The Billionaire's Last wish

Chapter 1

Noah remained stock-still, an inscrutable visage, while Valeria's trembling hand faltered above the marriage papers. An older man with nervous hands-the minister-assuredly guided her hand to where it ought to go with a low and soothing voice.

The room was struck into an eerie silence potential for the faint scratching of a pen against paper. Noah remained indifferent, having probably no interest in watching this process that should be appearing to him like a business deal, the binding of two lives.

Had he been a man able to appreciate beauty, he would have thought Valeria was admirable. Cascades of red, fiery hair framed her face and flowed down her shoulders, catching the dim light of the chapel. Her lips only vaguely tinted rose were set with an exercise in concentration that accented her finely chiselled features in perfect proportions. The white gown hugged all the right curves of her body; she was almost a picture of elegance.

But Noah was not, beauty did not matter to him, and women mattered even less. To him, they were just treacherous and manipulative. Valeria was no exception-whether blind or not. That sick feeling of joy welled up within at the thought of her signing. So she had just signed her sentence, and he would be the one to make sure she regretted it.

"You are now pronounced husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," the minister's voice boomed through the chapel.

The words brought Noah out of his reverie, and he threw a piercing, ice-cold glare in the direction of the minister. The man recoiled instinctively, taking a step back. Noah allowed a mocking smile to escape his lips as his attention shifted back to Valeria.

She stood with a faint flush on her cheeks, palms pressed tightly together. She seemed delicate, almost breakable. For a moment, a flicker somewhere deep inside him stirred—pity, maybe? Just as soon, he crushed the thought. Turning on his heel, he strode out of the chapel, leaving his new bride alone before the altar.

Murmurs among the guests rose in a wave. Noah's family remained impassive; they knew him too well to be shocked. His ruthlessness was infamous; many had doubted he would even grace the wedding with his presence. Yet here was his exit as abrupt as his entrance, leaving Valeria to face the aftermath on her own.

She could still hear the sound of his steps receding from her. Her heart pounded with a mixture of relief and humiliation. A kiss? That would have happened if she had been ready: ready for the ceremony, ready for everything; if tradition had held sway. A kiss to bless the vows; a kiss to mark the start of a new life together.

But this wedding was going to survive in infamy and for different reasons. No kiss, no warmth, no promise, just dead, cold silence.

There she stood, feeling the heat on her cheeks, when another set of footsteps approached—heavy, deliberate. He spoke before she could react.

"May I?"

A gloved hand clasped hers, steering it to rest on his forearm. She recognized the voice at once—Lucas, the younger brother of Noah. Unlike Noah, he had always been kind to her.

Valeria only nodded, unable to utter a single word. Lucas took her down the aisle. Her head was stormy: she wanted to cry, scream, or laugh at the outrageousness of the situation. She broke free from the chains of her father's control, only to find herself shackled by a man even colder and more distant.

Stepping foot into the bright sunlight brings a heavy knot in the chest. Would NOAH ever give her even a bit of kindness to taste? Or was she doomed to live under the twin shadow of his resentment?

Lucas glanced down at her, his face unreadable. His voice lacked conviction: "It'll be alright."

She forced a slight smile, but everything felt anything but "alright." The heavy mantle of her new reality settled on her shoulders like a shroud, suffocating, inescapable. But she would not break. Not before her stepmother, Alice, who would revel in seeing her crumble.

"Valeria, darling." The voice of her father interrupted her chain of thought. Warm, guilt-pierced, and closed in Oar's arms. Coming nearer, hesitating, he drew her into a brief embrace. "I hope you halve the joy you had with me."

Valeria managed another forced smile. "Thank you, Father." Inside, her heart ached with bitterness. Twice as much joy? Ironic. He married her to a stranger but wanted her to be happy. For years, she had pined for his attention, his approval,--only to be passed off like an article.

Before she could ponder on his words, Alice's sweet voice tainted the air. "Oh, Valeria, dear," came a cooing voice feigning sadness, "I'll miss seeing you around.”

Alice pulled her into a tight, suffocating hug, her perfume cloying. Valeria stiffened, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Then, in a low whisper meant only for her, Alice’s true colors emerged. “Enjoy your lifetime of misery with that monster you married.”

The words were sharp, designed to wound. But Valeria didn’t flinch. She had long since learned to see through Alice’s act.

Her expression remained serene, her practiced smile unwavering. She had perfected the art of masking pain, of smiling through discomfort. She wouldn’t break. Not now, not ever.

Julia, her stepsister, stood nearby, arms crossed. After a moment’s hesitation, she stepped forward, giving Valeria a reluctant hug.

“I’ll be okay, Julia,” Valeria whispered.

Julia didn’t reply, but she squeezed Valeria’s hand—a silent offering of support. It wasn’t much, but Valeria clung to it nonetheless.

As Valeria stepped away from her family, she felt a strange sense of resolve. She had endured her father’s neglect, Alice’s cruelty, Julia’s indifference. She would endure this too. Noah might be a monster, but she had been living among them her entire life.

“Are you going to start crying?” A new voice broke through her thoughts. “If it’s about Noah leaving you behind, don’t feel bad. He treats everyone like that.”

Valeria furrowed her brows. The voice was informal, teasing even.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice unsteady.

The man chuckled. “Lucas Anderson. Your husband’s personal assistant. And as of now, yours as well.”

Valeria hesitated as he guided her toward the car. As the vehicle’s engine roared to life, she braced herself. Her husband sat beside her, his presence cold and unyielding.

Her hands clenched her gown tightly, her breathing controlled. Noah didn’t acknowledge her, his gaze fixed on the window.

Lucas stole a glance at her through the rearview mirror. He saw the tension in her posture but said nothing. He knew better than to offer empty reassurances.

Valeria’s mind raced. She didn’t know what awaited her at the end of this journey, but she knew one thing for certain—she would not break.

She had survived this long. She would survive Noah Owen, too.