"This marriage means nothing to me," Conrad hissed under his breath, his voice low but laced with venom. His grip on her wrist tightened slightly as his cold eyes bored into hers. "You tricked me into it. And I swear, Alice, you're going to regret this day for the rest of your life."
The guests around them cheered, oblivious. The chandelier above shimmered. The wedding stage gleamed. Photographers captured the moment they were declared husband and wife.
And Alice?
She didn't even blink.
Instead, she smiled—slow and wicked—and stepped closer until her body brushed his, like they were the perfect newlyweds. With deliberate grace, she reached out and dusted something imaginary off his perfectly tailored suit, her fingertips lingering a little too long on his chest.
"Shhh, darling," she whispered, voice like silk wrapped around steel. "Don't act like a jerk while we're in front of people who would sell their souls to see the mighty Conrad Adelson lose control."
Then, louder, and with a playful giggle meant entirely for the crowd, she said,
"We're finally married! Can you believe it?"
Her smile widened for the cameras.
Conrad clenched his jaw so hard, she swore she heard his teeth grind. But she wasn't done.
Leaning in until her lips nearly brushed his ear, she whispered in a voice that was honey-dipped poison.
"Stop pretending like someone held a gun to your head. You walked right into your own trap—the one you set for someone else. I just happened to step in..."
His entire posture tensed.
She pulled back, locking eyes with him—bold, unflinching, a woman who had already made peace with the war she was walking into.
"Smile, my dear husband," she added sweetly. "Because I don't think your darling father will appreciate it if people start whispering that his son was outwitted by the very woman he married."
For a long, heavy second, neither moved.
Then Conrad let out a low, mocking laugh. It was the kind of laugh that didn't touch his eyes.
"You want a smile?" he asked coolly, wrapping an arm tightly around her waist and pulling her against him. The world faded, and now it was just them — face to face, breath to breath, pride against pride.
His voice dropped, venomous and dark.
"I'll make your life a living hell, Alice. You think you've won? This was your biggest mistake. And I promise… you'll beg for a way out."
Alice tilted her head and smiled—completely unfazed. Her hand glided up to cup his cheek, deceptively gentle.
"And I'll make sure you burn right alongside me, Conrad."
Her fingers slipped into his hair, nails grazing lightly against the back of his neck.
"You started the game. Now watch how I play it."
Then, without giving him the chance to respond, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his — not soft, not shy, but with the defiance of a queen declaring war at her own coronation.
The cameras flashed. The crowd cheered louder, none the wiser.
But deep inside the newlyweds, storms were already raging.
And this… this was only the beginning.
(One Month Ago.....)
The morning sun streamed in gently through the sheer curtains, casting soft golden patterns across the floor. Birds chirped lazily outside, and the city hummed to life, but inside the apartment, peace still reigned—at least for a few more seconds.
Alice lay cocooned in her blanket like a burrito, her hair a messy halo around her face, breathing steadily as if the chaos of the world had nothing to do with her.
That is, until her best friend barged in.
"Alice!" Emaa's voice rang out like a fire alarm as she marched into the room with wild urgency. She didn't waste time shaking her or whispering sweet wake-up calls. No, Emaa was more of the snatch-the-blanket-and-run type. And she did exactly that.
In one dramatic pull, the cozy warmth of Alice's blanket disappeared.
"Ughhh," Alice groaned, trying to grab it back blindly. "Emaa, please. Just five more minutes. My soul hasn't even returned to my body yet."
"Your soul's gonna need CPR if you don't wake up right now," Emaa snapped, arms crossed. "It's already 8:30!"
Alice barely cracked an eye open. "And?"
"And?" Emaa's voice jumped an octave. "Have you completely forgotten? That demon boss of yours—Conrad freaking Adelson—is coming back from his business trip today!"
That did it.
Alice shot up like she'd been electrocuted. "What?! Today?!"
Emaa gave her a mock-innocent smile, leaning against the doorframe with all the dramatic flair of someone enjoying someone else's panic. "Yes, today, Sleeping Beauty. The ice-cold CEO you work for. The man who terrifies the entire corporate building with a single eyebrow raise. The same man who specifically told everyone he wants a progress report the moment he steps into the office. Remember now?"
"Oh my God," Alice muttered, her eyes wide. "I'm dead. I'm literally dead."
She sprang off the bed, nearly tripping over a pile of clothes, and sprinted toward the bathroom. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?!"
"I did try last night," Emaa called after her, laughing. "But you threw a pillow at my face and mumbled something about marrying coffee!"
In the bathroom, Alice was already brushing her teeth like her life depended on it. "No time for your sass, Emaa! Get dressed. Get the car ready. We need to leave in twenty minutes!"
As the chaos escalated, Emaa began picking out clothes for Alice, tossing a blazer and matching pants onto the bed. "You really think you're going to survive a day under Conrad's death stare without coffee?"
"I'll drink it in the car. Now go!"
Twenty-five minutes later, both girls were racing down the apartment stairs, shoes half-tied, makeup barely done, bags swinging as they bolted for the car.
The moment Alice slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, she exhaled shakily. "Okay. Okay. We're not that late. Maybe traffic will be kind."
Emaa buckled her seatbelt and raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe you'll walk into the office, and Mr. Iceberg will freeze you into a popsicle with one look."
"Thanks for the support," Alice muttered, slamming the accelerator. As the car sped down the street, the city around them blurred into a whirl of horns, morning rush, and tension. And deep in her gut, Alice knew — today wasn't going to be an ordinary day. Conrad Adelson was back. And nothing about him ever came quietly.
Meanwhile, As soon as Conrad Adelson stepped out of the airport, he didn't spare a glance for the warm sunlight spilling across the city or the curious passersby whispering his name. There was no pause, no hesitation—he moved with the same precision he ruled boardrooms with. His destination was already set.
Straight to the office.
The black luxury car that pulled up beside the curb was sleek, polished to a mirror-like shine, and unmistakably his. Without a word, his personal assistant, Mr. Liam Brown, stepped out from the front seat, smoothing down his tailored suit jacket before opening the rear passenger door.
"Sir," Liam said formally, dipping his head in quiet respect.
Conrad gave a silent nod and slid into the car, his expression unreadable, the chill in his eyes colder than the air-conditioned cabin. The ride through the city was swift, silent, and efficient—just like the man himself.
Minutes later, the car came to a gentle stop in front of a towering building that seemed to pierce the sky itself.
Amelia.
Etched in elegant silver lettering across the black stone exterior, the name carried legacy, power, and the weight of an empire. The headquarters stood in the heart of the city like a jewel of modern architecture—glass and steel twisted into perfection. Sleek panels reflected the clouds above, while inside, dreams were stitched, bottled, designed, and sold with precision.
Amelia wasn't just a brand. It was a world.Though divided by its vertical floors, the building housed every thriving branch under one roof—Amelia Fashion, Fragrance, Beauty, Accessories, and Fine Jewelry. Together, they formed an empire that dictated luxury itself.