CHAPTER 3: A COLD WEDDING
853 Words
Georgia had imagined her wedding countless times when she was a little girl.
She dreamed of soft petals beneath her feet not cold marble.
A golden sunset lighting the sky.
Laughter echoing through the air.
Violins playing the sweet tune of forever.
She would wear a white gown covered in delicate diamond stones, flowing like a dream.
She would walk down the aisle toward love, not legality.
Her groom would wait at the end of the aisle, eyes glassy with emotion, heart open, whispering,
"You're mine always."
She never imagined this.
The ceremony was held in a private room at city hall.
No flowers. No music. No guests.
Just Liam.
Georgia stood beside him in complete silence.
It was a cold room that smelled like power and pressure, nothing soft, nothing warm.
Just grey walls, a bored official, and a man whose ring was a business deal, not a promise of love.
No violins.
No smiles.
Just the clicking of pens.
Just the ticking of the clock.
Liam stood beside her, calm and unreadable, looking every bit the ruthless billionaire the world knew him to be.
The justice of the peace read the vows like they were instructions on a receipt.
"...to have and to hold, from this day forward..."
Georgia kept her breathing steady.
Each word wrapped around her throat like a chain.
When it was her turn to speak, she hesitated.
Just for a second.
She thought about running. Turning and walking out that door. Leaving it all behind.
But she didn't.
She couldn't.
She lifted her chin, swallowed her pride, and whispered,
"I do."
Liam's voice followed, deep and cool.
"I do."
No smile.
No emotion.
Just a contract sealed with words that should have meant everything but meant nothing.
The officiant pronounced them husband and wife with all the excitement of reading a grocery list.
And just like that, Georgia Lane became Mrs. Liam Patel.
They signed the marriage license in silence.
Liam's signature was bold and precise.
Georgia's hand trembled slightly at the end of hers. She hoped he hadn't noticed.
He had.
Of course he had.
When the signing was done, Liam slipped the papers into a black leather folder.
"You'll move into my house tonight," he said without looking at her.
"Tonight?" she repeated, her voice sharper than she intended.
His eyes flicked up to meet hers. Cold. Calm. Controlled.
"Appearances matter, Georgia. Or did you think this was a game?"
Her throat tightened.
"I haven't had time to prepare."
"Prepare for what?" he asked, raising a brow. His voice was smooth, almost bored. "This isn't a real marriage. You won't be expected to perform any... duties."
Heat rushed to her cheeks, despite her best efforts to stay composed.
"How generous of you," she said dryly.
He ignored the sarcasm. "I've arranged for your things to be delivered."
"You've already packed my things?"
"You agreed to this," he said, his tone sharp like a blade. "No illusions. No regrets."
Georgia clenched her jaw, swallowing the angry words bubbling inside her.
Yes, she had agreed.
Because she hadn't had a choice.
Now she was bound to a man who didn't believe in love.
A man who saw her not as a partner, not as a woman with dreams and hopes, but as a strategy.
A signed solution.
A cold business deal.
He studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
When he finally spoke, his voice was lower and almost too soft.
"Let's get this over with."
He turned and walked away without waiting for her.
Leaving her alone in the quiet, echoing room.
Georgia closed her eyes for a brief second, pulling in a shaky breath.
Then she straightened her back.
Lifted her chin.
If she was going to survive this year as Liam Patel's wife, she would do it with her head held high.
She would not break.
She would not cry.
And she would never let him see her fall apart.
Not now.
Not ever.
Just before she stepped out of the room, she heard his voice again. Low. Icy.
"Now... let the real game begin."
She froze.
Her heart skipped.
Game?
What game?
What had she just walked into?
----
What game do you think he's talking about?
- Writer
