The days leading up to the wedding passed in a blur of silks, diamonds, and whispered expectations. The Montgomery estate was transformed into a vision of opulence—crystal chandeliers gleamed under the golden glow of candlelight, velvet-lined invitations were sent to the highest circles of society, and Lydia's bridal gown had been hand-stitched by the finest couturiers.
But beneath the glamour, there was tension.
Lydia could feel it in every measured glance from her stepmother, in the hushed conversations that ceased when she entered a room, in the way Adrian's name was spoken with a mixture of reverence and unease.
Something wasn't right.
---
Three nights before the wedding
Lydia sat at her vanity, staring at her own reflection. The weight of obligation pressed heavily against her chest. She had been raised for this world, trained to play the role of a perfect bride. And yet, she felt like a prisoner in golden chains.
A knock at her door.
"Come in," she said, expecting one of the maids.
But when the door opened, it wasn't a servant.
It was her stepsister, Camille.
Lydia stiffened. The two of them had never been close, and for good reason. Camille had always been their stepmother's favorite, the daughter meant to marry into wealth. Lydia had been the afterthought, the expendable one.
So why was she here now?
Camille lingered by the door, arms folded. "You must be thrilled."
Lydia gave her a measured look. "Hardly."
A scoff. "Oh, please. You're marrying Adrian Callisto. The most powerful man in the city. Some women would kill for that."
Lydia's fingers tightened around the edge of her vanity. "And yet, you were the one meant to marry him. Until Mother changed her mind."
Camille's jaw tightened. "You think I wanted this? That I wanted to be tied to a man like him?"
Lydia arched a brow. "Then why are you here?"
Silence stretched between them. Then, Camille took a slow step forward. "Because you're blind if you don't see it, Lydia. Something is wrong."
A chill ran down Lydia's spine. "What are you talking about?"
Camille hesitated, then lowered her voice. "People are whispering. About Adrian. About his family. About why this marriage is happening so suddenly."
Lydia swallowed. She had wondered the same.
Camille's voice dropped even further. "And you should ask yourself why Mother was so eager to give you away instead of me."
Lydia's blood turned to ice.
She had spent years trying to earn her stepmother's approval, trying to prove she was more than just a burden. But had she ever truly been wanted? Or had she just been a pawn in a game she didn't even understand?
---
Meanwhile…
Adrian stood in his private study, swirling a glass of whiskey between his fingers. His grandfather sat across from him, watching him with shrewd eyes.
"You're hesitating," the old man said.
Adrian exhaled, placing his glass down. "No. I'm waiting."
His grandfather's lips curled. "She's not ready."
"No."
"She doesn't know what's coming."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "She doesn't need to."
His grandfather let out a chuckle. "You sound like you care."
Adrian shot him a cold look. "I care about ensuring that this marriage serves its purpose."
Silence. Then, the older man leaned back, eyes gleaming. "Good. Because if she gets in the way, you know what must be done."
Adrian didn't respond.
Because for the first time, he wasn't sure if he would do what needed to be done.