The Wedding She Didn't Choose
The sound of shattering glass pulled Lin Yue out of her daze.
Mo Chen didn't flinch. He merely straightened his jacket, as if the chaos beyond the door had nothing to do with him. "Time's ticking, Lin Yue."
Her jaw clenched. "You're a monster."
"Perhaps." He moved toward the door, but stopped just long enough to look back at her. "You'll find I'm a monster who keeps his word. Midnight."
He left her alone in the dim lounge, the contract still lying on the table like a trap she couldn't stop staring at.
She should leave. She should run. She should burn that paper.
But she couldn't.
The photo of her brother was burned into her mind—those terrified eyes, the bruises on his cheek.
By the time the clock's hands brushed midnight, she knew her answer.
---
The wedding was arranged with the efficiency of someone who didn't believe in obstacles. Within twenty-four hours, Lin Yue was standing in a private registry office, the ink of her name drying on a marriage certificate that felt like a death sentence.
She hadn't told anyone. There was no one to tell. The world thought the Lin family was gone, and maybe they were right.
Mo Chen stood beside her, tall and impossibly composed in his tailored black suit. To anyone watching, they looked like a perfect couple—his hand resting lightly at the small of her back, her silk dress hugging her frame just so.
Only she knew the truth—that every touch was a chain, every smile a lie.
The registrar slid the documents toward them. "Sign here."
Lin Yue hesitated. Her pen hovered above the paper.
Mo Chen leaned in, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "Do it, Lin Yue. Or your brother disappears before sunrise."
Her stomach twisted, but she signed.
He signed immediately after, his pen strokes confident, final.
The registrar congratulated them. Lin Yue barely heard it over the roaring in her ears.
---
When they stepped outside, the city was drenched in gold light from the streetlamps. A black Bentley waited at the curb.
As he opened the car door for her, Mo Chen leaned close enough for his breath to brush her ear.
"Now you're mine," he murmured. "And I don't share."
The words slid into her like ice, but she forced herself into the car, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
The Bentley purred through the streets, the city blurring past the tinted windows. She sat rigid in her seat, her hands knotted together.
"You're quiet," Mo Chen observed.
"There's nothing to say."
"There will be." His tone was calm, but it carried the weight of certainty.
They turned into a long, gated driveway. The mansion that rose ahead looked more like a fortress—glass, steel, and stone looming against the night sky. Armed guards stood at the entrance, their expressions unreadable.
Inside, the place was all sharp lines and understated wealth. The marble floors gleamed under soft lighting, and the air smelled faintly of cedar and something darker—him.
A woman in a black dress appeared at the top of the staircase, her lipstick the exact shade of blood. "You didn't tell me you were bringing home a wife," she said smoothly.
Lin Yue's steps faltered.
Mo Chen didn't look at the woman. "Valerie, this is Lin Yue. Lin Yue, this is none of your concern."
The woman's smile didn't reach her eyes. "We'll see about that."
Lin Yue ignored her, following Mo Chen upstairs. Every door they passed was closed. Every window had security bars hidden behind the curtains.
He stopped before a set of double doors and pushed them open. The room beyond was enormous—floor-to-ceiling windows, a balcony overlooking the city, and a bed big enough to swallow her whole.
"This is your room," he said.
Her head snapped toward him. "Separate rooms?"
"For now," he said, his gaze lingering just long enough to make her heartbeat trip. "But don't mistake that for freedom."
He handed her a keycard. "The house has rules. Break them, and you'll regret it."
She took the card without a word.
He started to leave, but paused at the door. "Oh, and one more thing, Lin Yue."
"What?"
"Tomorrow, you'll meet the press. They'll think you married me for love. Don't disappoint me."
---
The door clicked shut behind him. Lin Yue sank onto the edge of the bed, her hands curling into fists.
She would survive this. She would find her brother. And when she did, she would burn Mo Chen's empire to the ground.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound—faint, but unmistakable.
Glass breaking.
Again.
Only this time, it came from somewhere inside the mansion.
Cliffhanger: The lights flickered once, then went out, plunging her into darkness.