DESTINED

WHEN SILENCE BECAME A VOW

Emily didn’t sleep for two nights.

Not truly. Her body lay on the narrow bed, eyes closed, breath shallow, but her mind never rested. Every time she drifted close to sleep, nightmares dragged her back under—dark corridors, locked doors, the echo of slow footsteps behind her. Sometimes she dreamed of standing in an operating room, dressed in white, hands steady, purpose clear—only for the walls to melt away and reveal a wedding altar instead. Other times, she dreamed of Muse Mayer’s eyes watching her from the shadows, unreadable, inescapable.

She woke each time with her heart racing, her sheets twisted around her legs, the taste of fear sharp on her tongue.

Two days passed in a blur. Too fast. The apartment filled with strangers—stylists, assistants, voices that didn’t belong to her world. They moved around her like she was a porcelain figure that might crack if handled incorrectly. No one asked how she felt. No one cared.

This was not about her. This was about an agreement. And then—suddenly—it was the day of the wedding. Emily stood in front of the mirror, still and silent. The girl staring back at her felt unfamiliar. She looked… beautiful. The white wedding dress clung softly to her frame, elegant and simple, its fabric flowing like something untouched. Against it, her milky skin seemed almost luminous.

Her hair had been styled carefully, falling in gentle waves down her back. Her face was soft, natural, enhanced just enough to make her eyes appear larger, deeper. Like an angel. She barely recognized herself.

Her family did.

But they would never admit it.

Margot stood behind her with crossed arms, lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s just makeup,” she said dismissively, though her eyes betrayed something else—resentment. “Anyone looks good like that.”

May scoffed from the doorway. “Take it all off, and she’s nothing special.”

Emily didn’t respond. She leaned closer to the mirror, studying her reflection, and let out a slow sigh. Her fingers brushed the smooth fabric of the dress at her chest. She thought of all the white she had dreamed of wearing.

Not this. The first white thing she had imagined on her body was a doctor’s coat—clean, crisp, earned. The first thing around her neck was supposed to be a stethoscope, not diamonds she hadn’t chosen.

She had dreamed of long nights studying, exhausted but fulfilled, of saving lives, of standing on her own feet.

Dreams will always be dreams, she thought quietly. Reality had other plans.

She turned away from the mirror and took a step toward the door.

That’s when Margot and May moved to block her path.

Emily stopped.

She already knew what was coming.

Margot tilted her head, her voice low and sharp. “Leave your ridiculous dreams here,” she said. “Don’t take them into the wedding aisle with you.

You’re not a doctor. You never will be.”

Emily’s hands curled slightly at her sides, but she said nothing.

Margot stepped closer. “When you get to Mr. Mayer’s house, you do exactly what he tells you. If he wants to beat you, you let him. If he wants you on the floor, you stay there. Understand?” Her words were calm. Casual. Cruel.

“You should be grateful,” Margot continued. “You’ll be a maid in a rich man’s house. That’s more than you deserve,”

May laughed softly. “And don’t fool yourself,” she added. “A man like Mr. Mayer would never love someone like you. He doesn’t even look at me—so who are you to think you matter?”

Emily listened in silence. She didn’t argue. She didn’t cry. She had learned long ago that resistance only made things worse.

She walked past them without another word.

The wedding aisle stretched before her, lined with white flowers and expensive decorations that felt unreal—like a stage built for someone else’s story. Guests whispered softly as she appeared, their eyes following her every step.

At the altar, Muse Mayer was already waiting. He stood tall, composed, dressed in a tailored black suit that fit him perfectly. His posture was relaxed but controlled, his presence commanding without effort.

When his eyes lifted and found her, something flickered there—brief, sharp. He was stunned. Emily was beautiful. Not in a fragile, decorative way—but in a quiet, striking way that demanded attention. For a fraction of a second, he forgot the room, the guests, the agreement.

Then he mastered himself.

His expression returned to calm neutrality.

Emily reached the altar and stood beside him, her hands trembling slightly as she folded them in front of her.

She didn’t look at him.

She didn’t trust herself to.

The ceremony began. The priest’s voice echoed around them, steady and formal, words about commitment and unity that felt strangely hollow. Emily answered when prompted, her voice soft but clear. Muse responded without hesitation. When the vows were complete, the priest smiled.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Emily’s heart skipped painfully. She didn’t move.

She didn’t think he would kiss her. She was sure he wouldn’t.

She felt May’s eyes burning into her back, waiting for the humiliation. Leo shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Margot’s lips curved in anticipation.

Emily prepared herself for the moment to pass.

Then Muse moved. His hand came up, warm and firm, cupping her cheek. His touch was gentle—but deliberate. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft. Careful. Brief—but real. Emily froze. Her breath caught, her mind blank, her heart racing wildly in her chest. The world seemed to tilt beneath her feet. When he pulled away, she was still standing there, stunned, her cheeks flushed, her lips tingling. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

May’s face drained of color.

They were husband and wife.

Moments later, they left the ceremony together.

Cameras flashed. Congratulations were murmured.

Emily barely heard any of it. The car door opened for her. She hesitated—then stepped inside. As the vehicle pulled away from the only home she had ever known, Emily clasped her hands tightly in her lap and stared out the window.

She didn’t know what waited for her at Muse Mayer’s house. She didn’t know what kind of wife she was expected to be. All she knew was this— Her life had changed forever. And whatever came next… there would be no turning back.