Chapter 3: The Wedding
713 Words
The day of my wedding felt unreal, like I was trapped in a surreal nightmare. The mansion buzzed with activity, but none of it felt celebratory. Every step I took down the long, marble hallways echoed back to me, reminding me of the emptiness of this arrangement.
I adjusted my simple white gown for the hundredth time, my fingers trembling. It was beautiful but understated—exactly the kind of dress one would wear to a wedding that wasn’t supposed to mean anything.
“Miss Evelyn,” the butler called softly from the door. “Mr. Alaric is ready.”
Of course, he was ready. Lucas Alaric was always in control, always ten steps ahead. My stomach churned as I followed the butler into the grand ballroom, which had been transformed into a sterile imitation of a chapel.
Lucas stood at the altar, his dark suit cutting a sharp figure against the pale backdrop. His sunglasses glinted under the chandeliers, a constant reminder of the mystery—and danger—surrounding him.
As I approached, every step felt heavier. My palms were damp, and my heart raced as if I were walking toward my doom.
When I finally reached him, he extended his hand. “You’re shaking,” he murmured. His voice was low, meant only for me.
“Wouldn’t you be?” I countered, trying to steady myself.
He smirked faintly. “No. I don’t get nervous.”
The officiant cleared his throat, drawing our attention. “Shall we begin?”
Lucas nodded curtly. I barely heard the words being spoken; my thoughts were too loud.
“Do you, Evelyn Parker, take Lucas Alaric to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
I hesitated. My gaze flickered to Lucas. His expression was unreadable, his posture rigid.
“Yes,” I said finally, my voice shaky but firm.
“And do you, Lucas Alaric, take Evelyn Parker to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“Yes,” he replied without hesitation.
His decisiveness sent a shiver down my spine. To him, this wasn’t a marriage—it was a transaction, a game he intended to win.
When the officiant announced us as husband and wife, Lucas turned to me.
“Kiss the bride,” someone whispered, though it wasn’t part of the plan.
Lucas leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that was brief but commanding. It wasn’t tender or loving—it was a statement.
After the ceremony, Lucas escorted me back to the mansion, his hand firm on my lower back. The silence between us was oppressive.
Once inside, he guided me into the living room. “This is where we set the rules,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.
“Rules?” I asked, folding my arms. “I thought we already established those.”
He removed his sunglasses, revealing stormy gray eyes that pinned me in place. “There are always more rules, Evelyn. Rule one: never question me in public. Rule two: always wear your wedding ring. And rule three…” He leaned in close, his voice dropping. “Never lie to me.”
“Why would I lie to you?” I asked, my heart pounding at his proximity.
“Because you’re scared,” he said bluntly.
I flinched, his words hitting too close to home. “I’m not scared of you.”
He tilted his head, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Liar.”
Before I could respond, he straightened and walked toward the door. “Your room is down the hall to the left. My room is off-limits. We’ll discuss more tomorrow.”
He left me standing there, my mind racing with questions and emotions I couldn’t sort through.
That night, I wandered through the mansion, trying to calm my nerves. The silence was eerie, the shadows too deep.
As I passed by Lucas’s study, I heard voices. Curious, I paused by the door.
“She doesn’t know, does she?” a man’s voice said.
“She doesn’t need to,” Lucas replied coldly. “Not yet.”
My breath caught. What didn’t I know? What was Lucas hiding?
Evelyn backed away from the door, her mind swirling with dread and suspicion about the man she just married.
- Writer
