Chapter 10: The Billionaires Bride
846 Words
The church bells of St. Jude’s Cathedral echoed through the brisk morning air. Outside, a sea of reporters and paparazzi pressed against the velvet ropes, their camera flashes creating a blinding, continuous glare. Today was the wedding of the century.
Inside the bridal suite, Clara stood perfectly still as the stylists adjusted the long, cathedral-length lace veil over her hair. She stared at her reflection. The woman in the mirror looked ethereal, wearing a multi-million dollar gown, her lips painted a soft rose, and her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and sheer terror.
Her phone buzzed on the vanity table. It was a text from her mother: 'We are already seated, sweetheart. You look beautiful. We love you.'
Clara squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing the lump in her throat. She had to remind herself why she was doing this. It wasn't a fairy tale. It was a business transaction that saved her family.
A knock on the door broke her thoughts, and the stylists quickly bowed and exited the room. Through the mirror, Clara saw Ethan walk in.
He was dressed in a flawless, bespoke black tuxedo that accentuated his tall, athletic frame. His dark hair was styled perfectly, and he looked every bit the powerful, untouchable billionaire the world knew him to be. But as his eyes locked onto Clara, he froze.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Ethan walked over slowly, his footsteps silent on the thick carpet until he stood right behind her. His gaze swept over her from the lace detailing of her dress to the nervous look in her eyes.
"The doors open in five minutes," Ethan said, his voice unusually low, carrying a strange thickness to it. "Are you ready, Clara?"
"My heart is beating so fast, I feel like I'm about to faint," Clara admitted, her voice trembling as she turned around to face him. She looked up into his deep, dark eyes. "What if I trip on the train? What if I hesitate during the vows?"
Ethan stepped closer, closing the distance between them. He reached down and took her small, gloved hands in his. His grip was steady, warm, and remarkably grounding.
"Look at me," Ethan commanded softly, forcing her to focus entirely on him. "Forget about the cameras outside. Forget about the board members, the Hendersons, and the crowd. When those doors open, you only look at me. Follow my lead, and I won't let you fall."
Clara looked at their joined hands, then back up at his face. The cold, ruthless CEO was nowhere to be found. In his place was the man who had protected her in the kitchen and defended her in the boardroom. "Okay," she whispered, breathing a sigh of relief. "Just you."
"Good," Ethan murmured, his eyes lingering on her lips for a second too long before he pulled back, offering his arm to her. "Let's go give them a show."
When the massive wooden doors of the cathedral swung open, the grand organ music filled the space. Hundreds of heads turned toward the back of the church. Gasps whispered through the crowd as the high society guests realized the bride was indeed Clara, not Victoria.
But Clara didn't look at them. She kept her eyes locked onto Ethan, who stood at the end of the long white altar, waiting for her.
Her walk felt like a blur, but as she reached the altar and Ethan took her hand, the noise of the world completely faded. The priest began the ceremony, and when it was time for the vows, Clara spoke clearly, promising to love and cherish him—words written in a contract, yet feeling dangerously real in the heat of the moment.
"I do," Ethan said, his deep voice echoing through the cathedral, his eyes burning into hers with an intensity that made her core tremble.
"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest declared. "You may kiss the bride."
The crowd held its breath. Clara's heart skipped a beat as Ethan stepped in, his large hand gently cupping the back of her neck. He leaned down, and instead of a polite, fake peck on the cheek, his lips met hers in a firm, warm, and breathtaking kiss.
It was supposed to be for the cameras, but as his lips lingered and molded against hers, Clara felt the world spin. It was passionate, demanding, and filled with an unspoken emotion that terrified her.
When he finally pulled back, his thumb lightly brushed her lower lip, his eyes dark and clouded with a sudden heat.
The crowd erupted into loud applause, but as Clara looked at her new husband—and the heavy diamond band now resting on her finger—she realized the truth. The contract had just begun, but she had already crossed a line she could never return from. She was now the billionaire's wife.
- Writer
