Chapter2
416 Words
The wedding was nothing like Élodie had dreamed of as a child.
There was no lace-draped altar in a blooming French garden. No loving smiles. No music from her favorite old chansons. Just legal papers signed in a marble courthouse and a gold ring slipped on her finger by a man who didn’t believe in love.
Damon stood beside her, unreadable as always. He wore a black three-piece suit tailored to perfection, while Élodie was dressed in a sleek white gown that felt more like a costume than a dress. She looked beautiful, everyone said. She felt trapped.
The press flooded outside the courthouse, cameras flashing wildly. To the world, it was a billionaire’s whirlwind love affair with the daughter of a once-famous magnate. Romantic. Scandalous. Parisian gold.
Only they knew the truth.
Damon leaned in, whispered against her ear with a practiced smile. “Kiss me. The media’s watching.”
Her lips trembled. She closed her eyes and pressed her mouth to his. His lips were cool, still, formal. A kiss for show. Nothing more.
They were husband and wife.
Back at the penthouse in Montmartre, the city glittered below them like a sea of gold. Élodie stood by the window, her hands shaking as she looked at the skyline. She was married to a man she despised, living in a penthouse she didn’t choose, and sleeping in a guest room far from the husband she barely knew.
Damon walked in, shrugging off his jacket.
“I trust you know the rules.”
She turned. “Rules?”
“No interviews. No solo appearances. No calls to journalists. You’ll attend charity events and business galas with me. You’ll smile, say nothing, and play your part.”
Her voice cracked. “And if I don’t?”
He poured a glass of whiskey and took a sip before answering. “Then I won't pay for your father’s treatment. You break the contract, I break the deal.”
She stared at him, stunned by his coldness.
“But why me?” she whispered. “Why trap me in this?”
He met her gaze then, and for the first time, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something almost painful.
“Because your father destroyed something important to me once. You’re not just a pawn, Élodie. You’re poetic justice.”
She wanted to slap him. But instead, she said nothing. She turned and walked to her room, closed the door, and let the tears fall in silence.
- Writer
