His Deception: A Holiday She Will Never Forget

Chapter 4. Wedding Night

Cristiano guided Siena to sit in the passenger seat as he took the wheel. The moment he started the ignition, the car roared to life and raced down the road, cutting through the night air.

Siena sat in silence, her mind replaying Gino’s words on a loop. He married her to secure the inheritance.

Of course. Why else would he marry her?

He wasn’t in love with her—just like she wasn’t in love with him. It was nothing personal. So it shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t matter.

She took a deep breath and kept her gaze fixed on the passing landscape, though she wasn’t really seeing anything. Her nervous heart refused to settle, unease clawing inside her chest.

She had never stayed away from home before—not without her mother. And now she was supposed to start a new life with a man she barely knew.

It was the scariest thing she had ever done.

And the worst part?

There was no one to tell her how to do it.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t even realize the car had stopped in front of a giant mansion. Cristiano opened the door for her, and she stepped out hesitantly.

He grabbed her hand possessively as he led her straight upstairs, barely giving her a moment to take in the magnificent interior of the house. Then he pushed open the door to a room—and Siena’s eyes widened in shock and admiration.

It was enormous, almost the size of her father’s entire house. A sleek, wall-mounted television stood across from it. One corner held a compact study with bookshelves neatly arranged, while the other had a small coffee table flanked by long leather lounge chairs. Dark furniture, a cold palette of greys and whites, and extra-posh décor all screamed money and raw power—just like the man who owned the room. Siena fought the urge to roll her eyes; it was far too boring for her taste.

Then her gaze landed on the suitcases. Her suitcases. Neatly placed in one corner.

God. She really had to live here now. In his room. Sharing his space.

Her eyes scanned the room again, this time more curiously. Where was she even supposed to keep her things? Had he cleared a drawer for her? Maybe even set aside a wardrobe? Or was she just expected to find a corner and make do?

But then, a sudden touch on her back made her flinch instinctively. Before she could react, her zipper was dragged down in a split second. She spun around, startled—only to find herself already pulled in his arms.

Her breath caught.

“What... what are you doing?” she gasped, her eyes widening in shock.

“It’s our wedding night,” he rasped.

God, that voice. It was so deep, so rough, it made her heart race even faster than it already was from being trapped in his powerful arms.

Without warning, his hand slid up, brushing her dress off one shoulder, leaving her bare. Siena’s breath hitched.

Oh my god. Was this really happening?

Her first time... just like this? No love. No emotion. No connection.

With a man she barely knew—one she didn’t love?

She had never imagined it would be like this. Not even in her worst nightmares.

“Wait... we—we don’t even know each other,” she stammered.

His grey eyes locked onto hers as he replied calmly, “We’re married. I’m your husband.”

Not like this, she wanted to scream. But the moment his lips brushed against her neck, her thoughts scattered, her mind short-circuited.

All she could do was mumble breathlessly, “I... I need some time.”

“We don’t have time,” he said, brushing off her protest as he lifted his head, his cold gaze meeting hers. “We need to produce an heir—soon.”

Her heart stopped.

Huh? What did he mean by we have to produce an heir?

Was she just some kind of baby-making machine to him?

She was only twenty, for heaven’s sake.

Sure, she wanted kids—someday. But not like this. Not so suddenly.

She hadn’t even begun to think about starting a family.

“No, please stop,” she said, pressing a hand against his chest as he scooped her into his arms and walked toward the bed.

“What’s wrong?” he frowned, his eyes narrowing—but all Siena could focus on was how insanely handsome he looked up close, and how that deep, gravelly voice made her core throb without her permission. God, this was too much. Too distracting.

“I’m... I’m not ready for this,” she whispered, biting her lip nervously.

He placed her gently on the mattress, and she watched him with growing anxiety. The lust in his eyes made her heart race with panic. Oh dear God—was he going to force her to fulfill her wifely duties?

But to her surprise, the next moment he stepped away without a word and headed into the walk-in closet.

When he came out, he had changed into comfortable loungewear. Then, without even glancing her way, he walked into the bathroom.

She kept watching him, bewitched by every movement he made.

He walked to the other side of the bed, pulled his gun from the waistband of his lounge pants, and placed it casually on the nightstand, as if it were nothing more than a phone. Then he lay down slowly, tucking one hand behind his head like he hadn’t just unsettled her entirely.

Siena didn’t move. Her body was frozen, her wide, nervous eyes fixed on the gun.

Then came his low, husky murmur, breaking the silence, “Are you planning to sleep in your wedding dress?”

His words snapped her out of the trance. She blinked, then slowly got up. Fumbling through her bags, she somehow managed to find her favorite pajamas—the soft, familiar ones she used to wear back home.

Even with her hands trembling, she clutched the clothes and rushed into the bathroom, doing her best to ignore the storm of nerves building inside her.

By the time she came out, she had prayed he would’ve fallen asleep.

To her relief, when she stepped closer to the bed, his eyes were closed and his breathing steady.

Carefully, she lay down on the empty side of the bed, moving as quietly as she could. She pulled the covers up over her head, as if hiding beneath them could somehow make her invisible.

The next morning, Siena’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, her sleepy mind didn’t register where she was. Then it hit her—this wasn’t her room. She was married now—and in her husband’s home. She stiffened the moment she realized she’d nearly rolled onto his side—her body just inches from his.

She then dared to glance at him. He seemed to be fast asleep.

Carefully, she turned away and slid out of bed. She needed to use the bathroom.

As she padded softly across the room, her eyes caught a glint of metal beside him. The gun. It was lying right there on the nightstand, catching the morning light.

Curiosity killed the cat, they said—but she couldn’t help herself.

She stepped closer, holding her breath, and reached out. Her fingers curled around the cold metal. She lifted it slightly as she silently weighed the risk of even touching it.

And then—before she could even blink—the world spun.

She was yanked back with sudden force and pushed down onto the mattress.

The gun was ripped from her hand and pressed to her temple.