Chapter 3:Their wedding
1072 Words
The grand hall of The Orchid Manor buzzed with low conversations, the air rich with the scent of lilies and sandalwood. It was a modern-day royal affair, the wedding of Bryan King, heir to Kings Group International, and Isabella Coker, daughter of the esteemed Chief Coker. The event was lavish, opulent, everything a media spectacle could hope for.
Isabella stood before the full-length mirror in the bridal suite, wrapped in a gown custom-designed by Elira Galle. Her dark curls were swept into an elegant updo, a tiara glinting softly beneath the chandelier's light. She looked beautiful like the perfect bride. But inside, she was cold. Numb.
Mariam, her maid of honor and only trusted friend in the room, stepped forward with the bouquet. "Is it too late to fake a fever?"
Isabella gave a dry laugh. "At this point, I think my father would still drag me down the aisle."
Mariam touched her arm gently. "You look stunning. But you don’t have to do this if your heart’s not in it."
"It's not about my heart. It’s about debt, legacy, power," Isabella murmured. "Besides, I already signed the contract."
Outside, the orchestra began playing the first notes of the wedding march. The doors creaked open.
"Showtime," Isabella whispered, lifting her chin.
Bryan adjusted his tie in the side hall mirror, flanked by his best man and longtime friend, Daniel.
"How does it feel to be a husband in the next fifteen minutes?" Daniel smirked.
"Like I’m being led to a boardroom with doves and violins," Bryan muttered.
"You sure about this?"
Bryan hesitated. "No. But the CEO title is more than a title. It’s everything I’ve worked for."
Daniel sighed. "And the woman?"
Bryan didn’t answer. Instead, his mind flickered to Lydia—her laugh, her sarcasm, the way she used to tilt her head when he said something she didn’t like. The memory burned in his chest.
"Let's just get through today."
The ceremony began with flashbulbs popping like fireworks. The rich and powerful of the city filled every row. Reporters hovered discreetly, camera drones circled overhead.
Bryan stood at the altar as the music swelled.
And then she appeared.
Isabella walked down the aisle, her steps slow, graceful. Every eye turned to her, but Bryan’s gaze remained unreadable. He couldn’t deny her beauty. But he also couldn’t forget the terms of their agreement.
No love. No expectations. Just survival.
When she reached him, he offered his arm. Her fingers were cold against his skin. They turned to face the officiant.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."
The words blurred.
Vows were exchanged, formal and impersonal. Rings were slipped onto fingers. And then the final line:
"You may kiss the bride."
Bryan leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against hers. It lasted barely a second.
No fire. No passion. Just obligation.
Applause erupted. Cameras flashed. And just like that, they were husband and wife.
The reception was held in the manor's ballroom. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over the crowd. Waiters floated around with champagne flutes and exotic hors d'oeuvres. A live jazz band played in the corner, soft and sultry.
Bryan and Isabella danced their first dance like two professionals fulfilling a contract. There were no whispered jokes, no smiles of secret affection. Just elegance. Precision. Distance.
"We make a convincing couple," Isabella said as the music played.
"Convincing is the goal," Bryan replied.
"What if we slip up? What if people see through it?"
He leaned in slightly, pretending intimacy. "Then we lie better."
As they separated, applause followed. They took their seats at the head table, plastering on smiles while whispers followed them from every corner of the room.
Mariam sat beside Isabella as the crowd began to thin.
"You okay?" she asked quietly.
"I don’t know," Isabella whispered. "Everything feels surreal."
"He looked at you like he was trying to solve a puzzle."
Isabella laughed softly. "That’s better than him looking at me like he regrets everything."
"Are you going to tell him?"
Isabella froze. "About Tony? About the possibility of..."
Mariam nodded.
"No. Not until I’m sure. No point starting this mess with a bigger one."
Mariam sighed. "Well, you know I’ve got your back. Even if this whole thing turns into a Netflix drama."
As the night wore on, Bryan escaped to the balcony. He lit a cigar, something he hadn’t done in years, staring out at the glowing skyline.
Clara, his assistant, stepped out with a glass of champagne. "Congratulations, Mr. CEO."
"Thanks," he said dryly. "Feels more like a hostile takeover than a promotion."
"You played the game. You won. Now you run the empire."
"And at what cost?"
Clara hesitated. "Lydia showed up again. She was seen leaving the engagement party."
Bryan frowned. "Why?"
"No idea. But her name came up in one of the gossip blogs today. You and her. Speculations, timelines, betrayal. The usual."
Bryan cursed under his breath. The last thing he needed was more drama.
Clara placed a folder on the table beside him. "Your first board meeting as CEO is in three days. These are the agenda items."
He took the folder, scanning it briefly. "I never thought I’d have to get married to get this."
Clara smiled. "Every king needs a queen, right?"
He didn’t answer. Just looked back out at the city.
In the honeymoon suite, Isabella changed out of her wedding gown and into a silk robe. She looked around the enormous room, furnished like a palace. A bottle of champagne sat chilling beside the bed, untouched.
Bryan walked in, loosening his tie. There was a brief silence.
"I took the couch," he said casually.
She nodded. "Thanks."
Another silence.
"We don’t have to pretend when it’s just us," she said.
"Good. Because I’m tired of pretending."
She turned off the vanity light. "Goodnight, Bryan."
"Goodnight, Isabella."
As she lay down, staring at the ceiling, her hand drifted to her stomach,thinking about the business transaction,rather than marriage that just happened during the day.
Is it really worth it? She thought out loud. "I guess you'd stick around to see", a loud voice in her head responded.
But if it wasn’t...
Her world was about to unravel.
Three floors below, a hotel staff member slipped an envelope into Bryan’s briefcase. Inside it was a flash drive.
No name. No return address.
Just a sticky note: "For your eyes only. Before it’s too late."
- Writer
