His Mute Bride

CHAPTER 4

The heavy wooden doors of the chapel swung open. The room was mostly empty, occupied only by Fred Smith, a few high-level executives, and Evelyn and Delilah sitting in the front pew looking thoroughly bored. Julian stood near the altar as the best man, giving Daphne a warm, encouraging smile as she entered.

At the end of the long aisle stood Conrad. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes were completely cold as he watched her walk toward him. To anyone else, he looked like a proud groom, but Daphne knew the truth. They were partners in a three-year business arrangement.

Daphne walked down the aisle alone. She kept her chin up, her gaze fixed straight ahead. When she reached the altar, she stood opposite Conrad. He didn't even look at her; he simply stared at the priest.

The priest began the ceremony, his voice echoing in the large, quiet chapel. The words passed by in a blur until it was time for the vows.

"Conrad Smith, do you take Daphne Miller to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the priest asked.

Conrad didn't hesitate this time. He wanted to get this over with. He spoke in a clear, commanding voice. "I do."

The priest then turned to Daphne. "And do you, Daphne, take Conrad to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

The chapel went completely silent. Everyone knew Daphne couldn't speak. The priest handed her a small, elegant leather binder with the wedding vows printed inside. Daphne took the pen attached to it. She looked Conrad directly in the eyes, showing absolutely no fear, and signed her name firmly at the bottom of the marriage certificate.

She closed the binder with a soft click and handed it back to the priest.

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest announced. "You may seal the covenant with a kiss."

Conrad didn't lean in for a real kiss. He stepped forward stiffly, bent his head, and merely brushed his cold lips against her cheek.

"Welcome to hell," he whispered directly into her ear, so low that only she could hear it.

He immediately turned around and walked down the aisle without waiting for her, leaving Daphne to walk out of the chapel by herself.

The reception was nothing more than a formal business dinner with Fred’s associates. Conrad ignored Daphne the entire time, drinking his wine and talking to international clients as if she wasn't even sitting next to him. Evelyn tried to approach Fred Smith to talk about financial arrangements, but Fred’s security team quickly and politely escorted her and Delilah back to their seats.

By midnight, the farce was finally over. A private car drove Conrad and Daphne to Conrad's personal estate a massive, modern penthouse overlooking downtown Seattle.

The elevator opened directly into the living room. The place was beautiful, but it felt cold, decorated only in shades of black, white, and grey. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows showed the city lights flickering through the heavy rain.

Waiting near the hallway was a middle-aged woman with a warm, kind face, dressed in a neat uniform. Conrad gestured toward her coldly. "This is Mary. She will be your personal maid. Her only job is to tend to your needs so you don't have to wander around my space." Mary gave Daphne a reassuring, gentle smile, bowed softly, and left the room.

Conrad then turned around and marched right up to Daphne, towering over her. "Let’s get one thing straight," he said, his voice dripping with venom. "You might have signed that paper, and we might have a three-year deal, but you are an unwanted guest in this house."

Daphne stood her ground. She raised her hands and signed quickly: I know the deal. You don't need to remind me.

Conrad scoffed loudly, waving his hand to dismiss her movements. "Stop doing that with your hands! I already told you in the waiting room, I don't understand your ridiculous sign language, and I have no intention of learning it. If you want to communicate with me in this house, you write it down on a piece of paper or you type it on your phone. Got it?"

Daphne’s eyes flashed with anger. Wanting to get away from him, she turned on her heel to march down the hallway toward her assigned room.

But the polished marble floors were slick, and the long train of her heavy silk wedding dress caught under her heel.

Daphne lost her balance. With a sharp gasp that made no sound, she slipped backward, her arms flailing as she began to fall toward the hard floor.

Before she could hit the ground, a strong arm shot out and caught her securely around the waist.

Conrad pulled her tightly against his chest to steady her. The sudden force brought them completely flush against each other. Daphne’s hands instinctively landed on his broad shoulders for support.

For a long, frozen moment, neither of them moved. The heavy sound of the rain outside was the only noise in the penthouse. Daphne looked up, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs not just from the slip, but from how close he was. From this close, she could smell his expensive cologne and see that his cold blue eyes weren't completely lifeless; they were wide with surprise.

Conrad stared down at her lips, his breath catching. His gaze slowly drifted lower, locking onto the pale, faded scar on her neck left behind by the accident. His expression softened, turning intense and unreadable. Slowly, almost magnetically, his hand lifted from her side. His fingers hovered just millimeters away from her skin, trembling slightly, as if he desperately wanted to touch the scar and erase the pain behind it.

A sudden, intense spark of heat flared between them, catching them both completely off guard.

Conrad recovered first. He quickly stood her up, releasing her waist as if he had just touched hot coal. He cleared his throat, stepping back and fixing his cuffs, his cold mask sliding instantly back into place.

"Watch where you are going," he muttered, his voice flat. "I don't need you breaking a leg on your first night here."

Daphne’s cheeks burned with a deep blush. She pulled her phone out of her purse with trembling fingers, typed furiously for a few seconds, and held the screen up to his face.

The screen read: Fine. We stay out of each other's way.

Conrad read it, his eyes narrowing. "Oh, we will definitely stay out of each other's way. Your bedroom is down the hall to the left. Don't touch my things, don't enter my study, and don't expect me to play the happy husband when we are alone. Tomorrow, my assistant will give you a list of rules for when we have to appear in public together. Until then, stay out of my sight."

He turned on his heel and walked into his master bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Mary gently tapped Daphne on the shoulder, breaking the heavy silence, and guided her down the hall. When Mary pushed the bedroom door open, Daphne stopped in her tracks, completely stunned.

Unlike the rest of the cold, monochromatic penthouse, this room was a breathtaking sea of soft blush pinks, cream colors, and gold accents. A massive canopy bed stood in the center with sheer pink drapes, surrounded by plush velvet chairs, delicate fairy lights, and beautiful floral arrangements. It looked exactly like a sanctuary designed specifically to make someone feel safe.

Daphne turned to Mary, her eyes wide with confusion. She pointed to the beautiful room, then pointed back down the hallway toward Conrad's closed door, raising her eyebrows in a question.

Mary’s smile turned a little guarded, and she lowered her voice. "The house was remodeled entirely on short notice last week, ma'am. I was just told to have it ready for your arrival."

Daphne pulled out her phone and quickly typed: Did Conrad order this?

Mary looked at the screen, then looked away nervously, smoothing down her apron. "I only take my orders from the estate manager, Mrs. Smith. I'm sorry, but I truly don't know the specifics of who drew up the design plans. I just know it was handled under a strict deadline." Mary gave a polite bow. "Please get some rest. I will have breakfast ready for you in the morning."

As the door clicked shut, Daphne was left alone in the gorgeous, warm room. Her waist still tingled where Conrad's arm had held her.

She walked over to the canopy bed, pulling out her phone to text Mateo that she was safe, but her mind stayed anchored on the mystery of the room.