The Prison of Marriage
The grand doors of the hall slowly opened.
Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow, and the fresh scent of lilies filled the air.
Giants of the business world and close relatives turned in unison. Their whispers faded into silence as the bride stepped in.
Lu An Ya (陆安雅) entered, draped in a white silk gown.
A delicate veil shimmered over her head, and the bouquet of light pink and white roses trembled in her hands.
Her eyes held no spark of happiness—only emptiness and pain.
Every step felt like a heavy burden.
The guests applauded politely. Some took photos, while others whispered—
"What a beautiful bride…"
On the stage, in front of an altar adorned with a fusion of Western and Chinese styles, stood Zain—the heir and CEO of Yan Corporation.
Clad in a black suit, his cold and regal aura made him seem like an emperor of the business world.
His deep eyes resembled a bottomless well of ink—dark, unreadable, and merciless.
An Ya lowered her gaze and whispered to herself—
"Father… if you were alive… I would never have had to marry him."
Zain extended his hand toward her.
Reluctantly, An Ya placed hers in his.
Without meeting each other's eyes, they walked to the altar.
The solemn voice of the officiant rang through the hall—
"Mr. Zain, do you accept Miss Lu An Ya as your wife?"
"Yes."
Zain's voice was cold and steady.
"And Miss Lu An Ya, do you accept Mr. Zain as your husband?"
An Ya hesitated.
Hundreds of eyes bore down on her. Escape was impossible.
Her father's memory weighed heavily on her heart.
Finally, she whispered—
"Yes."
A wave of applause erupted.
Madam Yan (Yan Ji Ya, 严姬雅) wiped her tears, proud of her son's marriage.
But An Ya's heart sank even deeper.
The officiant declared—
"You may now kiss the bride."
Unconsciously, An Ya lifted her gaze.
At that moment, Zain grabbed her face, forced it upward, and pressed his lips against hers.
Her eyes widened.
There was no warmth in that kiss—only coldness and cruelty.
Camera flashes lit the hall, and the guests cheered.
To everyone else, it looked like a passionate kiss.
But to An Ya, it was nothing less than humiliation.
Leaning close to her ear, Zain's voice cut through like a blade—
"This marriage… is nothing but a prison."
Inside the Yan mansion, a maid handed Anya a silk top
"Madam, Old Madam Yan wishes for you to wear this at tonight's family dinner."
Anya nodded silently.
Dressed in a white top and simple hair style adorned with jewelry, she gazed at herself in the mirror—
From the outside, she looked like the perfect daughter-in-law,
but in her eyes were scattered, broken dreams.
Clutching her phone to her chest, she stared at an old picture of her father.
"Papa… if you were here, I would never have to endure all this."
The door creaked open.
Zain walked in, his presence instantly changing the air in the room.
Startled, Anya quickly hid her phone and tried to step aside.
But his strong hand caught her wrist in an unyielding grip.
"Where are you going, Mrs. Yan?"
His voice was low, deep, and dangerous.
Zain's hands gripped her shoulders firmly.
Anya struggled to break free.
"I… I was just going downstairs."
Zain raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Oh? I thought you were ignoring me."
Anya turned her face away.
"Yes. I was ignoring you."
His grip tightened.
"Don't forget… I'm both your boss and your husband.
Whether you like it or not, wherever you go—you'll see me."
Her eyes dropped, filled with helplessness.
"What can I do… it's just my fate."
Zain tilted her chin up, cold arrogance glinting in his gaze.
"Fate? Your fate is actually fortunate—you ended up with a wealthy husband like me.
Think about it… your boss is also your husband."
Tears welled in her eyes.
"I don't accept you as my husband. To me, you're only my boss."
A cruel smile played on Zain's lips.
"Believe what you want. But remember one thing—this marriage must remain a secret.
No one should ever know that you're Yan Zain's wife.
Because this marriage is nothing but a name… and for you, a prison."
Anya lowered her head and nodded.
Zain released her wrist. As he turned to leave, he looked back once more.
"Everyone is waiting downstairs. Don't disappoint Old Madam Yan.
And remember—when people are watching, you're Mrs. Yan.
But when you're with me… you're only Miss Lu."
The door slammed shut behind him.
Anya's tears slipped silently down her cheeks.In the grand dining hall of the Yan mansion, a long table was laid out.
Shimmering cutlery, lavish dishes, and people seated on every chair… all eyes turned toward the door.
As Anya stepped inside, Madam Yan's loving gaze instantly softened.
"Finally, you're here… my son's bride looks so lovely."
Nervously, Anya whispered,
"I'm sorry… I got a little late."
Madam Yan smiled, taking her hand.
"That's alright. Come, meet everyone."
She gently led Anya toward the table.
Zain was already seated. His eyes carried neither warmth nor curiosity. He didn't even look her way.
Then, a cousin chuckled lightly,
"Oh… so this is Mrs. Yan? She looks so ordinary. I heard her father passed away just a few days ago."
Laughter rippled across the table.
Anya bit her lip, lowering her gaze.
Another relative sneered,
"Yes, I heard the same. Honestly, this marriage is nothing but repaying a debt. Otherwise, our Zain wouldn't even look at her."
Someone else added mockingly,
"Exactly… daughters of business tycoons and even celebrities were desperate for Zain. And now, this girl? I almost pity him."
Anya's ears burned.
Her heart longed to walk away, but the image of her father flashed in her mind. She held back her tears.
She wanted to answer back, but the weight of the moment sealed her lips.
Her eyes, almost instinctively, lifted toward Zain.
She hoped—just maybe—he would speak up for her.
But Zain only raised his wine glass, took a slow sip, and turned his cold gaze away.
Silence spread across the table.
Anya's heart sank deeper… she felt utterly alone in that glittering mansion.
Then Madam Yan's strong voice cut through the air—
"The Yan family may have a lot wealth, but I don't want an arrogant daughter-in-law who disrespects elders. I
I've known Anya since childhood. She has always been good-hearted… and it was my only wish that my son marry her. Today, that wish has come true."
She raised her wine glass.
"This is a celebration—for my daughter-in-law."
The hall fell quiet.
With trembling hands, Anya lifted her glass, forcing a faint smile as she took a sip.
Zain noticed. His face tightened suddenly.
He slammed his glass onto the table, shot Anya a fiery look, and without a word, walked away.
"What happened to Zain?" one relative muttered.
Madam Yan turned to Anya, her voice gentle.
"Anya, go and see… why he left."
Anya nodded with a soft smile and quietly followed him.
Madam Yan sat down.
Zain's father, Chengzhao Yan, spoke in his deep voice—
"You did the right thing, Jiya."
Yan Jiya smiled faintly.
"I know. Our family may need wealth, but not pride… and I've always wanted a daughter-in-law like Anya."
Their younger daughter Lian leaned forward curiously—
"But what happened to brother? Why did he leave like that?"
Yan Jiya sighed deeply.
"I don't know… but your sister-in-law will see. Hopefully, Zain won't take his anger out on her.Outside, in the parking lot—
Zain angrily pulled open his car door.
Anya followed quietly, her voice calm but firm.
"Why did you walk out like that?"
Zain's eyes narrowed in disdain.
"And what's that to you?"
Anya, steady and composed, replied—
"It doesn't matter to me… but Mother asked me to check on you."
Zain clapped his hands slowly, lips curling in a bitter smile.
"Wow. Incredible. Inside, everyone mocked you, and you just sat there quietly. Now here you are, daring to talk back? You truly deserve an award for playing the innocent."
A faint shimmer of tears appeared in Anya's eyes, but her voice was steady.
"And you? You sat there too, didn't you? You heard everything. Yet you didn't say a word either."
This time, Zain looked at her differently. Not with coldness—but with something unfamiliar flickering in his gaze.
Anya's voice broke slightly as she whispered—
"My mistake was… thinking you would stand by me."
With that, she turned away. But after a few steps, she paused and looked back.
"Do call Mother… so she won't worry because of me."
She walked off, leaving Zain behind.
His fists clenched tightly.
For the first time, regret glimmered in his eyes.
Yet the cold walls inside him still held firm. Just like Anya, he too waited—
Waited for her to finally speak up for herself… and stand her ground.