Chapter 11: The First Night
707 Words
The wedding reception at the Grand Vance Hotel was a blur of crystal chandeliers, flowing champagne, and endless congratulations from people Clara had only ever seen in business magazines. Everyone wanted a piece of the new Mrs. Vance, but Ethan never left her side, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back the entire evening.
It was past midnight when the luxury car finally pulled up to the penthouse apartment. The heavy silence inside the elevator was a sharp contrast to the noisy celebration they had just left.
Clara kicked off her painful designer heels the moment the penthouse door closed behind them. She let out a long, exhausted sigh, leaning against the cold wall. The heavy diamond ring on her finger felt foreign, a constant reminder of the vow she had taken hours ago.
Ethan unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket and tossed it onto the leather sofa. He loosened his bow tie, his dark eyes tracking Clara as she stood near the entrance, looking beautiful but entirely overwhelmed by the massive lace gown.
"You did well today," Ethan said, his voice deep and raspy from hours of talking to investors. "My mother looked convinced, and the media coverage is entirely in our favor. The stocks will open at an all-time high on Monday."
"Is that all this day was to you? A successful corporate launch?" Clara asked softly, looking up at him. The memory of their intense, lingering kiss at the altar was still burning in her mind, making her heart beat erratically.
Ethan walked over, stopping just a few inches away from her. The scent of his cedarwood cologne wrapped around her senses. He looked down at her, his expression guarded. "It was the execution of our agreement, Clara. We both got what we wanted. Your family is secure, and my empire is protected."
"Right. The contract," Clara whispered, looking down at his crisp white shirt. She felt a sudden, sharp pang of disappointment, though she knew she had no right to feel it. "I should... go change and get out of this dress."
She turned to walk toward her bedroom, but the long, heavy train of her wedding gown tangled around her feet. She stumbled forward, a gasp escaping her lips.
Before she could hit the floor, Ethan’s powerful arms wrapped around her waist, catching her instantly. He pulled her flush against his chest, his strong frame anchoring her. Clara’s breath hitched as she looked up, her face just inches away from his.
The air between them turned electric. Ethan’s gaze dropped to her lips, his grip tightening around her waist. For a terrifying, breathless moment, Clara thought he was going to kiss her again—not for the cameras, not for the board, but because he genuinely wanted to.
Ethan’s dark eyes clouded with a sudden, intense heat that burned through his cold exterior. His thumb brushed against the soft fabric of her dress, right above her hip, sending a shiver straight down her spine.
"Careful, Clara," Ethan murmured, his voice low and dangerous, his breath warm against her skin. "The wedding is over, but we still have three hundred and sixty-four days left in this cage."
Clara swallowed hard, her hand resting against his broad chest, feeling the steady, rapid beat of his heart. "I thought you said you don't mix business with pleasure."
Ethan leaned down just a fraction closer, his eyes trapping hers. "I don't. But you are proving to be a very distracting business partner, Mrs. Vance."
With a sudden sharpness, Ethan let go of her and stepped back, pulling his cold mask back in place. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, your training as the official face of the Vance family begins."
Clara stood frozen as he turned and walked into his master bedroom, closing the door behind him. She stood alone in the quiet penthouse, her heart pounding furiously. The contract was signed, the wedding was done, but as she looked at his closed door, she knew the hardest part of this arrangement wasn't going to be the media—it was going to be protecting her own heart from her husband.
- Writer
