TRAPPED IN THE BILLIONAIRE'S EMBRACE

“Now that the wonderful union is sealed between Evelyn Hart and Lucien Valentino, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now clap your hands!” the official declared with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The words struck Evelyn like a slap to the face. Clap your hands? Her jaw tightened, and a tremble built at the corners of her lips. She blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears clouding her vision, as a hollow silence fell over the grand hall. There was no kiss. No groom. No vows spoken in trembling voices. No exchange of rings between two hearts that had chosen one another freely. Just... her. Standing alone on the altar like a beautifully dressed fool. The pristine white of her wedding gown suddenly felt like a cruel joke, suffocating and heavy against her skin. It hugged her body like it was meant to be admired: perfectly fitted, glittering with crystals, cinched at the waist to accentuate her figure. But right now, it felt more like a costume in a tragedy than the dress of a bride. She lowered her gaze to the diamond ring the priest had placed in her hand earlier, the one that Lucien, her now-husband, was meant to slip onto her finger. The gesture had been mechanical. Formal. Empty. As though she was an object being transferred, a contract sealed with glittering lies and a hollow name. Her fingers clenched around the bouquet of roses, white and purple, carefully chosen for purity and royalty. What bitter irony. She had dreamed of this day once. As a little girl, she used to imagine walking down the aisle to the man she loved, his eyes full of warmth and promise, his hands eager to hold hers. They’d smile at each other, laugh softly at their own nerves, and exchange vows whispered from the heart. He would kiss her, long and deeply, right there in front of the world. Instead, the crowd watched her in hushed confusion, pity dripping from their eyes like acid. Others smirked, whispering behind manicured hands. There were even a few who dared to chuckle, hiding their amusement behind glasses of champagne. Their eyes screamed what no one dared to say aloud: "She got married without a groom. What a disgrace." Evelyn could barely breathe. She turned slowly, walking down the aisle with her head bowed and her heart dragging behind her like dead weight. Each step echoed in her ears, louder than the applause that never came. The train of her gown followed her like a ghost, whispering reminders of the man who should’ve been beside her. "Damn you, Lucien," she cursed silently, her throat tightening. "How dare you humiliate me like this?" The hall, filled with New York’s most powerful elites, had turned into a stage for her humiliation. And at that moment, she wasn’t the stunning bride. She was the joke. “Oh my sweet girl!” a sickeningly sweet voice cooed. She stiffened before she even saw her. Gracia. Her aunt glided toward her, elegance on the outside and venom underneath. Her designer heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she approached, followed by a trail of women with perfectly painted faces and judgment in their eyes. Gracia’s hand landed on Evelyn’s shoulder with mock affection. “Poor little thing. Don’t be sad. Your husband probably had a last-minute business emergency. You know, billionaires don’t exactly run on love.” She chuckled and patted her shoulder again, her smile dripping with cruelty. “But hey, look on the bright side. You got married! Not every girl gets that privilege, even if... well... the groom didn’t show up.” Gracia’s friends behind her burst into giggles like cackling birds. Evelyn didn’t move. She just stared at the floor, her knuckles white around the bouquet. “Oh, and just so you know,” Gracia added, leaning closer, her voice sharp as a dagger. “Don’t expect me to congratulate you, right?” She smiled mockingly. “This marriage? Don’t feel too relaxed. You are coming back home. I will make you.” Evelyn’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Only the taste of shame. Then came Tiffany. Her cousin’s heels clicked sharply, her fitted lilac dress swaying around her like the crown of a cruelty princess. She stopped in front of her with a fake pout and folded arms. “Wow. You really did get married to yourself. Bravo.” She slow-clapped mockingly. “Honestly, I didn’t think it could get any more pathetic, but you somehow outdid yourself, slut.” Evelyn didn’t look at her. She didn’t trust herself not to cry. “And you know what?” Tiffany leaned in, eyes wild with envy. “Don’t get too comfy being Mrs. Valentino. Because Lucien? He’s mine. I’m going to take what belongs to me, and you’ll be right back where you started. Alone. Forgotten. Replaced.” Evelyn looked up then, finally meeting her cousin’s eyes. There was no rage. Just exhaustion. “I won’t tolerate you insulting me on my big day, Tiffany,” she whispered. “You obviously know that I didn’t beg to carry this name. His family wants me, not you.” Evelyn said as she shoved past her roughly and walked away. Tiffany’s eyes narrowed in fury. “Crazy b***h! How dare you?” She almost grabbed Eve from behind, but Gracia caught her hand. “You can’t cause a scene here, baby. People are watching. Don’t worry, it’s not over,” Gracia said softly as Tiffany glared hard at her. “All of this wouldn’t be happening if you had made sure to stop their marriage earlier! I would have been the one carrying his name now,” Tiffany snapped, then stormed out of the hall angrily as Gracia sighed tiredly. “Tiffany, you should have faith in your mother. This marriage isn’t going to work out...” she said as she went after her. Evelyn went outside the hall. The wedding was a private one, with only close friends and relatives from both families present. Friends from her family and Lucien’s family came to congratulate her. She knew some had actually come to make fun of her, especially Gracia’s friends, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to go somewhere she could take this embarrassing dress off her body. She was just happy that she was finally going to gain her freedom from her wicked aunt and cousin. That was her happiness right now. At least this marriage was to her advantage and the only way to break the bondage of her suffering. That’s what she thought of this marriage. Her parents had left her with no choice. Orphans after they died in a car accident on their way back from a friend's wedding when she was 7. Since then she had been living with her aunt and her family, who treated her like a slave in her own house. The mansion they lived in was actually her parents' own. Even the companies Mrs. Gracia claimed were hers were actually her dad’s. Aunt Gracia and their family had moved in a week after the accident. It was as if she had been waiting patiently for the moment when she could take over all the properties. The problem was that Evelyn didn’t know the reason why they treated her like that. Before, she was desperate to know. But now? She didn’t care. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t enough for her to be treated so awfully. She had only learned about this marriage a week ago, and she was grateful for it. It was the only card left for her to empower herself, to gain enough power to take them down and make them regret it. This marriage was arranged by their families. Years ago, Lucien’s father had saved her father’s company from bankruptcy, and this union was the price. “Thank you,” she smiled at each of them until Mr. and Mrs. Valentino, Lucien’s parents, approached her with warm smiles that didn’t quite hide their discomfort. “My sweet daughter-in-law,” Mrs. Valentino said, pulling her into a hug. “I’m so sorry, darling. We were just as shocked as you were. Lucien... he’s difficult. He’s never been good with emotions. Please don’t take today personally.” Evelyn returned the hug numbly, her voice soft. “It’s okay, ma’am. I understand.” She didn’t. But what else could she say? “You’ll learn to handle him,” Mr. Valentino added with a confident chuckle. “He just needs time. Once he sees how amazing you are, he’ll come around.” Evelyn smiled weakly. “I hope so.” “Trust us, Evelyn. You won’t regret marrying him.” As they turned to leave, she stood frozen, watching their luxury car disappear through the gates. Trust us, Evelyn. She scoffed inwardly. How could she trust a promise built on ruins? A sudden movement pulled her out of her thoughts A group of tall, suited men walked toward her with purposeful strides. One of them, sharp-jawed and polite, stopped just before her. “Congratulations, Mrs. Valentino,” he said with a slight bow. “I’m Jameson, Mr. Lucien’s personal driver. He has sent us to escort you home.” Home. The word didn’t feel like hers. She forced a tight smile. “Thank you, Jameson. But… please, call me Eve.” “As you wish,” he replied gently. “Shall we go?” She nodded, her feet moving on their own as she walked between the guards, their protective formation reminding her of the power she’d just been tethered to. She glanced back once, taking in the grand hall that had mocked her heart. That chapter was over now. She was no longer the girl bullied by her supposed family. She was a woman bound in chains of wealth, secrets, and a name that could either destroy her or set her free. Mrs. Valentino. The billionaire’s wife. And this... this was just the beginning.