Arrogant Bride

Wedding Planner

Sophia stared at the seating chart in front of her, the intricately detailed layout spread across the glossy oak table in Ethan’s penthouse. It was absurdly luxurious, from floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city and furniture that looked more like art than something you’d dare to sit on. But no amount of opulence could make up for the fact that she was trapped in the most suffocating task of her life planning a wedding she didn’t want with a man she didn’t love.

“You can’t be serious about this,” Sophia said, tossing the chart onto the table.

Ethan, seated across from her, raised a brow as he flipped through another set of papers.

“What now?”

“The guest list,” she said, jabbing a manicured finger at the chart. “Half of these people are strangers. Why are there diplomats, CEOs, and oh, look a royal family? Are we hosting a summit or a wedding?”

Ethan set the papers down and leaned back in his chair, his expression annoyingly calm. “This isn’t just a wedding, Sophia. It’s a business event. These are the people who will solidify our partnership’s credibility. Their presence is non-negotiable.”

Sophia let out a frustrated laugh, throwing her hands up. “Oh, of course. How silly of me to think a wedding might actually be about the bride and groom.”

“Bride and groom?”

Both Sophia and Ethan turned as a tall woman swept into the room, a vision of precision in a tailored cream suit and a clipboard clutched to her chest. Her blonde hair was pinned back in an elegant twist, and her sharp eyes sparkled with purpose.

“Ah, you must be the happy couple!” she exclaimed, her tone bright enough to rival the morning sun.

Sophia groaned inwardly.

“I’m Penelope Myers,” the woman continued, holding out her hand. “Your wedding planner. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both!”

“Finally?” Sophia asked, shaking Penelope’s hand reluctantly. “We didn’t hire you.”

“Oh, Ethan did,” Penelope said with a smile that didn’t faulter. “He wanted everything to be perfect for his lovely fiancée.”

Sophia shot Ethan a glare, and he gave her a faint smirk in return.

“I thought it best to leave the details to a professional,” Ethan said smoothly.

“Details?” Sophia echoed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “How considerate of you, darling.”

Penelope clapped her hands together, either oblivious to the tension or choosing to ignore it. “Well, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover! Dress fittings, cake tastings, venue visits… Oh, and I’ve taken the liberty of booking the Grand Celeste Hotel for the ceremony. It’s the most exclusive venue in the city—absolutely perfect for a power couple like you two.”

Sophia’s head spun. “I—wait—what if I don’t want the Grand Celeste?”

Penelope blinked as if the suggestion were preposterous. “Why wouldn’t you? It’s the epitome of luxury.”

Sophia opened her mouth to argue, but Ethan cut in.

“The Grand Celeste is fine,” he said, his tone final.

Sophia turned to him, her temper flaring. “Don’t I get a say in any of this?”

Ethan’s gaze met hers, calm but firm. “You wanted to plan the wedding, didn’t you? Here’s your chance. Choose the flowers, the colors, the music—whatever you like. But the venue stays.”

Sophia clenched her fists, the urge to throw something at him almost overpowering.

“Wonderful!” Penelope said, oblivious to the silent war raging between them. “Now, let’s talk about the guest list. I see we’ve got a fantastic mix of business leaders and socialites, but we’ll need to finalize the seating arrangements soon. Any special requests?”

“Yes,” Sophia said, crossing her arms. “No strangers at my table.”

Penelope’s smile faltered slightly. “I’ll… see what I can do.”

Ethan leaned forward, his tone deceptively casual. “Penelope, why don’t you leave the chart with us? We’ll go over it in detail and get back to you.”

Penelope brightened again. “Of course! I’ll step out and let you two lovebirds discuss.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, Sophia rounded on Ethan.

“Lovebirds?” she hissed. “Do you ever stop controlling everything?”

Ethan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not controlling everything. I’m managing expectations.”

“Call it whatever you want,” Sophia snapped. “You don’t get to bulldoze through my life without consequences.”

He stood, his tall frame towering over her as he leaned on the table. “And you don’t get to sabotage this deal because you’re too stubborn to play along. You think I enjoy this any more than you do?”

Sophia faltered, caught off guard by the flash of frustration in his voice. For a moment, she saw a crack in his perfect, composed exterior.

“This wedding isn’t about us,” Ethan continued, his voice low. “It’s about survival. For your family, for mine. So either learn to compromise, or watch everything your father built crumble.”

Sophia stared at him, her anger battling with the undeniable truth in his words. Finally, she grabbed the seating chart and dropped it into his hands.

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “But don’t expect me to smile through it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Ethan replied, his tone dry.

As she stormed out of the room, Sophia’s heart pounded with a mixture of fury and something else—something she refused to name. Ethan Cross might have won this round, but she wasn’t about to make things easy for him.

Not now. Not ever.