ChapteFour:TheBrideHeChose
1053 Words
The drive to the cathedral passed in a blur.
I sat beside Father, my hands folded tightly over the ivory satin of my wedding gown. Every layer of lace felt heavier than the last, as though the dress itself had been stitched together with chains instead of silk.
Father couldn’t stop smiling.
He spoke excitedly about the guests, the press waiting outside, and how today would restore the Morel family’s reputation. Every word felt like another reminder that this wedding had never been about me.
I nodded when expected.
Smiled when necessary.
Inside, I was falling apart.
Images of Lucien Laurent filled my mind—his piercing gray eyes, his unnerving calm, the way he had looked at me as though the decision had been made long before anyone bothered asking for my opinion.
He hadn’t begged.
He hadn’t threatened.
He had simply chosen me.
And everyone else had obeyed.
The limousine slowed to a stop outside the cathedral.
My heartbeat thundered against my ribs.
Father turned toward me with tears shining in his eyes.
“You look beautiful, Evelina,” he whispered. “Your mother would have been so proud.”
The words should have comforted me.
Instead, guilt twisted painfully inside my chest.
“I’m ready,” I lied.
The cathedral doors opened.
Warm sunlight spilled across the marble floor as music echoed through the enormous hall. Hundreds of guests turned toward me, rising from their seats.
I barely noticed them.
My eyes found only one man.
Lucien.
Standing before the altar in a perfectly tailored black suit, he looked every bit the powerful businessman the world admired. Calm. Elegant. Untouchable.
Yet there was something unsettling about the way he watched me.
He didn’t smile.
He didn’t wave.
His gaze remained fixed on mine with quiet certainty, as if he had already memorized every expression I could possibly wear.
As though I already belonged to him.
Father squeezed my hand before placing it into Lucien’s.
His fingers wrapped around mine.
Warm.
Steady.
Firm enough to keep me from pulling away, yet gentle enough not to frighten me in front of the guests.
The ceremony began.
The priest’s voice faded into meaningless echoes.
I couldn’t remember a single prayer.
Couldn’t remember breathing.
I only knew that every few seconds, I felt Lucien looking at me.
Not with affection.
Not with lust.
But with an unreadable intensity that made my stomach tighten.
“…Do you, Lucien Laurent, take Evelina Morel to be your lawful wife?”
“I do.”
Without hesitation.
Without doubt.
The priest turned to me.
“And do you, Evelina Morel…”
The words caught in my throat.
For one impossible second, I considered saying no.
Running.
Screaming.
Anything.
Then Father’s hopeful face flashed across my mind.
The debt.
The family.
Everything resting on this moment.
“I… do.”
The words tasted like surrender.
A chorus of applause erupted as the priest smiled warmly.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
My entire body went rigid.
This was the moment I had feared most.
Lucien stepped closer.
Close enough for only me to hear him breathe.
His hand rose slowly to my face.
I shut my eyes.
Instead of claiming my lips, his mouth brushed softly against my right cheek…
Then my left.
The kisses were light.
Respectful.
Unexpected.
When I looked at him in confusion, the faintest smile touched the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t take what isn’t freely given,” he murmured so quietly only I could hear.
Before I could process his words, he turned us toward the applauding crowd.
To everyone watching, we looked like the perfect newlyweds.
Only I knew I had just stepped into a prison with golden walls.
The drive from the cathedral was silent.
Neither of us spoke.
Enzo drove while Lucien sat beside me, scrolling through messages on his phone with effortless composure.
How could he be so calm?
Didn’t he realize he’d just destroyed my life?
Or perhaps he knew…
And simply didn’t care.
I stared through the tinted window as desperate thoughts collided inside my head.
I had to escape.
If I waited until we reached his estate, I might never get another opportunity.
Every kilometer carried me farther from the life I knew.
Farther from freedom.
My throat felt dry.
“I… need to use the restroom.”
Lucien lifted his eyes from the phone.
He studied me for a long moment before speaking.
“Enzo.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Pull over at the next service road.”
A few minutes later, the vehicle stopped beside a stretch of woodland.
Lucien opened the door for me himself.
“Enzo will go with you.”
I forced a nervous smile.
“I understand.”
Enzo followed several steps behind as we walked deeper between the trees.
When we were far enough from the road, I stopped.
“Could you… give me just a little privacy?”
He hesitated before turning around.
It was all the opportunity I needed.
My fingers closed around a heavy stone lying near my feet.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Before I could lose my courage, I swung it.
The rock struck the back of his head.
Enzo collapsed instantly.
My hands trembled violently.
For several seconds, I simply stared at him.
Had I…
No.
He was breathing.
Relief rushed through me.
Working quickly, I searched his jacket.
A pistol.
My heart nearly stopped.
I slipped it beneath the torn folds of my gown before taking several shaky breaths.
Then another idea formed.
If Lucien saw me returning unharmed, he would know something was wrong.
With trembling fingers, I ripped part of my wedding skirt against a thorn bush.
Dragged dirt across my arms.
Pulled loose strands of hair from their elegant style.
When I finally stumbled back toward the waiting car, I looked every bit like a terrified bride who had barely escaped an attack.
Lucien was already outside.
The moment his eyes landed on me, his expression changed for the first time that day.
Concern.
Sharp.
Instant.
His gaze swept over my torn dress, tangled hair, and dirt-streaked face before hardening into something dangerously cold.
“Evelina…”
His voice was quiet.
Too quiet.
“Where is Enzo?”
- Writer
