4 : A Wife On Display
513 Words
The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Stone Tower, but Amelia felt no warmth. She sat at the vanity table, her reflection staring back at her with wide, uncertain eyes. Her wedding ring glittered mockingly on her finger—a reminder of the chains she now wore.
A knock at the door. Before she could answer, Alexander strode in. Immaculate in a charcoal suit, his expression unreadable, he looked like he was ready to command an empire.
“You’re late,” he said coldly.
Amelia bristled. “Late for what?”
“Our first appearance as Mr. and Mrs. Stone. The media is waiting downstairs. Investors too. You’ll smile, hold my arm, and say nothing unless spoken to.” His eyes flicked over her gown, a chic pale blue Alexander had sent up earlier. “At least you clean up well.”
Her jaw tightened. “And if I decide not to play the perfect little doll?”
He leaned down, his voice low enough to scrape across her nerves. “Then you’ll watch your father’s company crumble before sunset.”
Amelia’s heart squeezed, but she forced her expression into one of calm defiance. “Fine. But don’t expect me to worship the ground you walk on.”
A shadow of a smirk tugged at his lips. “Don’t worry, Amelia. I’ve never needed anyone’s worship.”
⸻
The black limousine glided to a halt outside the Stone Enterprises headquarters. Paparazzi swarmed like vultures, cameras flashing, microphones thrust forward.
The moment Amelia stepped out, whispers rippled through the crowd.
She’s the new Mrs. Stone?
She doesn’t look like his type.
How long do you think it’ll last?
Her cheeks burned, but she held her head high. She would not let them see her falter.
Alexander offered his arm. For a moment, she hesitated—but the cameras were relentless, and his cold gaze demanded compliance. She slipped her hand through his arm, her posture regal despite the storm inside her.
Inside the towering glass building, investors and board members awaited, champagne glasses in hand. Smiles plastered their faces, but Amelia felt the sharp sting of scrutiny in every glance.
“Alexander,” one of the board members greeted, then turned to Amelia with thinly veiled disdain. “And this must be your… bride. Quite a surprise.”
Alexander’s arm tightened around hers, his voice dangerously calm. “Amelia is not a surprise. She is my wife. And she deserves your respect.”
The room fell silent. Amelia blinked, stunned by his sudden defense. Was it genuine? Or just another performance for power?
She forced a polite smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”
Whispers resumed as they moved through the crowd. But beneath the polished smiles and clinking glasses, Amelia sensed it—doubt. Disapproval. Envy.
And as Alexander’s hand lingered possessively on her waist, she realized something chilling. The world might see her as Mrs. Stone now, but to them, she was nothing more than a pawn.
And pawns were always the first to be sacrificed.
- Writer
