Part 1 – The Wedding Morning
The mirror reflected a bride who looked perfect in every sense of the word.
Aria Bennett's ivory gown shimmered beneath the golden glow of the chandelier, the fabric hugging her slender frame before spilling out in soft waves. Diamonds glinted at her ears, her veil was pinned flawlessly into place, and her painted lips curved into the kind of smile every photographer prayed for.
But her eyes betrayed her.
Behind the veil of makeup, there was a storm brewing — one that not even the thick foundation could mask. Her palms had been sweating since dawn, her heart beating an irregular rhythm that only grew worse each time someone mentioned his name.
Ethan.
Her groom. The man she was supposed to marry today. The man who had promised her forever with the ease of someone ordering dessert at a restaurant.
"You look beautiful, darling."
Her mother, Vivian Bennett, swept into the dressing suite in a flurry of lavender silk and expensive perfume. Her eyes glistened with pride as she clasped Aria's hands. "You look like a princess. The photographers are already gathering, and the guests can't wait to see you walk down the aisle."
Aria forced another smile, but her throat tightened. "Mom… are you sure Ethan's here? I haven't heard from him all morning."
Vivian's grip stiffened. For a second, she faltered, her eyes darting toward the window before she forced herself to smile again. "Of course he's here. He's a Blackwood, darling. Men like him don't just run away."
But men like him did, didn't they?
Aria looked away, pressing her lips together to stop the words from spilling. She wanted to believe her mother, she wanted to believe that Ethan wouldn't abandon her, not after everything he'd said. Not after all the nights he'd whispered about protecting her, not after promising her that this marriage would be more than just business.
Because for Aria, it had never only been about business.
Her family's company had been crumbling for years, drowning in debt after her father's reckless investments. Ethan had stepped in like a knight in shining armor, offering not just salvation but a future. His proposal had come wrapped in charm and smiles, but beneath it had been a deal: marry him, and the Blackwoods would absorb her family's failing empire.
A contract dressed as romance.
And she'd said yes, because what choice did she have?
A knock sounded at the door, sharp and impatient. Aria's bridesmaid and childhood best friend, Sophia Lane, stuck her head in. Her curls bounced as she gave a low whistle. "Aria, you're glowing. If Ethan doesn't faint at the sight of you, he's not human."
Aria laughed, but it came out brittle. "Don't jinx me."
Sophia frowned, stepping inside. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Aria lied. She had learned to lie smoothly these past few months. "Just nerves."
Sophia studied her, unconvinced, but didn't push. Instead, she reached for the veil and adjusted it, her fingers steady where Aria's trembled. "Nerves are normal. Cold feet, too. But I've seen the way Ethan looks at you, Aria. You'll be fine."
If only she believed that.
Another knock. This time it was the wedding planner, her voice brisk and businesslike. "Miss Bennett, it's time. The ceremony will begin in five minutes."
Aria swallowed hard. The world seemed to tilt, the weight of expectation pressing on her chest. Her mother's hopeful gaze, her best friend's encouragement, the debts of her family, the whispers of the guests waiting beyond the heavy doors…
She could feel all of it suffocating her.
With trembling hands, she gathered the folds of her gown, nodding at her mother and Sophia as they guided her out of the suite. The grand hallway stretched before her, lined with gilded mirrors and vases of white roses. Each step echoed, reminding her of the chains she wore — invisible, but heavy.
The music swelled faintly from the ballroom ahead. Guests were already seated, the chandeliers blazing like a thousand suns, every camera ready to capture the moment she would step into her new life.
Aria's breath hitched. She forced herself to smile, forced herself to keep walking.
Because in five minutes, she would be Mrs. Ethan Blackwood.
Or so she thought.