Deceit

CHAPTER 1: THE WEDDING BETRAYAL

The music stopped.

Not the romantic piano that was supposed to play when I walked down the aisle.

No.

It was the sound of camera shutters.

Hundreds of them.

And laughter.

My white veil felt like it was choking me as I stood frozen at the altar, bouquet trembling in my hands.

Because in front of 300 guests, on the giant screen meant for our wedding video...

My fiancé, Daniel, was kissing my sister.

Naked.

In his penthouse.

3 hours ago.

This can’t be happening. Not today. Not to me.

“Turn it off!” My mom screamed, but it was too late.

The video kept playing. His moans. Her laugh. “You’re so much better than her, babe.”

Daniel’s face went white. My sister, Tasha, covered her mouth.

And me?

I did the only thing I could.

I dropped the bouquet.

The white roses scattered across the marble floor like blood.

The room was dead silent except for the whispers.

Poor Aisha. That’s so embarrassing. Her own sister?

I lifted my chin. Straightened my spine. The dress my mom went into debt for suddenly felt like armor.

If they wanted a show, I’d give them one.

I walked.

Past my crying mother.

Past Daniel who was stuttering, “Aisha, wait, it’s not—”

Past Tasha who had the audacity to look sorry.

I didn’t run.

I glided.

Until I hit the rain outside.

The sky had opened up the second I stepped out. Like even God was mad for me.

My $20,000 dress was soaked in 10 seconds. My makeup ran down my face.

I didn’t care.

They took everything from me. My fiancé. My sister. My dignity.

But they won’t take this.

“Miss! Are you okay?”

A voice. Deep. Cold.

I turned and bumped straight into a wall of black suit.

Water dripped from his perfectly cut hair onto my face.

He was tall. Too tall. Umbrella in one hand, phone in the other.

And his eyes...

God, his eyes were like ice. Grey. Judging me.

“Get out of my way,” I snapped, voice breaking.

He didn’t move. Instead his eyes dragged over my ruined dress, my smeared makeup, the diamond ring still on my finger.

His jaw ticked.

“You’re the girl from the wedding,” he said. Not a question.

“The one that’s all over i********: already.”

My stomach dropped. Of course it was online.

In 60 seconds I went from bride to meme.

“I said move,” I tried again, but my voice cracked.

The tears I’d been holding back finally fell, mixing with the rain.

That’s when he did something weird.

He sighed. Like I was a problem he didn’t want but had to solve.

Then he held out his umbrella.

“Come,” he said.

“Or drown. Your choice.”

Why should I trust you? You’re a stranger.

But what’s left to lose?

I stepped under his umbrella. He smelled like expensive cologne and rain.

He didn’t touch me. Didn’t offer comfort. Just... stood there.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Aisha,” I whispered.

“Aisha,” he repeated, like he was testing it. “I’m Kain Blackwell.”

The name hit me like a slap.

Kain Blackwell.

The billionaire.

The man who destroyed my father’s company 10 years ago.

The reason we were broke.

Run. Run now.

But my legs wouldn’t move.

He was watching me. Those ice eyes saw right through the wet dress and the broken girl.

“You look like you want revenge,” he said quietly.

I laughed. It sounded bitter even to me. “What would you know about it?”

“I know a lot,” Kain said. He stepped closer. The umbrella barely covered both of us now.

“Your fiancé stole from my company last year. Your sister is sleeping with 3 of my board members.”

He paused.

“And I hate loose ends.”

What is he saying?

He pulled something from his inner pocket. A black card.

And a contract.

“Marry me, Aisha,” Kain said. No emotion. Like he was ordering coffee.

“6 months. In exchange, I ruin Daniel. I ruin your sister. I give you back everything they took.”

My mouth opened but nothing came out.

“This isn’t a proposal,” he continued, cold as the rain.

“It’s business. Rule 1: No love. Rule 2: No touching unless necessary. Rule 3: You do what I say in public.”

He held the contract out.

“Do we have a deal?”

The rain kept falling.

My phone was blowing up in my clutch. 200 messages.

Daniel. Mom. News sites.

They humiliated me.

And here was the devil, offering me hell to fight them with.

My hand shook as I reached for the pen.

What am I doing?

What choice do I have?

I signed.

Aisha Monroe.

Kain took the contract, tucked it away, and for the first second, something like approval flashed in his eyes.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

“Welcome to hell, Mrs. Blackwell.”

He turned and walked to a black car waiting at the curb.

Driver opened the door.

He looked back at me. “Coming?”

I took one last look at the church behind me. At my old life.

Then I followed him into the rain.

Because if this was war...

I was done being the victim.