The morning sunlight streamed through Ariana's bedroom curtains, but it felt like a spotlight exposing her dread. She had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, Alexander's words echoed like a curse:
"Tomorrow, you either walk into City Hall as my wife… or you walk away with nothing."
Her father's face flashed in her mind—lined with exhaustion, broken by failure. Her brother's innocent smile, still believing she could make everything right. Ariana gripped the bedsheets until her knuckles turned white. She didn't have a choice.
By nine a.m., a sleek black limousine waited outside her apartment. The chauffeur, expressionless, held the door open. Ariana hesitated only a moment before stepping inside.
The air inside was cool, scented faintly with leather and something sharper—Alexander's cologne. He sat across from her in a flawless suit, as if the entire world bent to his order. His icy eyes flicked up from his phone, briefly scanning her simple cream dress.
"You're on time," he said. "Good. I don't tolerate lateness."
Ariana clenched her jaw. "I'm not here because I want to be."
His lips curved faintly—not a smile, more like acknowledgment of a fact. "No one ever is, Miss Lopez. But you'll learn that desire has little place in business—or in marriage."
The car pulled smoothly into traffic. Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Ariana stared out the window, heart racing with every passing building. She wanted to scream at him, demand why he had chosen her of all people. But she knew the answer: desperation. She was convenient. Replaceable.
When they arrived at City Hall, reporters swarmed like bees to honey. Flashes of cameras erupted, and questions flew through the air.
"Mr. Reid, is this your mystery bride?"
"Miss Lopez, how long have you two been together?"
"Is this a love match or a business deal?"
Alexander's arm slipped around Ariana's waist before she could react, pulling her close. The gesture was intimate enough to make her pulse stutter, but his grip was like steel.
"Smile," he murmured, his lips brushing dangerously close to her ear. "You don't want them thinking you're a hostage."
Her blood boiled, but she forced a stiff smile at the cameras. The reporters erupted even louder.
Inside the marble-floored hall, the ceremony was swift, clinical. No flowers, no music, no vows of love—just signatures on a contract disguised as a marriage license.
"Do you, Alexander Reid, take Ariana Lopez—"
"I do." His voice was steady, without hesitation.
"Do you, Ariana Lopez, take Alexander Reid—"
Her throat tightened. Her hands trembled as the weight of the words pressed down. She wanted to scream no. To run. But the thought of her family's ruin loomed larger than her fear.
"I… I do."
The officiant smiled, oblivious to the storm raging between them. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."
Ariana exhaled shakily, her chest hollow. It was done. She was now bound to a man who didn't believe in love, who treated her like a pawn in a game only he understood.
The moment the officiant left, Alexander turned to her. His eyes were sharp, unreadable. He leaned close, his whisper colder than the ring now circling her finger.
"Welcome to your new life, Mrs. Reid. Remember the first rule—" His gaze pinned hers, unyielding. "—never defy me."
Her breath caught. Because in that instant, Ariana realized something terrifying: she had just entered not a marriage… but a war.