Chapter 4
1109 Words
Alina ran down the narrow service stairwell, her breath uneven, her mind racing faster than her feet. The music from downstairs floated faintly through the walls, cheerful and bright, mocking her.
Bride.
That word almost made her laugh.
She pushed open the back corridor door and nearly collided with a solid chest.
Strong hands caught her before she fell.
“Careful.”
The voice was calm, familiar and infuriatingly steady.
Alina looked up and forgot how to breathe.
“Alex?”
Alex Gilbert stood in front of her, dressed in a dark tailored suit that made him look like he had stepped out of a business magazine instead of into her disaster. His hair was slightly messy, like he had run his fingers through it too many times. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, were fixed entirely on her.
“Well,” he said slowly, taking in her blue hair, smudged makeup, and the oversized coat she had thrown over her half-prepared bridal look. “I knew you were impulsive. I didn’t expect you to sprint into me on your wedding day.”
“This isn’t my wedding,” she snapped automatically.
He raised a brow. “Isn’t it?”
For a second, they just stared at each other.
They had always known this moment would come. Not this exact one, not with blue hair and panic in her chest—but a wedding. Their wedding. It had been decided long before they were old enough to understand what marriage meant.
The Lincoln and Hart families had sealed it with a handshake when she was five.
She used to think it was romantic.
Alex and Alina, always.
Until her mother died.
Until her father remarried.
Until Fiona began whispering that Alex would cage her, control her, strip away her freedom. That he would never let her dye her hair blue or skip lectures or live loudly.
And Alina had believed her.
She had looked at Alex and started seeing restrictions instead of safety.
“You’re here to mock me?” she asked, trying to step around him.
He moved slightly, blocking her path without effort.
“I heard one of the Lincoln daughters was getting married today,” he said casually. “Considering you were hopelessly smitten with Liam and practically begged to break off our betrothal for him, I assumed it was you.”
Her jaw tightened.
“I did not beg.”
“You were dramatic,” he corrected. “You cried.”
“I was fifteen!”
“You’re dramatic now.”
She shoved his shoulder lightly. “Move.”
He didn’t.
Instead, his gaze softened just slightly. “I couldn’t miss it,” he said. “You making yet another questionable life decision? It would haunt me.”
Her heart squeezed painfully.
“Alex, I don’t have time for this.”
He studied her more closely now. “You’re shaking.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
She tried to step past him again but his hand caught her wrist.
His grip on her wasn't rough, just firm.
“You owe me,” he said quietly.
She stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“The bet.”
Her stomach flipped.
Of all the times for this man to remember that.
They had been eight.
Alina had decided she wanted to marry him immediately not because she was forced to or because of family arrangements.
But because she loved him.
Alex had laughed softly and told her they were too young.
“There’s no need to rush,” he had said. “We’re already betrothed.”
And that had terrified her.
“What if you meet someone prettier?” she had demanded. “What if you change your mind?”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t know that!”
So they made a bet.
Whoever was responsible for them not getting married between the two of them would have to grant the other’s wish.
At the time, it felt playful, romantic and safe.
Now it felt dangerous.
“I didn’t lose,” Alina said quickly. “I’m not getting married.”
“You were about to.”
“I’m running away!”
“From your own wedding.”
“It’s not my wedding,” she burst out. “It was never mine.”
Alex went very still.
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” she said, glancing down the corridor nervously, “that this is a long story and my life is currently in danger.”
He blinked once.
Then again.
“Explain.”
“I don’t have time to explain!” she hissed. “They’re planning something. Liam, Brielle, Fiona. I overheard them. They want me gone.”
Silence.
He searched her face carefully.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes!”
She tried to pull free again.
He tightened his hold slightly.
“Running doesn’t mean you’re safe,” he said quietly.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “It’s better than staying.”
“No.” His voice was calm, controlled. “If they’re powerful enough to plan this inside your own home, you won’t outrun them by stepping outside.”
Fear crept into her spine.
She hated that he sounded right.
“Then what do you suggest?” she demanded.
His thumb brushed lightly against her wrist, grounding.
“I protect you.”
Her breath hitched.
“You don’t get to just say that.”
“I do.”
She shook her head. “Alex—”
“I will protect you,” he repeated, his voice firm now. “And I will give you anything you want.”
The corridor felt suddenly smaller and quieter.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
His eyes didn’t waver.
“Marry me.”
The words settled between them like something inevitable.
It wasn't rushed, not desperate but certain.
Alina stared at him.
Ironically, she was fleeing a wedding that was never truly hers.
And the one man she had once broken her own heart to leave was standing in front of her, offering exactly what she used to beg for; safety, choice and him.
“You think this is about the bet?” she whispered.
“No,” he said softly. “This is about you.”
Footsteps echoed faintly somewhere behind her.
Time was running out.
Her life had cracked open in a single day.
Her family wanted her gone.
The man she thought she loved had betrayed her.
And the boy she once promised forever to was asking for it again.
Alina swallowed hard.
For the first time since the chaos began—
She didn’t feel alone.
- Writer
