Chapter 2
302 Words
The bridal suite was too large, too pristine—its emptiness echoing like fate’s cruel joke. The chandelier glimmered above, casting light on a bed covered in flawless white sheets, untouched and mocking.
Tieu An stood frozen by the door, her fingers twisting the edge of her gown. Her throat tightened as she watched him—the man she had just “married”—coolly loosen his tie.
“Mr. Pho…” she called hesitantly, her voice trembling.
He didn’t turn. His lips curled into a smirk.
“Don’t call me that. I’m not your husband. The woman I married is Lê Tieu Nhi.”
She bit her lip. Her chest ached like something inside was breaking.
Then he turned to face her. His gaze was black ice—bottomless and brutal.
“Do you think wearing a wedding dress gives you any status? That I’ll somehow love you just because you were thrown into this farce?”
The air froze between them. She didn’t dare breathe.
He stepped closer, each stride pressing down on her soul.
“From now on,” he said, gripping her chin and forcing her to meet his eyes, “you’re just a shadow. A substitute. Don’t dream beyond your place.”
Her tears fell. Not from insult—but from the quiet, aching truth.
The moment she put on this dress, her life no longer belonged to herself.
She didn’t resist. She only nodded.
And he turned away, settling on the far couch with icy indifference.
“You sleep on the bed. I have no interest in touching someone else’s replacement.”
The lights went out. He said no more.
In the darkness, Tieu An curled into herself, her tears soaking the pillow.
So this was her wedding night—shrouded in silence and humiliation.
- Writer
