chapter 5 ~ The wedding
751 Words
liana's pov
The string quartet was already playing when the doors opened.
Every sound in the cathedral seemed to stretch, soft and distant — the hush of hundreds of guests, the click of cameras, the faint rustle of silk as I stood framed in white.
They said it would be beautiful.
They never said it would feel like a cage.
I drew a slow breath, fixing my gaze straight ahead.
And then I saw him.
Adrian Cole.
My husband-to-be.
The man I’d promised myself to never want, never trust, never forgive.
He stood at the altar in a perfectly tailored black suit, every line of his body controlled and deliberate.
His expression gave nothing away, yet when our eyes met, the world tilted.
For one fleeting heartbeat, admiration slipped past the walls I’d built — and I hated myself for it.
He looked devastating.
Unreachable.
And in that moment, I wondered if he knew what he was doing to me.
The aisle felt endless.
My father’s arm was heavy against mine as he led me forward, pride radiating from him like he hadn’t just sold me off for business gain.
Cameras flashed; people whispered.
But I couldn’t hear them.
All I could hear was my pulse, loud and uneven.
Adrian’s gaze didn’t move once.
It followed me — steady, unreadable, burning.
When I reached him, he offered his hand.
The warmth of his palm bled through my gloves, a quiet spark that curled somewhere low in my stomach.
I didn’t want to feel it.
But I did.
He leaned close, voice low enough that only I could hear.
“You look… unexpected,” he murmured.
I met his eyes, forcing my lips into a polite smile.
“So do you. For a man with no heart.”
A flicker of amusement crossed his face before he turned to the priest.
The ceremony began.
Adrian's pov
She was supposed to look like a weapon — sharp and cold, just like the family she came from.
But when the doors opened and she appeared in that white silk gown, the world around me blurred into nothing.
Every step she took down the aisle pulled at something I hadn’t planned for.
Her hair glowed under the lights, her eyes defiant even through the shimmer of tears she refused to shed.
Beautiful, I thought.
And dangerous.
When her father handed her to me, I caught the faint tremor in her hand.
Pride. Anger. Fear.
I didn’t know which — only that it made her human, and I hated that I noticed.
The priest’s voice droned on — vows, promises, the binding of two names that didn’t belong together.
To the crowd, we were perfect.
To me, we were a reckoning.
“Do you, Adrian Cole, take this woman—”
“I do,” I said before the question finished, voice steady.
Every syllable was an oath to the ghost of my father, to the boy who’d lost everything to her family’s greed.
When she repeated her vows, her tone didn’t waver once.
But I could see the storm behind her composure.
The way she held her chin high even as her fingers tightened around mine.
The ring slid onto her hand — a small, cold circle of power.
And yet, when her gaze met mine again, the air between us changed.
The priest smiled.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Liana's pov
The words hit like a drumbeat.
Every camera tilted forward.
Every whisper paused.
He moved first.
Slow.
Certain.
A hand at my waist, the other rising to my jaw with the kind of care that didn’t belong here.
.
“Smile,” he murmured.
And then his lips found mine.
It wasn’t gentle.
It wasn’t cruel.
It was calculated — slow enough to be believable, deep enough to make the world gasp.
For a moment, I forgot the crowd.
The lights.
The vows that weren’t ours.
My pulse jumped.
His hand tightened slightly, keeping me still.
He tasted like control — and something darker I didn’t want to name.
When he finally pulled back, the applause erupted.
Reporters shouted our names.
Flashbulbs burst like fireworks.
He leaned close, his breath brushing the shell of my ear.
“Now you are finally mine,” he whispered.
I smiled for the cameras.
But under the veil, my voice was steady.
“who's yours, Adrian?”
He looked down at me then adjust my veil, eyes unreadable.
“That you belong to me.”
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