Chapter 4: The Wedding
421 Words
Lydia Harper froze.
For a moment, she couldn’t process it.
Me?
Her mother had died when she was four.
All she remembered was warmth. A gentle voice. A soft smile.
There had been talk of an engagement once…
But after her mother passed, it was never mentioned again.
Samuel Harper frowned slightly.
“The Blackwood family is at the top now,” he said slowly. “Lydia… you’re too simple. I’m afraid you won’t fit in.”
Marriage into wealth was never easy.
And his daughter—too gentle.
She would suffer.
“I’m willing.”
Her voice was soft but steady.
Samuel stared at her.
“What did you say?”
Lydia lifted her head.
“I’m willing to marry Alexander Blackwood.”
Vivienne Blackwood let out a relieved smile.
“Wonderful. Then we’ll skip the engagement. The wedding will be on the eighth of next month.”
Her expression softened.
“Alexander’s grandmother is very ill. Late-stage liver cancer. She doesn’t have much time left. We want her to see this marriage.”
A quiet sigh escaped her lips.
“But don’t worry. I truly like Lydia. I won’t let Alexander treat her poorly.”
Samuel hesitated.
But in the end—he nodded.
“Alright.”
There was no real room to refuse.
Soon, the betrothal gifts arrived. Along with a card. Five million.
Time flew.
Before long, the wedding day arrived.
The sky was clear. Sunlight soft and warm.
A perfect day.
Because of the matriarch’s condition, the ceremony was small—only close family and a few trusted guests.
The venue: the most famous church in City B.
Lydia wore a custom white gown. A diamond tiara sparkled under the light.
Her elegance was breathtaking.
Step by step, she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm.
At the end—Alexander Blackwood.
Black suit. Polished shoes. Tall and straight.
Every detail screamed perfection.
Samuel placed her hand into his.
“Her mother passed away. Take good care of her.”
Alexander didn’t look at him.
“Mm.” That was all.
The priest began.
“Mr. Alexander Blackwood, do you take Ms. Lydia Harper as your lawful wife…”
The vows echoed through the church.
All eyes turned to the groom. Silence. A long silence.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
Edward Blackwood’s face darkened.
“If you mess this up,” he muttered, “you’ll regret it.”
Vivienne patted his arm.
“It’ll be fine.”
Finally—Alexander spoke.
“I do.”
- Writer
