Love in Deception.

Chapter One.

It was the eve of my wedding day, and I couldn’t believe I would be saying I do to the man who had changed my fate. Everyone was busy with one thing or another, preparing and setting things up for tomorrow’s event.

My bridesmaids and the groomsmen were arriving one after the other for the bachelor’s night party. Clara, my long-time bestie, hugged me from behind, saying with her beautiful smile and dimples,

“Hey girl, how are you?”

“I’m good, dear. Thank you,” I replied.

“Wow, this mansion is huge—more than I expected. You really caught a big fish,” she teased.

“I know, right?”

Clara had been my very good friend since high school. People fondly called us twins from different mothers. We were still having our girly conversation when Liam, my husband-to-be, walked in.

“Hey babe, can I excuse you for a second?” he asked.

Without hesitation, I nodded, signalling my friend before following him.

“You and your girls should get ready. The party is about to begin. I’ll be waiting for you.”

He kissed me on the forehead and left.

We got ready and headed to the venue. My husband and his friends were already there, having drinks and vibing. There were barbecues, suya, turkey wings, and a variety of drinks—Liam had good taste when it came to luxury, and he always went the extra mile to show it.

We joined the men, laughing and dancing to the music, but Liam seemed restless. Barely an hour into the party, he excused himself, asking us to carry on without him.

I was a bit tipsy and needed to rest for the night since tomorrow was the big day. Clara offered to help me to my room.

Halfway there, we heard muffled moans. At first, we thought it was one of the groomsmen with one of my girls. But as we drew closer, my heart shattered.

It was Liam—my Liam—entwined with his ex-girlfriend.

I froze, unable to process what I was seeing. Clara gasped beside me, just as shattered.”

“Liam!” I screamed, my voice trembling with disbelief. “What the hell is going on here?”

He froze, his eyes darkening as he pulled away. “Ana—damn it—you weren’t supposed to see this. Go back. Now."

Tears burned my eyes as I stumbled back. I collapsed onto my bed, tears soaking the pillow as my chest ached with betrayal. Should I cancel this wedding? The question burned in my mind, but so did the image of Liam’s hands on her body. Clara held me as I shook, whispering that I still had a choice. But the choice felt like a cruel joke. Walking away would mean losing everything. Staying meant swallowing the bitter taste of betrayal. By dawn, my tears had dried, but my heart was raw. I told myself he loved me—that she was the one who had thrown herself at him. I would forgive him… and quietly deal with her in my own way.

The next morning, I woke up early and began preparing for the big event.

The silk of my gown clung to my trembling fingers as I stood in front of the mirror. I barely recognised the woman staring back at me. She looked flawless—her long dark hair pinned into a graceful bun, a diamond necklace glistening against her collarbone, and the flowing white dress making her seem as though she had stepped straight out of a dream.

But inside, my heart raced like a trapped bird.

Today was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I was marrying Liam Hawthorne—the man every woman whispered about, the man I had once believed was too far above me to even notice I existed.

And yet, he had noticed. He had chosen me.

I closed my eyes, remembering the first time we met—the way he’d looked at me across the café as though I was the only person in the room. His gaze had been sharp and magnetic, and when he spoke, it felt like he had already decided my fate.

“You belong with me, Ana.” His words still echoed in my memory.

And here I was, minutes away from vowing myself to him forever.

A knock at the door jolted me back to the present. Clara peeked in.

“Everyone’s waiting. You look beautiful,” she said softly, though her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Do I?” I asked weakly.

“You look like a queen,” she assured me, then hesitated. “Ana… are you sure about this?”

The question hit me like cold water. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. But I pushed the doubt deep down where it belonged.

“Yes,” I whispered, more to myself than to her. “I’m sure.”

Minutes later, I walked down the aisle, the weight of every gaze in the glittering ballroom falling on me. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting golden light across the sea of silk gowns and expensive suits.

The Hawthornes were old money—untouchable, powerful, and feared. I had stepped into a world I barely understood, one where every smile hid a secret.

And at the end of the aisle stood Liam.

My breath caught. He was devastatingly handsome in his tailored black suit, his sharp jawline tense, his eyes unreadable pools of grey. But something in his expression made my stomach twist. His lips curved into the faintest smile, but it didn’t touch his eyes.

Still, I told myself it was nerves. Grooms got nervous too, didn’t they?

When I reached him, his hand closed over mine. His grip was firm—too firm. For a second, it felt less like love and more like possession.

I looked up, silently begging for reassurance, but he only stared, unblinking.

The priest began to speak, but his words blurred into background noise. All I could hear was the pounding of my own heartbeat.

“…Do you, Ana, take Liam Hawthorne to be your lawfully wedded husband…?”

“I do.” My voice shook, but I held his gaze, praying he would finally soften.

“…And do you, Liam, take Ana to be your lawfully wedded wife…?”

The room held its breath. Liam’s lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile—it was a smirk. Cold. Calculated.

“I do,” he said smoothly, but the way he spoke made my skin crawl.

The priest continued, and soon it was time for Liam’s vows. I had written mine from the heart, pouring out every ounce of love and hope I carried. But Liam hadn’t let me read his. He wanted it to be a surprise.

He leaned forward slightly, his voice low but carrying enough for everyone to hear.

“I vow,” he said slowly, his eyes locked on mine, “to never forget who you are, Ana. To never let you escape me. And to make sure you pay for every secret… every lie. Just as my father paid for yours.”

The ballroom went deathly silent.

My smile froze. For a second, I thought I had misheard him. That couldn’t have been what he said. But the look in his eyes told me otherwise.

Gasps rippled through the guests. Clara’s hand flew to her mouth. The Hawthornes sat rigid, their expressions unreadable.

Confusion and dread coiled inside me. “Liam—” I whispered.

But he leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear so no one else could hear.

“This marriage isn’t love, Ana,” he murmured, his tone like ice. “It’s retribution.”

The blood drained from my face. The priest stammered, unsure how to proceed, but Liam only straightened, slipping his arm possessively around my waist as though nothing had happened.

The crowd erupted into polite applause, but it sounded hollow—mocking. My entire body went numb.

I thought I had married the man of my dreams. But in that moment, as Liam’s fingers dug into my side like shackles, I realised the truth.

I hadn’t married a saviour.

I had married my enemy.