The wedding came faster than Amaya could fight it.
One week. That was all Adrian Cole needed to turn her world into a gilded prison.
The cathedral gleamed with white roses and crystal chandeliers, but to Amaya it felt like a cage. Reporters crowded outside, the city buzzing with the shocking union of its coldest billionaire and a woman no one had seen in his shadow before.
Her veil concealed the fury in her eyes.
Her fists curled beneath silk gloves.
She wasn't a bride—she was a pawn.
The organ thundered, and she walked down the aisle on trembling legs, each step heavy with rage. Adrian waited at the altar, flawless in his tailored suit, expression unreadable.
When she reached him, his hand closed over hers. Warm. Firm. Possessive.
"Beautiful," he murmured, lips curved in that maddening smirk. "Even in chains."
Her heart twisted, but she forced her chin high. "Don't flatter yourself. I'll never be yours."
The priest's voice boomed, binding them with sacred words neither of them believed in. Amaya's chest tightened as Adrian slipped the diamond ring onto her finger—a ring that glittered like a shackle.
When it came time to kiss the bride, Amaya turned her face in defiance. But Adrian caught her chin, holding her still, and claimed her lips in front of the world. The kiss wasn't tender—it was a declaration of ownership. A promise of war.
The cameras flashed wildly, sealing their image as the city's most powerful couple. But behind her smile, Amaya whispered to herself:
This is only the beginning. You may have trapped me, Adrian Cole, but one day, you'll regret ever putting your ring on my hand.