness the happiest moment of my life. But this is not my wedding. Not my groom. Not my future. It feels more like a funeral. My fingers tremble around the bouquet. White roses. Olivia’s favorite. They smell too sweet. Too perfect. I feel sick. My mother stands behind me just outside the grand church doors. Her nails dig into my arm through the silk gloves. “You keep your head high. Do not ruin this for us.” Us. I want to tell her I am already ruined. But my voice is locked somewhere deep in my chest. The church doors open. A burst of camera flashes blinds me. Gasps ripple through the sea of high society guests. The long aisle stretches out in a blur of marble and stained glass. Every step I take feels like walking deeper into a trap. Zach Price waits at the end. He looks like a statue carved out of fury and perfection. His suit is black, tailored to a body built like it was designed to intimidate. His storm gray eyes are fixed on me, sharp and cold as a blade. He thinks Olivia is walking toward him. My heart hammers. I want to run. But I made a promise. To protect the family that has always treated me like an afterthought. Because I am always the one who stays. The one who sacrifices. My heels hit the altar step. Zach reaches forward and lifts the veil. His expression turns from anticipation to shock and then pure anger. “What is this?” His voice is low, venomous. Only I can hear it. I swallow hard. “It is me.” “Where is Olivia?” I look away. “She is gone.” His jaw ticks. “Of course she is.” He turns forward before I can say more. He grips my hand so tightly I almost drop the bouquet. The priest clears his throat awkwardly and begins the vows. The entire time Zach does not look at me again. He stares forward like he is marrying the wall. When it is time to place the ring, his fingers are ice against mine. The diamond feels heavy, like chains instead of a promise. “I do,” he says. Flat. Mechanical. Like a sentence passed. My voice barely escapes. “I do.” Applause erupts. I do not feel like a bride. I feel like a lie. As soon as we are hidden behind the privacy of the stone columns, Zach rounds on me. “You think you can replace her?” His voice is sharp enough to cut. “No. I never wanted this,” I whisper. “But you agreed.” His eyes narrow. “Everyone will think you tricked me into this.” “I was forced.” “We were all forced,” he snaps. “You should have said no.” A bitter laugh almost escapes me. He does not understand. No was never an option in my family. “If I refused, everything would fall apart. My parents. The company. Your deal.” “So you would rather destroy my life instead?” He steps closer. Too close. I back up until my spine hits the cold wall. His presence swallows the space around me. My breath catches. “You think I wanted to stand here and marry a stranger,” he says. “You think I want a replacement bride.” “I am not replacing her. I am just filling a space she left.” “That space was mine,” he growls. I meet his eyes. They are furious. Hurt. Betrayed. More human than I expected. “I am sorry, Zach.” “Save that.” He waves off my apology like it disgusts him. “Here are the rules. You stay quiet. You stay obedient. You play your role until I say otherwise. And you do not touch my life any more than you already have.” His breathing is harsh. Mine is shaky. I find my courage, tiny and fragile. “And what happens to me after that?” “You disappear,” he says coldly. “You go back to whatever shadows you crawled out from.” A sting hits my chest. He sees me exactly how everyone else always has. Invisible. Replaceable. But I lift my chin. “Fine.” His eyes flicker for a second like he did not expect me to agree so easily. “Good. Then we understand each other,” he says. Suddenly reporters burst toward us. Cameras flash again. Zach’s expression shifts like a switch has been flipped. He wraps his arm around my waist, holding me close for the cameras. Possessive. Territorial. Like he owns me already. His breath grazes my ear. “Smile. If you want to survive this, you will smile.” So I do. I smile like nothing is wrong. Like my heart is not breaking. Like this is not the biggest mistake of my life. I do not know if it is my imagination but as his hand presses firmly against the small of my back, I feel my skin ignite. A spark that should not exist. I hate that my body reacts to him. I hate that I feel anything at all. They shout our names. “Zach. Look here. Kiss the bride. Kiss her.” My stomach flips. Zach stiffens beside me. “We do not have to,” I whisper. He turns my face toward his. His eyes burn like a storm about to break. “I keep my promises,” he says. His hand slides to my jaw. His thumb brushes my lips. My pulse jumps wild. Even angry, he is devastating. My breath catches when he leans in. His mouth touches mine. It is not a soft kiss. It is a warning. He claims. He punishes. He sets the rules of this war in one long press of lips. But my body betrays me. My fingers clutch the lapel of his suit. I feel everything. Heat. Electricity. Gravity pulling us closer. His grip tightens like he feels it too. Then he tears away like the touch disgusts him. “That is enough,” he mutters. The crowd cheers. Inside, I collapse. As we move to exit the church, his hand stays locked around mine. A show for the world. But his voice drops to a whisper meant only for me. “This is not over. Not even close.” My heart races. He is right. It is not over. Because just as we reach the waiting limo, a phone in his pocket buzzes. He glances at the screen. His entire body goes still. His eyes widen with shock. He whispers one word under his breath. “Olivia.” My blood turns to ice. His gaze snaps to me. Accusing. Terrifying. He yanks his hand away from mine. “What did you do?” he demands. I shake my head. “I do not know what you mean.” He steps closer until his breath hits my skin again. “She is alive,” he says. “And she is calling me.” I freeze. The guests cheer louder. My nightmare is only beginning.