The Billionaire's Unwanted Bride

CHAPTER 4

I barely slept that night.

All I could think of was Lucas, every time I closed my eyes. The way he’d looked down at me and the way his lips had commandeered mine as if they were his.

I hated him.

I hated how blithely he took care of everything, how he always got his way.

And now, he had me.

The knock at my door was too early in the morning.

“Open, Elara,” my father’s voice echoed throughout the place.

I groaned, rubbed my temples, and pulled myself out of bed. My father was in the doorway, his face set.

“Get dressed. We have a wedding to attend.”

My stomach dropped.

Right. The wedding.

My wedding.

To Lucas.

I gritted my teeth. “I’m not going.”

His gaze darkened. “Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not”

“Elara.” His voice was cold, final. “This is not a discussion. You’re going to wear that dress, and you’re going to walk down that aisle, and you’re going to marry Lucas. Or you’ll regret it.”

I swallowed hard.

I had no choice.

I averted my eyes, fists balling up into tight little fists as I listened to him leave.

I hated this. I hated feeling trapped.

I wanted to run.

But where would I even go?

Well, of course, the wedding was in a big, gilded hall because it was the Thompsons.

I was looking in the mirror at the white lace dress I wore.

I should’ve felt beautiful.

I was indeed stuck in that headspace.

A soft knock made me stiffen.

Before I could answer, the door burst open, and Lucas came in.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” I yelled, so he would turn and look at me.

He smirked. “Who’s going to stop me?”

Freezing, my hands balled into fists, not caring how he saw me, as though I were already his.

“What do you want, Lucas?”

He stood up and walked slowly toward me, his eyes shadowy with I-did n’t-know-what.

“To get my bride,” he mumbled.

My heart raced and fell, I looked away. “I’m not your bride yet.”

He chuckled. “You will be soon.”

I could sense him behind me before I turned my eyes. His heat, his breath along my neck.

My pulse quickened.

I know what I want most right now.” he said, in a kittenish drawl.

I choked a bit and wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how hard it hit me. “What?”

His touch was light just his fingers on my shoulder but it was enough to make me shiver.

“To see you broken,” he whispered-voiced.

It made me flinch; I turned around to see him. “You’re disgusting.”

Lucas only smirked. “Maybe. But you’ll still be mine.”

I was overflowing with rage, and with something I don’t want to call by name.

I wanted to fight him.

But deep down inside, I faintly knew that I was already losing.

It was a blur of a ceremony.

And there I was, standing at an altar with a racing heart as Lucas slipped a ring onto my finger.

He held me possessively, as though to remind me that I was his now.

“For as long as we both shall live,” he said, looking deep into my eyes.

A shiver ran through me.

Something told me those words didn’t mean lip service with Lucas.

They were a warning.

The instant the ceremony concluded, the reality of my new dread wrapped itself around me like a heavy cloak.

I was married.

To Lucas.

The guy I used to have a crush on. The same man who destroyed my teenage years.

And now, he owned me.

I was forced to clench my fists as we were escorted to a private car, and the guests cheered behind us. I almost suffocated in the vacuum-sealed hours of the limousine. The air was perfumed with fresh roses and expensive cologne, but all my attention was fixed on Lucas, beside me, one arm thrown casually over the back of the seat.

He looked at me, mischief dancing in his eyes. “You haven’t said anything since those few words that made us husband and wife.”

I swallowed and peered out through the window. “Because I have nothing to say.”

He laughed, a low, thick sound. “Come on, sweetheart. “At least act happy.”

I turned my head sharply toward him, fire in my eyes. “Happy? You tricked me into this marriage.” You stole my choice, my freedom. You think that’s something I should be excited to do?”

Lucas leaned in slightly, still smirking. “I think you should stop fighting things that are already done.”

He spoke too calmly, too confidently. I hated that. Like I was just a piece on a board he had already won.

I glared at him. “This isn’t a game, Lucas.”

His eyes went foggy for a moment , and I thought I saw something rear behind them — something feral.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “This isn’t a game. This is our life now.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

And his words impacted me more than I could have realized.

Because they were true.

I was his wife now. Whether I liked it or not.

It stops out front of the Thompson estate — a huge, intimidating mansion that practically shouts money and power.

When the driver opened the car door, my heart raced as Lucas stepped out first.

Then he handed me a handshake.

I looked at it, my fingers gripping my dress.

I didn’t want to take it.

I didn’t want him to think I was going to go do this.”

But I had no choice because there were all the photographers photographing us and the guests were looking.

I gritted my teeth then placed my hand on his.

His hands encircled my fingers, solid and hard.

And with that statement, I felt like the last remnant of my freedom was gone.

The wedding reception was just as extravagant as the ceremony. Under the sparkling chandeliers, guests drank, laughed and danced. But I wasn’t one of them.

Barely touching my food, I stayed frozen at the table, watching Lucas his business associates spar back and forth, effortlessly and casually.

I had never felt so unwelcome in anyone’s yard.

Then suddenly, a low voice was whispering next to me, “You look miserable.”

I turned to look at Damon Carter, Lucas’s best friend and business partner. Tall, with sharp, chiseled features that formed a striking face, and penetrating green eyes that seemed to pierce through me.

I forced a tight smile. “That obvious, huh?”

He smiled wickedly, stirring his drink. “Very.”

I sighed as I watched Lucas, chatting on the other side of the table. “I suppose I should get used to it.

Damon glanced at me for an instant, then leaned in slightly. “Be careful with him, Elara.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

Before he could reply, an arm slithered around my waist and pulled me against a harder body.

Lucas.

He held me with a ravenous possessiveness, his hands searing the fabric of my dress.

“Everything okay here?” he asked, his voice smooth but filled with a little menace.

Damon held up his hands. “Just having a nice chat.”

Lucas didn’t look convinced.

He simply wrapped his arm around me more tightly. “My wife doesn’t need any friendly talks with other men.”

I stiffened. “I’m allowed to talk to whoever I want.”

Lucas hardly moved his head and whispered against my ear, “Not when you’re mine,” his lips skimming the sensitive skin.

My breath hitched.

Damon sighed and then shook his head. “You never change, do you?”

Lucas smirked. “Not when it comes to mine.”

The way he said that word mine, it gave me goosebumps.

I wanted to argue. To push him away.

But deep down, I knew

I was already trapped.