Strange Bride.
1095 Words
CHAPTER 2
Strange Bride.
Donald Taylor stood near the altar, adjusting his cufflinks with a practiced ease that suggested he was completely at home in this grand cathedral. To everyone watching, he appeared to be the picture of control—poised, confident, and utterly unfazed by the extravagant ceremony unfolding around him.
But deep down, something felt off.
His mother, Evelyn Taylor, leaned in closer, her sharp gaze scanning the aisle. "Where is Stephanie? I can’t shake this uneasy feeling."
Valeria, his younger sister, crossed her arms, her expression serious. "I don’t know, Mom, but I’ve felt it since we got here. Something’s definitely not right."
Donald exhaled slowly, trying to keep his composure. "What do you mean? What’s wrong?"
Evelyn frowned, her worry evident. "Stephanie has been unusually absent these last few weeks, hasn’t she?"
"She was busy getting ready for the wedding," he replied, though doubt crept in.
"Was she really?" Valeria pressed, her tone challenging. "You hardly saw her. She didn’t even reach out to you. All the planning was done by her father."
Donald felt his jaw tighten.
That much was true.
His discussions had been with Robert Cartar, not Stephanie. Even the bridal gown and seating arrangements—everything had been meticulously organized without the bride’s direct input.
He hadn’t thought much of it before. He wasn’t one to dwell on sentimental wedding traditions.
But now, as the music swelled and the bride began her walk down the aisle, his instincts were screaming at him.
Something was definitely wrong.
The woman approaching him wasn’t Stephanie.
The delicate frame, the hesitant steps, the way her hands clutched the bouquet just a bit too tightly…
It felt all wrong.
His mother must have sensed his unease because she leaned in and whispered urgently, "Donald, are you sure that’s Stephanie?"
He narrowed his eyes as the bride drew nearer.
Robert Cartar escorted her down the aisle, his expression unreadable. But Donald wasn’t focused on him—his attention was locked on the woman beside him, the one who had just been introduced as Stephanie Cartar.
His heart raced.
And then, beneath the delicate veil, he caught a glimpse of her eyes.
A pair of defiant, haunted eyes that didn’t belong to the woman he was supposed to marry.
This wasn’t Stephanie.
This was someone entirely different.
As the organ music filled the air, Rose felt as if her feet were made of lead, dragging her toward the altar. Each step grew heavier, and her breaths became more constricted. She could sense Donald’s gaze piercing through the veil, intense and unwavering.
He knows.
Her stomach twisted into knots as she approached him. His face was like stone, but his eyes—cold and calculating—were filled with suspicion.
When she finally stood before him, the silence felt like a weight pressing down on her.
"Take care of her, son," Robert said smoothly, placing Rose’s hand in Donald’s.
But Donald didn’t take it.
Instead, he reached up—slowly, deliberately—and pulled back the veil.
A gasp echoed through the church.
Donald’s entire body tensed. "Who the hell are you?"
The hall fell into a stunned silence.
Rose swallowed hard, her throat dry. "I—"
"Where is Stephanie?" His voice cut through the air like a knife.
Rose opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, Robert stepped in with a forced smile. "Donald, let’s not make a scene—"
Donald turned on him, his eyes blazing. "A scene? You think I care about that? Where. Is. Stephanie?"
His mother, Evlyn, stepped forward, her face twisted in anger. "Robert, what is going on here?!"
Robert stiffened but maintained his calm facade. "Stephanie had… an emergency."
"An emergency?" Donald echoed, disbelief dripping from his voice. His gaze snapped back to Rose. "So you thought you could just swap her out like a piece of merchandise?"
Rose clenched her fists tightly.
"I didn’t choose this," she replied, her voice steady even though she felt like she was shaking inside.
"Then why the hell are you standing here?"
"Because I had no choice!" she shot back.
Donald let out a short, humorless laugh. "No choice? You let them dress you up, walk you down this aisle, and lie to my face?”
"I never lied," Rose shot back, her voice firm. "I was pushed into this just as much as you were."
Donald turned to Robert, his jaw tightening with anger. "You really thought I wouldn’t catch on? You thought you could embarrass me in front of the whole city?"
Robert straightened up, unfazed. "I expected you to act like a businessman, Donald. The deal is still on. You get a wife. Our families are still tied together—"
Donald interrupted him sharply. "Tied by what? Deceit?"
Robert’s face darkened. "You need this deal just as much as we do."
Donald shifted his gaze back to Rose, his voice dropping to a low, venomous tone. "Take off that dress and get the hell out of my sight."
A collective gasp echoed through the church.
Rose’s heart raced. Every part of her wanted to run, but Robert’s grip on her arm was unyielding.
"This wedding is happening," Robert hissed quietly.
Donald let out a bitter laugh. "Not a chance."
But just as he turned to leave, Evlyn Taylor stepped forward, her expression unreadable. "Donald, wait."
He turned to her, impatience etched on his face. "What?"
She scrutinized Rose closely. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, she declared, "Marry her."
Donald’s head whipped around to her. "Excuse me?"
"Marry her," Evelyn repeated firmly. "Stephanie is gone. This girl is still a Cartar. The business arrangement stands."
"You want me to marry a woman who was tossed at me like a replacement doll?" Donald growled, incredulous.
"I want you to think," Evelyn shot back coldly. "If you walk away now, we lose everything. And so do they. And you hate losing, Donald."
Donald’s fists clenched, his teeth grinding together. His glare flickered to Rose, a mix of fury and something else flashing in his eyes.
For a long, suffocating moment, silence hung in the air.
Then, in a voice colder than ice, he finally spoke.
"Fine."
That single word sent a chill down Rose’s spine.
"But understand this," he leaned in, his voice low and threatening, "You may be my wife in name, but you’ll never be my wife in any other sense."
And with that, the wedding went on.
Just as she was lost in her thoughts, a hand suddenly grabbed her.
- Writer
