8
992 Words
A MONTH LATER
Sophia ’s POV
Life rarely asks for your permission before throwing you down an unfamiliar path. And today, I am walking down one I never thought I’d choose.
Reality.
That’s the word I wrote on a sticky note in the dressing room. A word that has defined every agonizing decision that led me here.
This moment isn’t something I dreamed of as a little girl. No butterflies in my stomach, no romantic notions about finding “the one.” Instead, I’m walking toward the altar to marry a man I barely know—and certainly don’t love.
The crowd erupts into polite applause as I step forward, my white gown trailing behind me like a heavy burden. Every step feels like I’m sinking deeper into a quicksand of expectations, obligations, and a vendetta I can’t let go of.
His name is Dante Lorenzo. The youngest billionaire in the city. The man who is about to become my husband. But not for love. No, this is a transaction. A business deal wrapped in satin and sealed with diamond rings.
I glance at my parents sitting in the front row. My mother beams with pride, her smile wide enough to hide her desperation. My father, though… his frailty, the way he grips his cane with trembling fingers, that’s why I’m doing this. To see him rise from the ashes of his ruined empire.
And then there’s Liam and Clara.
My heart hardens at the thought of them. Betrayal cuts deeper than love ever did, and they didn’t just wound me—they annihilated every ounce of trust I had. This wedding is as much for revenge as it is for duty. Seeing Liam ’s smug face crumble when he realizes I’m now Mrs. Lorenzo is worth every compromise I’ve made.
I smirk internally, imagining the shockwave this marriage will send through their perfect little world. Liam used to call me “ordinary,” and Clara? She said I’d never land anyone better. Oh, how I’ll enjoy proving them both wrong.
Dante stands at the end of the aisle, a stoic figure carved in marble. His tailored tuxedo clings to his frame with precision, but his expression is ice cold. Not even a flicker of warmth crosses his features.
Good. We’re on the same page, then. This isn’t love; this is war.
Our eyes lock. For a split second, I wonder if he’s been stalking my social media, trying to figure out the woman he’s tying his fate to. The thought makes me almost laugh. If he has, he probably knows I’m no pushover.
As I near the altar, I lift the hem of my dress slightly, careful not to trip. The veil obscures my face, but I can feel his penetrating gaze. It’s unnerving, and I hate that it affects me.
The little bride beside me hands me my bouquet. I take it, clutching the stems tightly as if they could anchor me to some semblance of control.
The priest begins the ceremony, his voice a soothing monotone. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join Dante Lorenzo and Sophia Adams in holy matrimony…”
I zone out briefly, my mind replaying every choice that led me here. I have no bridesmaids, no maid of honor. My only friends were Liam and Clara, and their betrayal severed any ties I had to the social circle we shared. Dante doesn’t have a best man either. It’s a peculiar detail, but I’m too preoccupied to dwell on it.
The priest hands Dante the first ring, signaling him to exchange his vows.
Dante’s hands are steady as he holds the diamond band, his voice clear and confident. “In the name of God, I, Dante Lorenzo, take you, Sophia Adams, as my lawfully wedded wife…”
His words roll off his tongue like a well-rehearsed speech. He slips the ring onto my finger, and for a moment, I catch a flicker of something in his eyes. Not affection, but perhaps… curiosity?
I suppress a grin. He has no idea what he’s signed up for.
When it’s my turn, the priest’s voice jolts me from my thoughts. “Sophia , you may now say your vows.”
The room falls silent.
I hesitate, my fingers trembling as I take the ring. The enormity of the moment crashes down on me. This isn’t a fantasy. This is a marriage—no matter how temporary, no matter how loveless.
My voice doesn’t waver as I recite the words. “In the name of God, I, Sophia Adams, take you, Dante Lorenzo, as my lawfully wedded husband…”
The diamond glimmers as I slide it onto his finger, a symbol of our charade.
The crowd erupts into applause, but my heart pounds against my ribs.
And then the priest drops the bombshell.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
My stomach lurches. Kiss? No. This wasn’t part of the deal.
Dante’s hand reaches for my veil, lifting it to reveal my face. The intensity in his eyes sends a jolt through me. He leans forward, his lips aiming for mine.
Time slows.
I can’t let this happen. I turn my head sharply at the last second, and his lips graze my cheek instead.
The crowd gasps, but I refuse to meet his gaze. My defiance is palpable.
When he pulls back, his expression hardens. A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, but he quickly masks it with his usual cold demeanor.
The priest, clearly flustered, declares, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
The applause resumes, louder this time, but all I can think about is the storm brewing between Dante and me.
As we walk down the aisle together, his grip on my hand tightens, a silent warning. But I’m not afraid. If he thinks I’ll be an obedient little wife, he’s in for a rude awakening.
This is just the beginning.
- Writer
