Bound By Vows

Chapter Four – Pretend Lovers

A week later

“Hold still.”

Vincent Dorian helped her adjust the lace at her shoulder as she made to wriggle away. His fingers brushed her bare skin, and she hated how it sent zaps down her spine.

Aria stared at herself in the courthouse mirror, lips parted.

The wedding dress was simple. It was ivory silk clinging to her body, modest in cut yet merciless in fit. It hugged the curve of her waist, skimmed her hips, and spilled in a clean line to the floor. It complemented her auburn hair which she was wearing in a low knot today.

Aria looked beautiful.

Vincent, beside her, was carved in contrast. He was dressed in an obsidian suit tailored so sharply it looked like it might cut. His tie was charcoal, his pocket square a whisper of silver.

“Perfect,” he said, though it sounded more like a verdict than a compliment.

Aria narrowed her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not marrying me, you’re buying me.”

His mouth tilted further. “Technicalities.”

The words struck like a brand, but before she could retort, the doors opened, and the small courthouse filled with people.

Paparazzi poured in like wolves scenting blood, their cameras flashing in manic bursts. The clerk at the desk looked overwhelmed, mumbling through vows neither of them paid attention to.

“Do you accept this man as your husband under the state laws of the United States of America?”

“I do,” Aria repeated the words in clipped tones, the vows falling like shards of glass from her tongue.

Vincent did the same and soon, she was asked to sign. The wedding was officially over and she was married.

And then she saw them.

Adrian Dorian entered first, his boyish smile lighting the dull courthouse. He was handsome in an open, disarming way, with soft eyes that felt foreign to Aria in this room. His arm was looped with hers—Lilith Bloom.

Lilith glided in like a queen arriving at her coronation. She wore champagne silk, her golden hair cascading in glossy waves. Even her smile was at the perfect angle for the cameras. She kissed Adrian’s cheek sweetly, then turned to Vincent and Aria with a feline curl of her lips.

“Well, well,” Lilith said loudly enough for the press to catch. “Vincent, you’ve outdone yourself. I didn’t think you had it in you to settle down… much less with…” Her piercing eyes raked over Aria from head to toe, purposely pausing on the faint scar visible on her face. “With someone… unpolished.”

The jab sliced through Aria and she folded her hands into fists. She heard laughter rippling through the crowd of photographers.

Adrian’s brow furrowed. “Lilith…” he murmured, clearly embarrassed.

But Aria didn’t flinch. She stepped forward. “You’re right, Lilith. I’m not polished. I don’t shine like glass for cameras. But that’s the difference between us, isn’t it?”

Lilith blinked, caught off guard. Aria’s smile sharpened. “Glass cracks under pressure. Diamonds don’t.”

The cameras exploded. A murmur ran through the crowd as if they’d just witnessed a duel. Adrian looked startled, then impressed. Vincent, at her side, chuckled low for anyone but her to hear.

“Nicely played, wife,” he murmured against her ear, lips grazing close enough to make her pulse jump.

Aria’s insides twisted, but she didn’t let it show. She tilted her chin, savoring the way Lilith’s perfect smile faltered for just a fraction of a second before snapping back into place.

Paparazzi clamored for more. They yelled, “Kiss the bride!” and before she could refuse, Vincent’s hand cupped her jaw. His mouth met hers in a kiss that was supposed to be for show.

But it wasn’t. Her eyes were closed as she kissed him back, her nerves doing a hula hoop dance. Strangely, she realized that she’d been anticipating his kiss all along.

The photographs would be on every cover by nightfall.

*****

The ride to the family estate was suffocating.

Aria pressed against the car door, glaring out the window. Rain sheeted down the glass, turning the city into watercolor streaks. Vincent sat beside her, calm as ever, fingers scrolling through his phone as if nothing monumental had occurred.

“You invited them,” she snapped suddenly. “Lilith tried to humiliate me—”

“And you humiliated her instead.” His mouth curved faintly. “Which is exactly what I wanted. How else are we to introduce you to the family?”

“You never said we’d be living with them in the same house. Did you forget to mention that?”

He sighed and c****d his head to the side. “Haven't you heard the saying, keep your friends close and your enemies, closer? Lilth and Adrian are also staying at the estate, so you won’t be lonely. Besides that’s why we got married, right? To find dirt on Lilth. How can you do so if you’re far away?"

Her nails dug into her palms. “You’re playing chess with people’s lives.”

“And you’re the queen on my board,” Vincent said softly, eyes glinting. “Don’t forget that.”

The estate was like something out of a Victorian novel. It was a satisfying mix of modern and old architecture. Aria was amazed because she didn’t think something like this was in Manhattan.

Aria’s heels clicked against the tiles as she followed him inside.

“This is where you’ll live,” Vincent said, discarding his tie on a console table. “The third door on the left is your suite. Don’t wander where you’re not wanted.”

Aria lifted her chin. “Don’t worry. I have no interest in your mausoleum.”

She found the room easily. It was immaculate, scented with fresh flowers, robes lay neatly on the bed. She shut the door behind her, finally alone.

Her reflection stared back from the mirrored closet doors. The diamond ring on her finger glinted like a shackle. She stripped the dress off, fingers trembling, and stepped into the steaming bath someone had drawn for her. Water lapped over her skin, and she thought that maybe this life wasn’t so bad after all.

By the time she crawled into bed, exhaustion dragged at her bones. The sheets were cool, smelling faintly of cedar and smoke. Her eyelids fluttered closed.

“Tired already?” Vincent asked. Vincent leaned against the door frame, tie gone, shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal the strong cut of his chest.

Aria sat up straight, no longer sleepy. She was too distracted by the hard carve of his chest, and the tattoos drawn on it. f**k, he was sexy.

“Why…are you sleeping here?” She heard herself ask.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He was brazenly flirting with her.

“No. Go to your room. I was only wondering why you’re here.” Aria retorted quickly. For a brief moment, she had imagined sleeping beside him, and it didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“Liar….” He smiled at her, then bit his lower lip. “I was only making sure you were okay, and then found the door open. For a minute there, I thought you ran away.”

Aria scoffed. “I don’t like you, but I like the idea of having five million dollars, Mr Dorain.”

“You should lock your door, wife,” he teased, fully aware that she was staring, as he turned to leave.