Chapter 5: Mrs.Black
1320 Words
Lena’s POV
Three days.
I only had that much time before I became Mrs. Damian Black.
I looked at the countdown on my phone. It didn’t feel like enough time.
Just a few days ago, all I could think about was my mother’s hospital bills.
Now I was planning a wedding.
My wedding.
To a man I barely knew.
My phone rang.
“Ava,” I answered.
“You sound tired.”
“I am tired.”
“Good. Because I need you to come with me after work.”
“Where?”
“Wedding things.”
“I don’t even know what wedding things we need.”
“That is exactly why you need me.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Not even a little.”
She paused.
“Okay, maybe a little.”
I laughed softly.
For the rest of the afternoon, I focused on work.
Being engaged to Damian Black didn’t mean I could stop being a lawyer.
I needed the distraction.
At six, I shut my laptop and found Ava waiting outside.
Her eyes immediately went to my ring.
“You’re really doing this.”
“I am.”
“You can still run.”
“I know.”
“And?”
I looked down at the ring.
“My mother still needs treatment.”
Ava’s expression softened.
She didn’t argue.
Instead, she linked her arm through mine.
“Then let’s make sure you at least look good while you’re making questionable life choices.”
I laughed.
“That’s your way of being supportive?”
“It’s the best I’ve got.”
The next two days passed quickly.
There were fittings, phone calls, documents and arrangements.
Damian’s staff handled most of them.
The venue was booked.
The photographer was chosen.
Even my wedding dress had been selected.
When I complained about it, Damian’s response was simple.
“Everything is already arranged.”
Of course, it was.
Damian Black was the kind of man who liked to have everything planned.
The night before the wedding, I sat on my bed staring at the dress hanging beside the window.
It was beautiful.
Elegant.
Expensive.
But it didn’t feel like mine.
My phone buzzed.
Mom.
I answered immediately.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Are you awake?”
“I’ve been awake for a while.”
“I wish I could be there.”
My chest tightened.
“You don’t have to worry about that.”
“I know. But you’re my daughter.
I should be watching you get married.”
“You’ll still see everything. I’ll send you pictures.”
She laughed softly.
“I’ve already seen the dress.”
I frowned.
“How?”
“Your friend sent me one.”
“Ava.”
“She’s a good girl.”
“She talks too much.”
Mom laughed, then coughed.
The sound immediately wiped the smile from my face.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
I looked at the dress again.
“I’m doing this for you, Mom.”
“I know.”
“I need you to get better.”
“I’m trying.”
Her voice became softer.
“Lena, you don’t have to destroy your life because I’m sick.”
“I’m not destroying it. I’m making sure you get the treatment you need.”
“You’re marrying a man you barely know.”
“I know.”
She sighed.
“I just want you to be happy.”
I looked at the ring on my finger.
“Maybe I will.”
I wasn’t sure if either of us believed me.
The next morning, I woke before my alarm.
For a few seconds, I forgot what day it was.
Then I saw the dress.
Today.
I was getting married today.
By late afternoon, Ava stood behind me as the makeup artist finished.
“You look beautiful.”
I looked at myself in the mirror.
My chestnut brown hair fell in soft waves around my shoulders.
The dress fit perfectly.
The woman in the mirror looked like someone who belonged at a billionaire’s wedding.
She didn’t look like someone who had signed a marriage contract three days earlier.
“You okay?” Ava asked.
“I think so.”
“You don’t have to pretend with me.”
“I know.”
I touched my ring.
“I just keep thinking about how strange this is.”
“It is strange.”
I laughed.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Damian.
The ceremony starts at seven. Be ready thirty minutes before.
No congratulations.
No Are you nervous?
Just instructions.
I typed back.
I’m ready.
His reply came almost immediately.
Good.
Ava glanced at my phone.
“Romantic.”
I laughed.
Then the door opened.
“It’s time.”
Ava took my hand.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
She squeezed my hand.
“Then go.”
I took a breath.
And walked out.
The ceremony was smaller than I expected.
There were family members, close friends, business associates, and enough cameras to remind me exactly who Damian Black was.
I stood at the entrance and took one deep breath.
Then the doors opened.
My eyes found Damian immediately.
He stood at the front in a black suit, looking exactly as he had the first day I met him.
Calm.
Controlled.
Unreadable.
When I reached him, he held out his hand.
I placed mine in it.
His fingers closed around mine.
“Ready?” he asked quietly.
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
Of course he was.
The ceremony began.
The words were simple.
The promises were traditional.
When it was my turn to say I do, I almost didn’t recognize my own voice.
“I do.”
Damian followed.
“I do.”
And suddenly, it was real.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Damian looked at me.
He stepped closer, his hand settling lightly against my waist.
The cameras flashed.
His lips touched mine.
Briefly.
Carefully.
Just enough to convince everyone watching.
Then he stepped back.
Everyone started clapping.
I smiled because everyone was watching.
Afterward, we stood together for photographs.
“Closer,” the photographer said.
I moved toward Damian.
His hand returned to my waist.
“You’re tense,” he murmured.
“You’re holding me.”
“That’s the point.”
I looked at him.
“You’re very good at making everything sound romantic.”
His jaw tightened.
“This isn’t romantic.”
“I know.”
Our eyes met.
For one strange second, neither of us looked away.
Then another flash went off.
The moment disappeared.
The drive to the Black residence was quiet.
When the car stopped, I looked at the huge house in front of me.
This was where I was going to live.
At least for the next year.
The doors opened before we reached them.
A member of the staff stepped forward.
“Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Black.”
I paused.
Mrs. Black.
The words felt strange.
Another staff member took my bag.
“This way, ma’am.”
I followed Damian inside.
At the staircase, he stopped.
“Your room is upstairs. Mine is across the hall.”
I nodded.
Exactly as the contract required.
Separate rooms.
Separate lives.
One marriage.
One year.
But Marcus’s words suddenly came back to me.
Ask him what happened to the last person who trusted him completely.
Then I remembered the anonymous woman’s warning.
Ask Damian about Vanessa.
I looked at him.
“Damian.”
He turned.
“Who is Vanessa?”
His expression changed.
For the first time since I had met him, Damian looked genuinely caught off guard.
“Where did you hear that name?”
I frowned.
“Does it matter?”
His eyes stayed on mine.
The silence between us suddenly felt different.
Then his expression hardened.
“That’s not a question you want the answer to.”
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