Shattered Vows

Surprise

The grand ceremonial hall fell into a heavy silence as Abigeal stood at the altar, her pulse thundering in her ears. Vincent's hand was firm around hers, his smirk widening as the priest began the vows. His voice droned on, but the words melted into nothingness for Abigeal. She stared ahead, feeling as though she were walking a tightrope above an abyss. Her lips felt dry, her heart heavy with the dread of what was to come.

Vincent leaned in slightly, his breath hot against her ear. "Smile, Abigeal," he murmured. "This is your moment."

She forced a faint, lifeless smile, knowing it wasn't enough to satisfy him. Her mind raced as she contemplated the inevitable. It was happening. The life she feared was upon her, and there was no way out.

Vincent's vows were brief, sharp, and devoid of love. He spoke of power and alliance, each word twisting deeper into Abigeal's gut like a dagger. She barely heard him, her thoughts drifting to some distant place where she was free, where the weight of responsibility didn’t rest so heavily on her shoulders.

The priest turned to her now, expectant eyes locking on hers as he asked her to speak. Abigeal's breath hitched. She swallowed hard, the words she'd rehearsed so many times seeming to vanish from her mind. Her fingers trembled in Vincent's grasp as she opened her mouth to recite the vow that would bind her forever to him.

But before she could utter a word, the grand doors at the back of the hall burst open with a thunderous crash. Every head in the room snapped toward the commotion, and a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Men dressed in black strode into the hall, their heavy boots echoing against the marble floors. They moved with precision and purpose, their expressions unreadable beneath the shadow of their hoods.

Abigeal's heart lurched. Her father, the king, rose from his seat, fury blazing in his eyes. "What is the meaning of this?" he thundered, his voice shaking the walls. "How dare you interrupt this sacred ceremony!"

The men in black continued forward without a word, the crowd parting for them as though an invisible force commanded it. Then, at the center of their formation, a figure emerged, dressed in immaculate white. His raven-black hair gleamed under the sunlight streaming through the windows, and his icy grey eyes locked onto Abigeal the moment he stepped into view.

Alexander Haze.

Abigeal's breath caught in her throat, her knees threatening to buckle. She blinked, hardly believing what she saw. Alexander, the very man she had once foolishly begged to marry her, the same man who had coldly rejected her proposal, stood before her with a devilish grin playing at the corners of his lips.

"Hope I'm not too late," Alexander said smoothly, his voice rich with amusement. He looked at her with an intensity that made Abigeal's skin flush.

Vincent's grip tightened painfully on her hand, his calm façade beginning to crack. "What is the meaning of this?" he hissed, his eyes narrowing at Alexander.

Abigeal's thoughts swirled in confusion. Why was Alexander here? He had refused her in the past, turned away without a second thought. And yet now, here he stood, at her wedding, of all places.

Before she could speak, her father's voice boomed once more. "Guards!" the king roared, motioning for them to draw their weapons. "Remove these men at once!"

The royal guards rushed forward, drawing sleek firearms from their holsters, ready to take action. But then Vincent's eyes flicked toward them, and a sudden recognition flashed across their faces. One by one, they halted, their movements slow and hesitant, as though they had just realized the gravity of who they were facing.

Alexander chuckled softly, his confidence unwavering. He turned his attention back to Abigeal, his smile never faltering. "I've come to take my wife," he declared, the words sending shockwaves through the hall.

Vincent's expression turned stormy. "Your wife?" he spat, venom dripping from every word. "She's mine. She will be queen of Dysheria, and you will not interfere."

But Alexander only shook his head, his eyes gleaming with something almost predatory. He motioned to one of the men in black, who stepped forward, producing a sleek tablet. With a few taps, the screen lit up, displaying a document that sent a shiver down Abigeal's spine.

It was a marriage certificate, with her name signed next to Alexander's.

Abigeal stared at it, her mind reeling. She didn’t remember signing anything—how could this be? The tablet was passed around the crowd, which included influential business owners and the richest tycoons from various industries, their murmurs growing louder as everyone saw the undeniable truth. Her signature was there, clear as day.

Alexander's voice cut through the rising whispers like a blade. "Not only that," he said, his gaze locking with Vincent's, "but we have footage from last night." Another flick of his fingers, and the tablet screen changed to show a video from the party she had attended, a conversation with Alexander where she had—unknowingly—signed the contract.

Her blood ran cold. She remembered talking to him, but there had been no mention of a marriage contract. And yet, there it was. The evidence was irrefutable.

The king's face twisted with rage as he took in the scene, his fury palpable. He stepped forward, towering over Alexander. "This is absurd!" he barked. "I will not allow this farce to continue. My daughter belongs to Vincent."

Alexander's smile never wavered. "With all due respect, Your Majesty," he said coolly, "the law is the law. She signed the contract, and that makes her my wife."

The king's eyes flickered with uncertainty. He knew Alexander was right, but to accept it would be to relinquish control, to let go of the future he had so carefully crafted for Abigeal. His chest heaved with anger, but there was no arguing with the legalities.

Vincent, however, wasn't willing to back down so easily. "You think a piece of paper will stop this wedding?" he snarled, stepping toward Alexander, his hand twitching near his gun. "She is mine."

Alexander's men tensed, ready to act if needed, but Alexander held up a hand, stopping them. He met Vincent's gaze with a cold, unwavering stare. "Let her decide, then," Alexander said quietly, his voice dropping low enough that only those close to the altar could hear. "Ask her who she wants to be with."

Abigeal's heart pounded as both men turned to her, their eyes demanding an answer. Her mind raced, panic gripping her. The weight of the moment pressed down on her, making it difficult to breathe.

Vincent's eyes burned with possessiveness, his intentions clear. He wanted power, control, and she was the key to it all. Alexander, on the other hand, stood with a strange calmness, as though he already knew what her answer would be.

"Abigeal," Alexander said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. "Come with me."

Tears pricked at her eyes as she looked between the two men. Her entire future hung in the balance, and yet, for the first time, she felt the flicker of something she hadn’t in so long—hope. She wasn’t sure why Alexander had come or what his true intentions were, but standing here, with the whole world watching, she knew one thing for certain.