Married To A Stranger

Chapter 2

Shaina’s Point of View

The air inside the limousine felt heavy, pressing against my chest like a weight I couldn't shake off. My fingers twisted the hem of my dress as I stared blankly out the window. Today was my wedding day.

A wedding without love. A wedding without choice.

I glanced down at the elegant white gown hugging my body, but instead of feeling beautiful, I felt suffocated. This dress wasn’t a symbol of happiness—it was a shackle, chaining me to a fate I never agreed to.

The car ride was silent, except for the occasional deep breaths I took, trying to calm my nerves. Every passing second brought me closer to the Whitley estate, closer to the man I had never met but was expected to marry.

A man with a face no one had seen.

My stomach twisted at the thought. The rumors surrounding my future husband weren’t comforting. Some said he was deformed, others claimed he was cruel and unlovable. But what scared me the most was the unknown. Who was he? And why had he agreed to this marriage?

My thoughts were interrupted when the limousine suddenly stopped in front of the grand Whitley mansion. The sight of it alone was overwhelming—tall iron gates, a perfectly manicured garden, and a house so massive it could swallow my mother’s entire estate.

Before I could gather my courage, the car door swung open.

"Oh, finally, the bride has arrived."

I didn’t need to look up to recognize that mocking voice.

Sofia.

She stood by the entrance in a fitted red dress that clung to her body, her arms crossed as she watched me with a smirk. The color of her outfit was deliberate—she wanted to stand out, to make it clear that she didn’t see me as the star of the day.

I stepped out of the car, forcing myself to keep my expression blank. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

"You look…" Sofia tilted her head, eyes raking over me from head to toe before letting out a fake sigh. "Well, let’s just say, white isn’t exactly your color. But I suppose even a forced bride should at least try to look presentable."

I clenched my fists but said nothing. Arguing with her wouldn’t change anything.

"Enough, Sofia," a stern voice cut in.

I turned to see an older woman standing at the entrance. She was tall, her graying hair tied into a neat bun, her sharp eyes assessing me with a mixture of curiosity and disapproval.

"You must be Shaina," she said. "I’m Margaret, the head maid of the Whitley household. Follow me."

Ignoring Sofia’s amused gaze, I nodded and trailed after Margaret, stepping into the grand mansion. The moment I entered, the overwhelming luxury nearly made me dizzy. The chandelier above sparkled like diamonds, the marble floors reflected my hesitant steps, and the air smelled of expensive perfume and power.

Everything about this place screamed wealth.

And now, it was supposed to be my home.

I barely had time to take it all in before Margaret stopped in front of a massive wooden door. My heartbeat quickened.

"He’s waiting inside," she said.

Sofia let out a low chuckle behind me. "Try not to scream when you see him, sis."

I ignored her, swallowing the lump in my throat as I placed my trembling hand on the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.

The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the large window at the far end. A man stood there, his back turned to me, his hands tucked into his pockets.

My heart pounded.

"Close the door," his voice was deep and calm, but there was something distant about it, something unreadable.

I obeyed, my fingers trembling slightly as I turned to face him. "I—I’m Shaina," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Slowly, he turned around.

My breath hitched.

He wasn’t deformed. He wasn’t monstrous. In fact, he was strikingly handsome. Sharp jawline, deep-set eyes, and an expression so cold it sent a chill down my spine.

This was my husband.

And I had no idea what I had just gotten myself into.