The ancient wedding dress was swiftly removed from the mannequin. Seraphina didn't dwell on why the Kingsley family had sent such a shabby gown for their master's grand wedding. Clearly, it was an intended slight. However, the ugly dress had served a purpose; it had given her leverage to delay and momentarily deflect the family's fury.
Now, the beautiful girl stood before the immense wooden doors of the cathedral, clad in a stunning, floor-length white wedding dress that had been procured with remarkable speed. The fabric was exquisite, the cut impeccable, yet it felt like a costume to her. She stared straight ahead with an unnerving calm, a stark contrast to Tony Walker, who fidgeted nervously beside her, about to 'give away' the daughter he had long ignored.
"Sera… I'm sorry," Tony whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Seraphina did not turn her head. "Do not call me Sera again, Father. These walls and doors likely have ears," she stated quietly, her gaze fixed on the carved wood before them.
Tony flinched. "Forgive me, I was careless. But, my child… what if they eventually discover you are… not Marsha?"
"I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead," Seraphina replied, her tone pragmatic. "But… didn't they never demand to meet the one they were to marry?" She finally glanced at him, offering a thin, almost imperceptible smile. "I am your child, am I not?"
"Of course you are! One of my most precious," Tony insisted, his eyes welling up. He felt a profound awkwardness facing her. He had been so focused on grooming and watching over Marsha that Seraphina had become a stranger in his own home. Normally, a child so neglected would refuse such a sacrifice, yet Seraphina displayed no hatred. This only deepened Tony's guilt, making him feel utterly unworthy before her.
"I'm sorry no one ever knew I had another daughter named Seraphina."
"I forgive you. Perhaps this was meant to be my life, Father," she said, her voice softening just a fraction. "Consider this: because I was unseen, I became the ready replacement for Sister Marsha."
"Sera…" Tony's heart ached. He never consciously meant to make Seraphina Marsha's shadow. He was simply a man terrified of his family's destruction if the Kingsleys were unsatisfied. In his fear, he had been profoundly unfair.
Seraphina shifted her attention back to the doors, sensing the ceremony about to begin. "It's all because I failed as your father," Tony confessed, a tear finally escaping.
If not for his past failures, Marsha wouldn't have been groomed for Gabriel, and Seraphina wouldn't be standing here in a wedding gown, about to marry a man known as a devil. She would suffer greatly under the thumb of a heartless mafia lord. It seemed only reasonable that she couldn't muster genuine respect for him; even with Marie, Seraphina still felt a distance.
The story was short and bitter: Tony had failed in business years ago, incurring a massive debt to the Kingsley family. Initially, Jack Kingsley, Gabriel's father, had threatened to feed the Walkers to his prized savage beasts. Tony had begged for mercy. Jack then asked what precious thing Tony could offer to settle the debt. In his desperation, Tony answered that the only valuable things he had were the lives of his wife and his unborn child.
Jack had no interest in a married woman, especially one heavy with child, as his own wife was pregnant with Gabriel at the time. So, he decreed that if Tony's baby was a boy, he would be surrendered to Jack. If it was a girl, Tony must prepare her to become Jack's daughter-in-law. This was because Jack knew the Walker lineage consistently produced offspring with superior, intelligent genes and remarkable capabilities. Tony, of course, was the exception to that familial trait.
The heavy church doors began to creak open, letting in a sliver of light and the solemn chords of the organ.
Tony grasped Seraphina's hand gently. "Are you ready, my child?"
"Always," Seraphina replied, her beautiful face a mask of serene composure, devoid of any nervous ripple or flicker of fear.
As she stepped into the cavernous nave with sure strides, her gaze fixed ahead, the assembled guests began to whisper amongst themselves. Crystal chandeliers glimmered high above, casting a holy light on the scene, but something was palpably amiss.
The problem was glaring: Gabriel, the groom, was nowhere to be seen at the altar waiting to receive her.
"The groom isn't here."
"How dreadful. Perhaps he doesn't want this marriage."
"Of course not. Rumor says Mr. Gabriel is a heartless devil. He wouldn't give face to a girl he doesn't love."
"So this is purely an arranged match by Jack?"
"What else? Look at Mr. Jack's face. He looks like he'll explode any second because his son hasn't arrived."
Their hushed conversations buzzed like angry bees. A man in an impeccably tailored suit and a distinctive Panama hat—the signature appearance of Jack Kingsley—sat in the front pew by the altar. His face was twisted into a grim, wry scowl, his displeasure evident to all.
"Albert!" Jack's hissed command cut through the murmurs.
Albert rushed to his side, bowing slightly. "Mr. Jack."
"Where is Gabriel? Where is that boy? The blessing is about to commence, yet the insolent brat is still absent!"
"My apologies, Sir. I will contact Mr. Gabriel once more." Albert leaned in, whispering urgent orders into the ear of a subordinate. Jack knew Gabriel was reluctant; he also knew about Evelyn, the woman Gabriel called his wife. But Jack had never given his blessing to that union. Evelyn was just a pretty face who bore a resemblance to Gabriel's childhood infatuation. Gabriel, however, was obsessively devoted to her.
Evelyn, for her part, served and loved Gabriel willingly, not only because Jack's sole heir was devastatingly handsome but also because Gabriel was a formidable force. He was the successor groomed to rule the black world in Berlin, their wealth from illicit arms trades beyond question. Many women vied for his attention, and Evelyn was notoriously adept at eliminating any she perceived as a threat.
"Mr. Gabriel still hasn't arrived?" Albert muttered, panic creeping into his voice.
The tension seeped into the guests. Normally, the groom would be standing proudly at the altar, awaiting his bride. Gabriel wasn't just late; he was entirely absent.
"How embarrassing for the bride. She must feel utterly humiliated."
This thought also plagued Tony, who still stood faithfully beside Seraphina. He glanced at his daughter, his expression shifting to confusion. Seraphina's face remained a picture of calm detachment. There was no sign of anger, hurt, or humiliation at being publicly scorned. Her gaze was steady and undisturbed; she seemed indifferent to whether Gabriel appeared or not. Tony let out a faint, relieved sigh.
"Where is the groom?" the pastor asked, his tone laced with confusion that hung heavily in the air.
Jack, his patience evaporated, spun around. "Albert! Find him now!"
A sound came from a side door near the altar. All heads turned. A man appeared, dressed not in a wedding tuxedo but in sleek, all-black casual attire—a fitted shirt and trousers. His steps were slow, deliberate, and devoid of any urgency, both hands tucked casually into his pockets. He moved with a lethal grace that seemed more suited to a shadowy alley than a cathedral.
Jack squeezed the bridge of his nose, then fixed Albert with a sharp, venomous glare. "Why is he dressed like that, Albert? What were your instructions? And his tie?" Jack's voice was a low, threatening whisper. "He looks more prepared for a duel than a wedding ceremony."
Albert could only bow deeper. He had, of course, prepared everything—the finest tuxedo, the silk tie. But if Gabriel refused to wear them, what power did Albert have? He valued his life too much to provoke Gabriel's infamous temper.
Now, Seraphina and Gabriel stood side by side before the pastor, yet Gabriel didn't bother to cast a single glance her way. The marriage vows were recited. Gabriel gave his responses in a flat, detached monotone, and within minutes, the two strangers were officially declared husband and wife.
"Now, you are officially husband and wife. You may now greet each other," the pastor announced, attempting to inject some warmth into the glacial atmosphere.
Gabriel remained silent. He finally turned his head, his cold, empty eyes sweeping over Seraphina's form for a fleeting second before he simply turned and walked away, leaving his bride standing alone at the altar.
"Gabriel!" Jack's shout of anger and frustration echoed in the vaulted space. This wasn't just an insult to Seraphina; it was a blatant embarrassment to the entire Kingsley family.
His shout did nothing to slow Gabriel's retreating footsteps. Jack, seething, turned his concern to Seraphina. He felt a pang of worry and anxiety for the girl. Surely, she would be on the verge of tears, heartbroken and humiliated by her husband's abandonment mere moments after their union.
He walked over to her, his cane tapping softly on the stone floor. "My dear, please forgive Gabriel. He… he cannot mean it." Even as he said it, Jack knew the opposite was true. Gabriel meant every bit of his disrespect.
Seraphina lifted her bridal veil. She offered Jack a thin, polite smile. "It's quite alright, Sir," she answered, her voice smooth and eerily flat. The tone, so devoid of emotion, sent an uncomfortable chill through Jack and those close enough to hear.
"You must be sad," Jack pressed gently, studying her face.
Seraphina merely smiled again, a faint curve of her lips that didn't reach her eyes. Jack was taken aback. She expressed no outrage, no sorrow over Gabriel's behavior. The girl seemed cold and indifferent, utterly unlike the gentle, refined portrait painted by the investigators who had reported on his future daughter-in-law's daily life.