Love in Deception.

Chapter Two.

After the shocking revelation from Liam, my heart grew weak and tightened in my chest.

The reception was nothing but a blur of forced smiles and hollow congratulations. Glasses clinked, and Liam’s family and friends toasted to our union, but the air around me was suffocating. His words from the altar clung to me like chains: “This marriage isn’t love, Ana. It’s retribution."

As we danced our first dance as husband and wife, his grip on my waist was firm, almost bruising. His eyes—icy and unreadable—never softened. I tried to convince myself it was just nerves, that marriage made men stiff and guarded. But the way he looked at me, the way he held me, the way he whispered nothing at all… it all felt deliberate. Calculated.

By the time the reception ended, I was desperate for escape. As his driver opened the car door, I slid inside, praying for clarity. Maybe, just maybe, we could talk.

“Liam,” I whispered, “what did you mean by what you said?”

His gaze flicked to mine, dark and unreadable. “You’ll find out soon enough.” His tone was flat and void of emotion, and it silenced me more than if he had shouted.

My heart raced. I needed answers. My father would have been the only one who could explain, but he was gone—leaving me with only my mother and younger brother. The thought pierced me like a blade.

“You said I’m going to pay for what my father did,” I pressed, forcing the words out. “What exactly did he do that you want to take revenge on me for?”

Liam’s silence was louder than any answer. He simply turned to the window, cold and unyielding.

A shiver crept down my spine. Who was this man I had married? The Liam I thought I knew had vanished, leaving behind a stranger with secrets darker than the night.

When we arrived at the penthouse, he led me inside without a word. His grip on my hand was unrelenting. I felt like a prisoner being escorted to her cell.

The apartment was breathtaking—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the glowing city lights, and marble floors gleamed under the soft chandelier glow—but I barely noticed. My world was collapsing too quickly to admire beauty.

Liam set down his glass after pouring himself a drink. “You should get changed,” he said, not even glancing my way. “We have a flight in a few hours.”

“A flight?” My heart skipped. “Where are we going?”

“The Maldives.” His lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. His eyes glinted dangerously in the dim light. “Our honeymoon.”

For a fleeting second, excitement fluttered in me, but it died as quickly as it came. Was this trip meant to bridge the chasm between us—or was it another stage in his game of retribution?

Still, I forced hope into my chest. Whatever his plan was, I’ll turn it into my chance to make him fall in love with me.

“Can you help me with my dress?” I asked softly.

As his fingers tugged at the zipper, our eyes locked in the mirror. His gaze burned into me, dark and lustful.

“You made a beautiful bride today,” he murmured, his hand sliding against my bare skin.

My heart thudded painfully. “I don’t know which part of you I should believe—the man who looks at me like this… or the one who says he only wants revenge.”

“Love?” he muttered, almost spitting the word. “I don’t believe in that. And I told you already—this marriage is all retribution. Nothing more.”

His words sliced through me.

“Get dressed. We’re leaving,” he ordered, striding out of the room without a backwards glance.

I sank onto the bed, his declaration echoing like a curse: 'This marriage is all retribution and nothing like love.'

Tears stung my eyes, but I swallowed them back. Weakness would only push him further away.

The jet ride was suffocating. Liam sat beside me, scrolling through his phone as though I didn’t exist. I stole glances at him, searching for a crack in his armour, but found nothing but ice.

When we landed, the Maldives stretched before us like paradise—white sands, turquoise waters, and villas floating on the sea. To anyone else, it was a dream. To me, it was a golden cage.

The sun glowed brilliantly above us as we were escorted to our overwater villa. I forced myself to smile at the staff as they handed me a fresh flower garland, but inside, my chest tightened. Liam walked beside me, his hand lightly on my back, guiding me forward. His touch was firm, controlling, not affectionate.

When the staff left us alone, I finally turned to him. “Liam,” I said quietly, “you don’t have to keep treating me like I’m your enemy.

That night, as the ocean whispered beyond our villa, Liam finally looked at me. Not with tenderness. Not with love. But with something darker. His touch was possessive, punishing even, though I caught glimpses of a man struggling to bury something he didn’t want me to see.

“Why are you doing this to me?” My voice broke as the words left me.

His jaw clenched. For a second, silence hung heavy between us. Then, in a low, cold tone, he said, “Ask your father—if only he were still alive to answer.

” The words tore through me like glass. My father? My stomach twisted, my breath catching in my throat.

What had he done to the Hawthornes?

And why must I carry the weight of his sins?

In that moment, I knew this honeymoon wasn’t about love at all. It was about secrets. Vengeance. Truth.

And if Liam wanted me to pay for my father’s sins… then I would uncover them.

Even if it shattered me completely.