Thorns And Silk

Chapter 3 — Bruised Gold

Aria's POV

“Stop moving.”

Elena’s sharp voice sliced through the dressing room while another woman curled sections of my hair painfully tight against my scalp.

I flinched slightly.

The stylist sighed dramatically. “If she keeps twitching, I’ll have to start over.”

“Then start over,” Elena replied coldly. “Today is already embarrassing enough.”

I lowered my gaze to my lap silently.

The bridal suite inside the Voss estate looked beautiful in the cruelest way possible. White roses decorated every surface. Expensive champagne chilled near the windows. Gold satin curtains framed the room in soft sunlight while women moved around me adjusting makeup, jewelry, and layers of fabric as though preparing a porcelain doll for display.

Not a bride.

A transaction.

My wedding dress tightened painfully around my ribs every time I breathed. Elena had chosen it personally—a fitted ivory gown covered in delicate lace and crystals that sparkled beneath the lights like shattered glass.

Beautiful things hurt the most.

I had learned that young.

The makeup artist tilted my chin upward gently. “Your concealer is fading near the cheekbone.”

My stomach twisted instantly.

I reached toward my face automatically.

The bruise.

Sebastian had slapped me the night before after hearing I fainted in front of Dante.

“You humiliated this family,” he had hissed before backhanding me hard enough to split the inside of my lip.

I still tasted blood when I swallowed.

Elena noticed my movement and narrowed her eyes. “Leave it alone.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“God,” she muttered in disgust. “Do you know how pathetic you sound constantly apologizing like that?”

Heat burned behind my eyes.

I stared down harder at my hands.

The door suddenly opened.

Sebastian walked inside without knocking.

Every muscle in my body immediately locked.

He smirked the moment he saw me sitting there in the wedding dress.

“Well,” he drawled slowly, “don’t you clean up nicely?”

The women around me exchanged uncomfortable glances before quietly leaving the room one by one.

Cowards.

But I understood.

Nobody challenged Sebastian Voss.

Not if they wanted to survive.

The door shut behind them softly.

Silence filled the room instantly.

I stopped breathing properly.

Sebastian walked closer slowly while adjusting the cuffs of his black suit. “You know,” he murmured, “I almost can’t believe Dante actually agreed to this.”

I kept my eyes lowered.

“Look at me.”

I obeyed immediately.

Fear had trained obedience too deeply into my bones.

His fingers suddenly gripped my chin painfully hard.

“You should feel grateful,” he said softly. “Do you understand how lucky you are?”

Lucky.

The word nearly made me laugh.

Instead I whispered, “Yes.”

His eyes darkened slightly.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why do you look terrified?”

Because I am.

Because men like you taught me fear before I even learned what safety felt like.

But I said none of it.

Sebastian studied my face quietly before his expression twisted with irritation.

“You know what your problem is, Aria?” he muttered. “You always look so damn broken.”

The insult landed exactly where he intended.

I swallowed hard.

His hand suddenly slid from my chin down toward my throat.

Panic exploded instantly inside my chest.

I jerked backward before I could stop myself.

Sebastian’s face darkened dangerously.

“Don’t,” I whispered.

The room became deadly quiet.

Then—

The slap cracked across my face violently.

Pain burst through my cheek as I stumbled sideways against the vanity table, sending makeup brushes scattering across the floor.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” Sebastian hissed.

My ears rang painfully.

I pressed trembling fingers against my burning cheek while fighting tears.

Crying only made things worse.

Always.

Sebastian grabbed my wrist roughly before yanking me upright again.

“You belong to this family until the ceremony is complete,” he snarled softly near my ear. “Don’t forget that.”

His grip tightened directly over old bruises.

I bit down hard on my lip to stop the sound threatening to escape.

Then suddenly—

“Sir,” a nervous servant interrupted from outside the door, “the guests have arrived.”

Sebastian released me instantly.

I nearly collapsed from relief.

He adjusted his suit calmly as though nothing happened before looking at me one last time.

“Fix your face,” he ordered coldly. “You’re about to marry a king.”

The door slammed behind him seconds later.

And the moment he left—

I broke.

A shaky breath escaped my chest while tears blurred my vision completely.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

Perfect white dress.

Diamond earrings.

Split lip.

Bruised cheek hidden beneath powder.

I looked like gold wrapped around damage.

Dante's POV

Weddings were tedious.

Too many people.

Too much noise.

Too many fake smiles hiding dangerous intentions.

I stood near the cathedral entrance adjusting the cuffs of my black suit while Marco grinned beside me like an i***t.

“You look thrilled,” he remarked.

“I’d rather be shot.”

“That can still be arranged.”

Luca approached us seconds later with his usual expression of permanent irritation. “Security is in position.”

“Any movement from rival families?”

“Nothing unusual.”

I nodded once.

The church bells echoed softly outside while guests filled the cathedral in expensive designer clothing and diamonds worth more than most people’s houses.

Politicians.

Criminals.

Murderers pretending to be respectable businessmen.

The usual.

Marco nudged my shoulder suddenly. “You nervous?”

“No.”

“You’re getting married.”

“I’m signing a contract.”

Marco laughed under his breath. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Before I could answer, the music inside the cathedral shifted.

The ceremony was beginning.

I turned toward the aisle slowly.

And forgot how to breathe for a second.

Aria stood at the entrance beside Viktor wearing an ivory gown that made her look almost unreal beneath the church lights.

Beautiful.

Painfully beautiful.

But it wasn’t the dress that held my attention.

It was her face.

Too pale.

Eyes dull with exhaustion.

And beneath the makeup—

Fresh bruising.

A dangerous silence settled inside my chest instantly.

Viktor noticed where I was looking and shifted uncomfortably.

Good.

Aria slowly began walking down the aisle.

Every step looked forced.

Like a prisoner approaching execution.

The sight irritated me more than it should have.

Marco muttered quietly beside me, “Jesus.”

Luca’s jaw tightened. “That bruise wasn’t there yesterday.”

No.

It wasn’t.

By the time Aria finally reached me, her hands were trembling badly enough for the flowers to shake visibly.

She wouldn’t look at me.

Not once.

The priest began speaking, but I barely heard him.

Because anger had already started spreading slowly beneath my skin.

Someone touched her again.

Despite my warning.

The realization sat badly in my chest.

Very badly.

“Do you, Dante Castellano—”

“Yes.”

The priest blinked slightly.

A few guests laughed softly.

I didn’t care.

The ceremony continued while Aria remained silent beside me.

Lost somewhere far away inside herself.

Dissociating.

I recognized the signs immediately.

My mother used to disappear like that too.

Present physically.

Gone mentally.

“Miss Voss?”

Aria startled faintly.

The priest smiled awkwardly. “Your vows.”

She swallowed hard.

“I do,” she whispered so quietly it barely reached the front rows.

The rings were exchanged seconds later.

Her fingers felt ice cold against mine.

The priest smiled warmly. “You may kiss the bride.”

The entire cathedral waited.

Aria froze beside me instantly.

Panic flashed across her face.

Interesting.

I studied her silently for one brief moment before placing my hand gently against the side of her jaw.

Her entire body tensed.

But I didn’t kiss her mouth.

Instead, I brushed my lips softly against her forehead.

A quiet murmur spread through the cathedral immediately.

Shock.

Confusion.

Marco nearly choked trying not to laugh.

But Aria…

Aria looked up at me like she didn’t understand what had just happened.

Good.

Let her wonder.

Aria's POV

The Castellano estate looked like something pulled from another world.

Massive iron gates.

Black luxury cars.

Armed guards stationed everywhere.

The mansion itself towered against the darkening evening sky surrounded by fountains and endless gardens lit with golden lights.

Beautiful.

Cold.

Terrifying.

I sat silently inside the car beside Dante while my wedding bouquet rested forgotten in my lap.

Married.

The word still didn’t feel real.

Dante had barely spoken during the drive.

Not that I minded.

Silence felt safer.

The car finally stopped near the mansion entrance where several staff members waited neatly in line.

My stomach twisted painfully.

More strangers.

More people watching me.

Dante exited first before opening my door himself.

I hesitated.

Fear tightened around my ribs again.

His dark eyes met mine calmly.

“You’re safe,” he said quietly.

Safe.

The word felt impossible.

Still… I stepped out.

The staff immediately bowed their heads respectfully.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Castellano.”

Home.

I nearly flinched.

A warm older woman suddenly stepped forward with kind eyes and silver-streaked hair.

“Oh, tesoro,” she said softly while looking at me. “You’re freezing.”

Before I could react, she gently wrapped a shawl around my shoulders.

The softness of the gesture stunned me speechless.

“I’m Rosa,” she continued warmly. “I take care of everyone in this house.”

I stared at her in confusion.

Why was she being kind?

Rosa’s expression softened further as though she noticed my panic. “You must be exhausted.”

“I…” My voice came out shaky. “Thank you.”

Dante watched the interaction silently.

“Prepare the east wing,” he instructed calmly.

Rosa nodded immediately. “Of course.”

As we walked inside the mansion, my anxiety worsened with every step.

The house was enormous.

Dark marble floors.

Crystal chandeliers.

Paintings framed in gold.

Everything looked elegant enough to belong in a museum.

I felt horribly out of place.

Dante noticed when I slowed near the staircase.

“What is it?”

“I don’t…” I hesitated nervously. “I don’t know the rules here.”

A strange look crossed his face briefly.

Then he said quietly, “You don’t need permission to exist in this house.”

The words hit me harder than they should have.

My throat tightened painfully.

Because all my life, existence had always required permission.

Dante

She looked terrified of touching anything.

That realization followed me upstairs while Rosa showed Aria toward the bedroom prepared for her.

Our bedroom.

The thought sat strangely in my mind.

Marco appeared beside me with a whiskey glass in hand. “She’s pretty.”

I gave him a flat look.

“I have eyes,” he defended.

“She’s not for you.”

His grin widened immediately. “Possessive already.”

I ignored him.

But later that night, after the staff finally settled and silence consumed the mansion, I stood outside the bedroom door for several seconds before entering quietly.

Aria sat on the edge of the massive bed still wearing part of her wedding jewelry.

Her posture stiffened immediately when she saw me.

Fear again.

Always fear.

Interesting how much I hated seeing it directed at me.

“You should sleep,” I said calmly.

She nodded quickly. “Okay.”

Neither of us moved.

The tension in the room thickened.

Aria’s fingers twisted nervously in her lap. “I understand,” she whispered suddenly.

“What?”

Her voice became smaller. “This marriage.”

Realization settled instantly.

She thought I expected something tonight.

Christ.

I watched her carefully.

She looked pale enough to faint again.

Terrified enough to cry.

Waiting for duty.

Submission.

Pain.

Something cold and ugly moved through my chest.

“Get under the blankets, Aria.”

Confusion flickered across her face.

“That’s all?”

“Yes.”

She hesitated before slowly sliding beneath the blankets.

Still watching me nervously.

I removed my suit jacket calmly before walking toward the couch near the fireplace.

Aria blinked rapidly. “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“On the couch?”

“Yes.”

“But… why?”

The genuine confusion in her voice nearly made me laugh.

I loosened the collar of my shirt slightly before meeting her wide eyes.

“Because contrary to popular belief,” I said quietly, “I’m not interested in touching a woman who’s afraid of me.”

Silence.

Aria stared at me like she didn’t know how to process the words.

Then slowly—

Very slowly—

Some of the fear left her eyes for the first time.

And somehow that felt far too satisfying.