The gentle strains of an orchestra seeped faintly through the towering mahogany doors, an elegant melody that sounded distant and foreign. Out there, in the Grand Ballroom transformed into a heavenly garden, hundreds of distinguished guests had taken their seats. Out there, the future he had fought for with everything he had was waiting.
Ethan Riels stared intently at his reflection in the large, gold-framed mirror. A man who seemed to have everything was reflected back perfectly. A bespoke black Tom Ford tuxedo hugged his broad shoulders without a single crease. His brown hair—a color he had borrowed for the past year, the same shade as his brother's—was combed neatly back, accentuating his sharp jawline. Physically, he was the picture of success. His eyes, however, betrayed everything. Within their dark irises was a storm of anticipation, an almost painful hope, and a raw fear he had suppressed his entire life.
This wasn't just a wedding; it was the culmination of a long-term strategy. The most personal and riskiest acquisition he had ever undertaken. The asset wasn't a company or a property, but the heart of a woman. And the stake was his own sanity.
He remembered an afternoon a dozen years ago. A young Elena Watson, her hair in two braids, was crying under the old oak tree in their backyard because Nathan had accidentally broken her dollhouse. Ethan, watching her from his bedroom window, felt an odd compulsion to mend the world for that girl. He spent the entire night gluing the small wooden pieces back together, then placed it back on the Watson family's porch before dawn. Elena never knew who fixed it. She thought it was Nathan. From that moment on, Ethan grew accustomed to being the unseen shadow behind Elena's happiness.
The door to the room opened without a knock, shattering his reverie. Leo Santana entered, exuding a starkly contrasting aura—the scent of expensive designer cologne, a trademark playboy smile, and two crystal glasses of amber whiskey in his hands.
"For the groom," Leo said, his cheerful voice sounding too loud in the solemn room. He offered one of the glasses. "I figured you could use a little liquid courage before signing off on the craziest merger in the history of Riels Corporation."
Ethan accepted the glass, feeling the cold crystal in his hand, but he didn't drink. "I'm not nervous, Leo."
"Of course not," Leo laughed, but his eyes didn't smile with him. He leaned against the marble table, studying his best friend intently. "I've seen you face down board meetings where they wanted your head on a platter with a calmer look. This isn't nerves. This is obsession. Are you sure about this, Eth? Marrying a woman who's clearly heartbroken because your own brother is chasing his music career? This isn't love anymore; it's self-torture."
Ethan finally turned, looking his friend straight in the eye. "It's the only way."
"The only way to what? To have her as a trophy in your mansion? You can buy a private island, Eth, but you can't buy the look in her eyes. You know that, right?" Leo pressed, his tone now serious.
"I will win her over," Ethan replied, his voice low but filled with an almost fanatical conviction. "I've never been more certain of anything in my life."
Leo looked at him for a long moment, searching for a crack in his friend's armor and finding none. He heaved a long sigh, finally surrendering. "Love really does make smart men foolish," he muttered. He raised his glass higher. "Alright, my friend. If you're determined to shatter your own heart, I'll be here to help pick up the pieces. To the riskiest deal you've ever made."
They clinked glasses. Ethan took a sip, the sharp warmth a stark contrast to the cold knot in his stomach.
A polite knock sounded at the door. "Mr. Riels, it's time."
Leo clapped Ethan on the shoulder. "Good luck, bro. You're going to need it."
Ethan nodded. He set his glass down, his gaze returning to the mirror. The man with borrowed hair and a heart on the line. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked towards the door.
In his mind, there was only one name. One face. Elena.
The doors opened, and the sound of the orchestra became magnificent and real.
The game had begun.