THE WEDDING GIFT🎁
1430 Words
CHAPTER FIVE:
Precellia's POV
The silence that followed the elder's announcement lasted only a few seconds before it was shattered.
The large doors of the hall suddenly opened.
Every head turned.
A man strode inside as though the ceremony had been waiting for him all along.
His expensive suit jacket hung casually over one shoulder, and an arrogant smile played on his lips. The confidence in his walk immediately drew attention from everyone present.
Whispers spread through the hall.
"Young Master Chris."
"He's late again."
"When is he ever on time?"
I watched him curiously.
Unlike Jordan, who carried himself with cold control, Chris seemed to enjoy being noticed. Every pair of eyes in the room was on him, and he appeared to thrive on it.
Then, just as he reached the center aisle, he raised his voice dramatically.
"STOP THE WEDDING!"
Gasps erupted throughout the hall.
Several guests stood up.
The elder looked horrified.
Even I nearly jumped.
For a brief moment, chaos threatened to consume the room.
Then Chris laughed.
A loud, amused laugh.
"Oh, relax."
He waved dismissively.
"I'm joking."
The tension broke immediately.
A few people sighed in relief while others glared at him.
The elder looked ready to throw him out himself.
"This is not the time for one of your games, Christopher!"
Chris grinned unapologetically.
"I know."
His eyes shifted toward Jordan.
"But I couldn't miss my little brother's wedding."
Little brother.
The words carried something strange.
Not affection.
Not warmth.
Something else.
Something hidden beneath the smile.
Without waiting for permission, Chris walked directly toward Jordan.
The room watched.
So did I.
When he reached Jordan, he leaned closer.
Close enough that nobody else could hear.
His grin widened.
He whispered something into Jordan's ear.
I expected anger.
Shock.
At least some reaction.
Instead, Jordan remained calm.
Completely calm.
His expression barely changed.
Then, to my surprise, the corner of his lips lifted.
A small smile.
Almost amused.
"Nice choice," Jordan replied quietly.
Chris froze.
Only for a second.
But it was enough.
Something flashed through his eyes.
Something dark.
Something angry.
His reaction vanished almost instantly, replaced by another smile.
But this one looked forced.
As though Jordan had somehow ruined whatever satisfaction he had expected to gain.
Chris stared at him carefully.
Almost suspiciously.
As if trying to understand why Jordan wasn't upset.
Why he wasn't reacting.
Why he looked so unaffected.
For the first time since entering the hall, Chris looked uncertain.
Jordan simply looked away.
Dismissing him.
That seemed to irritate Chris even more.
Then Chris turned toward me.
A grin appeared on his face again.
And before returning to his seat, he winked.
I blinked in surprise.
The gesture felt strange.
Almost deliberate.
As though I had somehow become part of a conversation I didn't understand.
The ceremony resumed shortly afterward.
But I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened.
About the whisper.
About Jordan's reaction.
And about the way Chris had looked at me afterward.
Something about it bothered me.
Yet no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't figure out why.
---
The wedding itself passed like a dream.
Or perhaps a blur.
I barely remembered most of it.
The vows.
The signatures.
The photographs.
The applause.
Everything happened so quickly.
Before I knew it, people were congratulating us.
Calling me Mrs. Bronks.
The title felt unfamiliar.
Strange.
Heavy.
As though I had stepped into somebody else's life.
When the ceremony finally ended, guests slowly began leaving.
My father approached me.
For one foolish second, I hoped he would say something kind.
Something fatherly.
Something that would make me believe there was still a part of him that cared.
Instead, he looked at me with the same cold expression he had worn for years.
"Do not disgrace our family."
That was all.
No congratulations.
No affection.
No concern.
Just a warning.
My chest tightened.
I lowered my eyes.
"Yes, Father."
He nodded once and walked away.
Just like that.
No hesitation.
No backward glance.
As though marrying me off had simply been another business transaction.
A few moments later, my mother approached.
Unlike my father, she didn't speak immediately.
She simply looked at me.
There was sadness in her eyes.
The same sadness that had lived there ever since Elvis died.
Slowly, she reached up and adjusted a loose strand of my hair.
The gesture was so small.
So simple.
Yet it nearly broke me.
Because it was the closest thing to affection she had shown me in years.
Neither of us mentioned Elvis.
Neither of us mentioned the past.
But somehow it felt like we were both thinking about it.
Then she left too.
And I was alone.
Again.
---
A maid soon appeared.
"Young Madam, please come with us."
I followed her through the estate.
The Bronks mansion was enormous.
Hallways seemed endless.
Everything looked expensive.
Elegant.
Perfect.
Eventually, we arrived at a luxurious bedroom.
The room was larger than any room I had ever slept in.
Several maids immediately began preparing things.
A warm bath.
Fresh clothes.
Fragrant oils.
Everything felt overwhelming.
The bath itself was relaxing.
For the first time all day, I felt some of the tension leave my body.
When I finished, the maids helped dry my hair.
Then one of them handed me a delicate cup of tea.
"Please drink this, Young Madam."
I accepted it.
"What is it for?"
The maids exchanged awkward looks.
One of them cleared her throat.
"It helps ease the pain."
I frowned.
"Pain?"
Nobody answered immediately.
Another maid looked away.
"It is simply traditional, Young Madam."
Confused, I took a sip.
The tea was surprisingly sweet.
Still, their strange behavior left me with more questions than answers.
As they continued preparing me, I overheard two younger maids whispering nearby.
"I feel sorry for her."
"So do I."
Their voices were low.
But not low enough.
"Getting married to Young Master Jordan..."
The second maid nodded.
"Especially after what happened three years ago."
My attention sharpened instantly.
Three years ago?
"What happened?"
Both girls jumped.
Realizing I had heard them.
They immediately shook their heads.
"Nothing, Young Madam."
"Forget we said anything."
Their nervous expressions told me otherwise.
Something had happened.
Something serious.
Before I could press further, they quickly changed the subject.
Soon afterward, they brought out a beautiful silk nightgown.
The fabric was soft and elegant, flowing gracefully around her frame. The champagne-colored silk complemented her fair skin beautifully, while delicate lace details added a touch of sophistication. It wasn't inappropriate, but it was certainly far more elegant and flattering than anything she normally wore.
When I looked into the mirror, I barely recognized myself.
For a moment, I looked like a bride.
Not a sacrifice.
Not a burden.
Just a bride.
The thought made my cheeks warm.
I quickly looked away.
Eventually the maids finished their work and left.
The room became quiet.
Too quiet.
Hours passed.
One hour.
Then two.
Then three.
The clock continued ticking.
I sat on the edge of the bed, wondering if Jordan was even coming.
Maybe he had chosen another room.
Maybe he wanted nothing to do with me.
Maybe—
The bedroom door opened.
My heart jumped.
Jordan walked inside.
Without a word.
His suit jacket was gone.
His tie had disappeared.
He looked tired.
But somehow even more intimidating.
He didn't look at me.
Not once.
Instead, he walked directly toward the bathroom.
Moments later, the sound of running water filled the room.
I sat frozen.
Waiting.
Listening.
Trying to calm my racing heart.
Several minutes later, the bathroom door opened.
Jordan stepped out wearing black pajamas.
The top button near his collar had been left undone, giving him a more relaxed appearance than the cold businessman I had seen throughout the day.
His dark hair was slightly damp.
A few strands had fallen across his forehead.
For the first time, he looked his age.
Not like a powerful heir.
Not like a man carrying years of anger.
Just a man.
Yet somehow that made him even more dangerous.
Because it made him harder to understand.
Still without speaking, he walked toward the bed.
Toward me.
My heartbeat quickened.
One step.
Then another.
And another.
Until he stopped beside me.
Close enough for me to notice the faint scent of soap.
Close enough that my breathing became uneven.
For the first time all night, Jordan looked directly at me.
His blue eyes were unreadable.
Calm.
Quiet.
Dangerously impossible to understand.
Then slowly—
He leaned closer.
And my heart nearly stopped.
- Writer
