7; The Devil’s Bride
857 Words
The news broke like a thunderclap.
By dawn, Amara’s face was everywhere — on television, social media, and every gossip headline in Manila.
“Billionaire Sebastian Cruz Marries His Nephew’s Ex-Fiancée in Secret Ceremony!”
“From Heartbreak to High Society — Who Is Amara Velasquez?”
“The Cruz Family Feud Takes a Shocking Turn!”
Her phone buzzed endlessly, vibrating across the table until she finally switched it off.
It didn’t matter — the whole city already knew. There was no turning back now.
Amara sat on the edge of her bed, her body stiff, her mind reeling. The ceremony had been simple — a quiet civil wedding in Sebastian’s private penthouse, witnessed only by his lawyer and her trembling hands.
No flowers. No vows. Just signatures and cold champagne.
She hadn’t even had time to process the words “Mrs. Amara Cruz” before the world turned her into a scandal.
⸻
Meanwhile, in the Cruz family mansion, chaos erupted.
“Tell me this is a joke!” Darian Cruz’s voice thundered through the marble halls as he threw the newspaper across the table. “He married her? My ex-fiancée?”
His father, Eduardo Cruz, sat still, jaw tight, his cold eyes fixed on the headline. “Sebastian always did know how to make a statement.”
“This isn’t a statement! It’s war!” Darian spat. “He’s using her to get back at us!”
Eduardo’s lips thinned. “Of course he is. But we can’t afford to react publicly. The board already thinks the family’s unstable. One wrong move, and our stock will drop.”
Darian paced like a caged animal. “He humiliated me, Father. He stole my woman!”
Eduardo’s glare sharpened. “You lost that woman when you tried to trade her kidney for an engagement ring.”
Darian froze, anger flickering into guilt — quickly buried.
“She agreed,” he muttered weakly.
“She was desperate, not stupid,” Eduardo said coldly. “And now she’s under Sebastian’s protection, which makes her untouchable — for now.”
Darian clenched his fists. “Then I’ll find another way.”
Eduardo gave a thin smile. “Do that. But quietly. No blood, no scandals. Sebastian plays chess, not street fights. If you want to win, learn his game.”
⸻
Back in Sebastian’s mansion, Amara stared at her reflection in the mirror.
The silk dress she’d worn for the ceremony hung neatly over a chair — simple, elegant, chosen by Sebastian’s assistant without her input.
She looked the part: calm, collected, untouchable.
But her heart pounded so hard it hurt.
The door opened behind her. She didn’t need to turn to know it was him.
“You’ve seen the headlines,” Sebastian said, his tone unreadable.
“I’ve seen worse,” she murmured.
“Your expression says otherwise.”
Amara turned, arms crossed. “You didn’t warn me it would be this fast. The ink wasn’t even dry.”
Sebastian shrugged. “Timing is everything. The element of surprise keeps the enemy off-balance.”
“I’m not your weapon,” she said sharply.
His eyes flickered, faint amusement curling his lips. “You’re not. You’re my wife.”
The word wife still felt foreign — heavy, unreal. “On paper.”
“Paper changes lives, Mrs. Cruz.”
She exhaled hard. “Don’t call me that.”
He stepped closer, stopping just a breath away. “You’ll have to get used to it. The press already has.”
Her pulse quickened, not from fear — but from something she refused to name.
He was too close, too calm, and too composed for her to feel in control.
“I’ll play my part,” she said quietly, “but this doesn’t mean I trust you.”
Sebastian tilted his head, studying her. “I don’t expect trust. Just performance. Tonight we attend a charity gala — your first appearance as my wife. Smile. Hold my arm. Let them see you’re proud of the deal you made.”
“And if I’m not?” she challenged.
He smiled, slow and wicked. “Then pretend better than I do.”
⸻
That evening, Amara stepped into the grand ballroom of the Valera Hotel — the heart of Manila’s elite.
Dozens of cameras flashed the moment they entered, the golden couple of the hour.
Sebastian’s hand rested lightly on her back — possessive, protective, perfectly staged.
To everyone watching, they were a power couple written in gold.
To her, it was a cage lined with diamonds.
She caught a flash of movement near the bar — and her breath hitched.
Darian.
He was watching her, jaw tight, eyes burning with disbelief and fury.
Their gazes locked across the room — the man who had broken her heart, and the man she’d married to destroy him.
Sebastian noticed. He leaned close, his breath warm against her ear.
“Smile,” he whispered. “The devil’s watching.”
Amara lifted her chin, forcing a radiant smile.
But deep inside, she knew — this wasn’t just revenge anymore.
It was the beginning of a war.
- Writer
