This Vera Wang wedding gown cost more than what was left of her family's dignity, and Elena felt every ounce of its weight. The heavy silk that swept the marble floor felt like a net dragging her forward, while the thousands of tiny, shimmering crystals on the bodice felt like shards of ice piercing her skin. This wasn't a dress; it was armor for a sacrifice.
"Smile, Elena," her father whispered at her side. His grip on her arm was so tight, not to give her strength, but to ensure she didn't falter, didn't turn and run. There was a desperate plea in his eyes that made her nauseous. He wasn't walking his daughter toward happiness; he was handing over his final asset to settle a debt.
Then the music began. Not the formal, stiff orchestra, but the gentle melody of a solo grand piano, filling the entire hall with a sound so beautiful it was heartbreaking. Elena's heart ached. She knew that touch. She knew the soul behind those notes.
As the double doors before her swung open, her eyes didn't search for the figure of the groom at the end of the altar. Her gaze automatically locked onto the white grand piano on the left. Her world was right there. Nathan Riels.
His slightly messy brown hair fell across his forehead as he looked down, completely lost in his music. His fingers danced with a familiar grace over the black and white keys, creating a song Elena had never heard before. A new song. Their farewell song. Nathan was freedom, unrestrained laughter, and the dreams they had built together in an old music studio. And now, he was playing the accompaniment to Elena's surrender to his brother. The irony was so cruel that Elena almost laughed hysterically.
The long church aisle felt like a suspension bridge over a chasm. On one side was Nathan and the life she wanted. On the other, waiting with the patience of a predator, was Ethan Riels.
Elena forced herself to look at him. The man stood tall and flawless. From a distance, he looked like a marble statue—cold, hard, and unreachable. He was the gilded cage itself. The man who had bought her freedom, her family's freedom. The man who would now own her.
Her father released her arm and placed her hand in Ethan's. The touch of Ethan's hand was warm and solid, an unsettling anomaly. It enveloped her cold fingers gently, as if holding something precious. Elena didn't respond. She let her own hand lie limp, a lifeless object in her husband's grasp.
The entire ceremony felt like a silent film. The priest droned on about eternal love and faithfulness, empty words that mocked her. Ethan spoke his vows in a deep, steady voice, each word uttered with a conviction that sent a shiver down her spine. She kept her head bowed, counting every second until this torture was over.
Then, the music stopped. A total silence enveloped them.
"Elena Watson," the priest's voice sounded grand and final, forcing her from her reverie. "Do you take Ethan Riels to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to honor, in good times and in bad, till death do you part?"
The entire world seemed to stop spinning. This was it. The moment of no return.
Elena lifted her head, forcing herself to look directly into Ethan's eyes. His gaze was so deep and intense, an ocean of emotion she had no desire to dive into. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nathan, who had now stopped playing, staring straight at her with a wounded expression.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a final rebellion. Her lips felt dry and stiff. The entire church held its breath, waiting for a single word from her.
A single word that would seal her fate.