Aria pov
The champagne bubbles mocked me.
I stood alone in the corner of the Blackwood Estate ballroom, watching two hundred guests celebrate a marriage that felt like a funeral. My wedding dress custom Vera Wang, paid for by my new husband's assistant, felt like a beautiful cage.
Damien Blackwood hadn't looked at me once during the ceremony.
Not when I walked down the aisle. Not when he slid the five-carat diamond onto my finger, not when I signed a business contract. Not even when the officiant pronounced us husband and wife and Damien's lips barely grazed my cheek in what the guests generously called a kiss.
I pressed my hand against my stomach. The secret I carried made everything worse.
Mrs. Chen, one of my mother's society friends, appeared with a champagne flute. "Aria, darling, you look positively radiant."
She smiled brightly. "Where's your handsome groom?"
I forced a smile back. "Taking a business call."
She patted my arm. "Men and their work. You'll get used to it."
I wouldn't get used to it, In fact I couldn't.
My chest tightened as I scanned the ballroom again. Damien was nowhere. Neither was Vivian—I hadn't seen my sister in at least twenty minutes as the knot in my stomach twisted tighter.
This was supposed to be our wedding day. Contract or not, couldn't he at least pretend for a few hours?
A few months ago, when my father Charles had first proposed this arrangement, I'd been horrified. Marry Damien Blackwood, the city's most notorious bachelor CEO, to save our failing family business.
But then the engagement began, and something shifted.
Those late nights when he'd come home exhausted from board meetings. The way his ice-blue eyes would find me across his penthouse. The first time he'd kissed me desperate and hungry, like he was drowning and I was air.
The last time was two weeks ago. He'd been gentle, almost tender. He'd asked me to stay in his bed.
Then he'd disappeared on a "business trip" and avoided me until today.
I approached a passing server. "Have you seen my sister?"
He shook his head. "No, ma'am."
The sick feeling crawled up my throat.
I moved through the crowd, my heels clicking against marble floors. Past curious guests who whispered behind champagne flutes. Past my parents who were too busy networking to notice their daughter's distress. Past the elaborate flower arrangements.
The estate was massive. I checked the library first and it was empty. Then his study was locked. A horrible instinct pulled me toward the east wing.
Guest rooms lined both sides of the hallway. Most doors were closed. But at the end of the corridor, one stood slightly ajar. Light spilled through the gap.
I heard her laugh first. Vivian's laugh.
My hand trembled as I pushed the door open.
They were on the bed. Damien's suit jacket was on the floor. Vivian's bridesmaid dress was bunched around her waist. His hands were in her blonde hair.
The room spun around me as my world tilted.
Vivian's eyes met mine over Damien's shoulder. "Aria"
Her voice dripped with false surprise.
Damien turned. For the first time all day, he looked directly at me. His ice-blue eyes—the same eyes that had watched me with something like tenderness two weeks ago—showed nothing but cold annoyance.
Vivian slid off the bed, smoothing her dress. "This isn't what it looks like."
But it was exactly what it looked like.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. My wedding dress suddenly weighed a thousand pounds.
My voice came out whisper-thin. "How long?"
Damien stood, adjusting his shirt with infuriating calm. "Aria, we need to talk."
The words felt hollow as I screamed out. "HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER?"
Vivian laughed but the sound felt so sharp and cruel. "Oh, honey."
She examined her nails. "Did you really think you were special?"
The cruelty in her voice snapped something inside me.
My voice broke. "We're at our wedding reception." I gestured wildly. "Our wedding"
Damien buttoned his cuffs. " It is a business arrangement." His tone was flat, almost bored. "Nothing more."
My hands clenched into fists. "You're lying." I stepped toward him. "The engagement, those nights"
He cut me off, his tone ice-cold. "Meant nothing."
My throat burned. "You asked me to stay." Tears threatened to fall out. "The last time, you asked me"
He reached for his jacket. "A moment of weakness." He shrugged it on. "Don't romanticize a contractual obligation."
Vivian stepped closer to me as she tilted her head. "God, you're pathetic. Did you actually think he wanted you?"
Her smile was poisonous. "I've been with him since before your engagement party."
My legs felt weak. "That's not"
"Those nights you thought were so special?" She laughed. "He came to me afterward. Every single time." She leaned closer. "Told me how desperate you were. How clingy. How he could barely stand it."
The words felt like a stab to her chest.
Damien said nothing to deny it. He simply stood there, straightening his tie with a bored expression.
"You're monsters," I whispered.
Vivian's expression hardened. "We're realistic."
She crossed her arms. "You were always the naive one, Aria. Always believing in fairy tales."
She gestured between herself and Damien. "This is the real world. The strong take what they want, and the weak get crushed."
Voices echoed down the hallway. Guests were coming. Someone must have noticed the bride's prolonged absence.
My father's voice carried down the corridor. "Aria?"
His footsteps grew louder. "What's going on?"
Charles Monroe appeared in the doorway, followed by my mother Eleanor and half a dozen wedding guests. Their expressions shifted from confusion to shock as they took in the scene.
Someone gasped. "Is that"
Another whispered. "Oh my God"
A third voice joined in. "At their own wedding"
The whispers ignited like wildfire.
I wanted to disappear. To wake up from this nightmare. But I stood frozen as camera phones emerged, as guests crowded the doorway to witness my humiliation.
My mother's face turned to stone. "Aria, what have you done?"
The accusation hit me. "What have I done?"
I stared at her. "Are you serious?"
Eleanor's voice was cold. "Making a scene at your own wedding"
Someone whispered behind her. "She caught them together, Eleanor."
But my mother's cold eyes never left mine. My father stepped forward, his expression calculating. "Everyone, please."
He held up his hands. "This is clearly a misunderstanding. Let's all return to the reception"
"A misunderstanding?" My voice cracked. "I caught my husband with my sister!"
Charles's jaw tightened. "Lower your voice."
He glanced at the gathered crowd. "You're embarrassing yourself."
The world tilted. Even now, even with the evidence before their eyes, they blamed me.
Damien moved past me without a word, his shoulder brushing mine. He paused only to straighten his tie, the picture of composure.
His voice carried no emotion. "The arrangement stands."
He looked at my father. "The contracts are signed."
Then he walked away. Down the hallway, away from the wreckage of our wedding, leaving me standing in a room full of witnesses to my destruction.
Vivian followed him, pausing beside me. Her breath was hot against my ear. "He never wanted you." She leaned closer. "He's always wanted me."
Her perfume choked me as she walked past.
The guests began to disperse, murmuring among themselves. I heard fragments of their conversations.
"Poor thing"
"Should have known"
"Blackwood men never stay faithful"
"The sister is stunning though"
Mrs. Chen touched my shoulder gently. "Dear, perhaps you should"
I pulled away. "Don't." My voice broke. "Just don't."
My mother stepped closer, her expression rigid with barely contained fury. "Aria Monroe Blackwood."
She hissed my full name like a curse. "You will compose yourself and return to that ballroom."
I laughed but it sounded so hysterical. "To celebrate what exactly?"
I spread my arms. "My husband is cheating on me? My sister's betrayal? The death of every stupid hope I had?"
Eleanor's eyes flashed. "You will do your duty"
"My duty?" The words exploded from me. "I've done nothing but my duty!" Tears streamed down my face. "I married him to save your precious business. I tried to make it work. I tried to"
My voice broke completely.
The room tilted as my stomach churned—morning sickness that had nothing to do with the champagne I hadn't touched.
I pressed my hand against my abdomen. The secret I'd been carrying for three weeks suddenly felt impossibly heavy.
A baby. His baby. Conceived during nights that meant everything to me and nothing to him.
The photographs would be in every tabloid by morning.
But the real scandal?
I was already carrying his child—conceived during an engagement that meant everything to me and nothing to him. And I had no idea what I was going to do.