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"If this is what you want… I'll think about it."
Her hand brushed his. "So… will you do it?"
"That's enough." His voice was sharp, but his eyes betrayed fear.
"The family has already prepared your wedding," she whispered.
Silence shattered the room.
Sullivan stiffened, composure cracking for the first time. "What?"
Her eyes gleamed. "Tomorrow."
---
ABIGAIL'S PRE-WEDDING PHOTOS
The courtyard had been transformed into a wonderland. Golden drapes cascaded from marble pillars, chandeliers sparkled in the open air as though stars had been trapped within glass. A team of photographers bustled about, adjusting cameras, arranging flowers, fussing over every detail.
Abigail stepped into the scene, her cream-colored gown catching the sunlight like liquid pearl. For a moment, everyone turned silent, their gazes locked on her delicate beauty. Her fingers trembled as she clutched the bouquet, but her eyes were luminous, filled with innocence and quiet fire.
"Perfect!" the photographer exclaimed. "Turn a little—yes, chin up. Smile, darling!"
Abigail tried,but her smile faltered. Her heart hammered in her chest. Why isn't he here? Why am I standing alone?
Aurora, watching from the side, clapped lightly. "Breathe, dear. Think of tomorrow. Think of the life waiting for you."
But Abigail's gaze kept drifting to the poster of Sullivan nearby. His piercing eyes, frozen in the photograph, seemed to mock her nerves. She whispered under her breath, "What if he doesn't even look at me?"
'Oh my poor girl!" Elsa cried in her mind.
BACK TO ST. VINCENT HOSPITAL
Sullivan stands tall beside his grandmother's bed, his black attire a stark shadow against the pale room. She grips his hand with surprising strength, her frail voice carrying an edge of prophecy.
"She will tame you," the old woman whispers. "I've seen it in my dreams. Even lions need a home."
Sullivan's jaw clenches. His eyes flicker—pain, anger, something unspoken. He pulls away, towering like a storm.
"Dreams are for the weak," he mutters. Yet his voice betrays a crack, the faintest fracture in his armor.
She smiles knowingly, her eyes glistening.
"You can run, Sullivan… but destiny will always find you."
He turns and leaves, the door slamming shut with finality.
The door slammed, leaving a heavy silence in the ward. Grandmother Grace's frail chest rose and fell with effort, and the three guards looked on, uncertain. Even Jasper, usually so loud, couldn't find a word.
"Did… did he just leave?" Jasper finally whispered, eyes wide.
Grace let out a weak laugh, though tears shone in her eyes. "Yes… my boy is stubborn as ever. But he heard me. Deep down, he knows."
Jasper shook his head. "I've never seen him like that—so… human, I guess. Scary and gentle at the same time."
The guards remained silent, exchanging glances. Respect and fear tangled in their expressions. Sullivan's presence still lingered in the room, heavy as a storm cloud.
Grace squeezed her hand into a fist. "He may have left… but this family… this wedding… it will happen. He just needs time to realize it."
Jasper bent closer. "Do you really think he'll agree?"
Grace's eyes softened. "He will. He always keeps his word… eventually. Now, we wait."
A long pause filled the ward as the beeping of machines returned to normal. The tension lingered, but beneath it, a quiet hope had taken root.
BACK TO ABIGAIL--
The flash of cameras blinds her momentarily. Her laughter—forced, trembling—rings through the courtyard as she poses beside Elsa and Aurora. The gown sparkles, but inside, her heart is heavy.
"Think of tomorrow," Aurora coaxes again.
Abigail glances at the poster, Sullivan's eyes burning into hers from the glossy surface. She whispers to herself: If this is my destiny… then why does it feel like a storm is waiting for me?
---
– BACK TO SULLIVAN--
In the black car, Sullivan stares out of the tinted window, the city lights flickering across his chiseled face. He swirls the last drops of red wine in his glass, his grandmother's words echoing relentlessly:
Love is not weakness… destiny will always find you.
His lips curl into a faint, dangerous smirk. "We'll see about that."
The car speeds into the night.
–ABIGAIL'S ROOM–
It is ten o'clock in the morning.
In her chamber, Abigail sat surrounded by servants. Her long, black silk hair had been swept into an elegant style, adorned with jewels, and crowned with a white tiara. Her gown glittered beneath the golden light pouring through the windows, each jewel catching fire.
And yet—her heart did not.
No matter the finery, her thoughts churned like a storm. The man she was about to marry had not visited her. He hadn't spoken a word, hadn't stood beside her for the photographs. A terrible fear wrapped icy hands around her chest. What if he doesn't come at all?
A servant entered with a glass of water. "Young ma'am, here is the drink you asked for."
But Abigail didn't hear her. She was drowning in her own spiraling thoughts.
"Ma'am?" the servant repeated, louder. Abigail startled, blinked, and quickly reached for the glass.
"Oh—thank you, I was los—"
CRACK.
The glass slipped from her trembling hands and shattered across the marble floor. Gasps filled the room.
The servant dropped to her knees in panic. "I'm sorry, young ma'am, I didn't mean—"
"No," Abigail said quickly, guilt striking her chest. "It wasn't your fault."
The door opened.
Aurora swept in—elegant, commanding, her presence filling the chamber. "Everyone out."
The servants scattered instantly, leaving only Abigail and Aurora.
Abigail's heartbeat thundered in her ribs. She tried to stand, but Aurora raised a hand.
"You look breathtaking, my dear," Aurora said smoothly.
Abigail lowered her gaze. "Not compared to you, milady."
Aurora smiled. That humility—that appreciation—was exactly what she wanted in a daughter-in-law.
She stepped closer, her voice softening with a surprising edge of vulnerability. "Listen, child. I know this feels impossible. The arrangement is already made. But I want you to accept it. Live with it. Be happy—because I will make sure you are. My son may be a storm, but storms can be tamed. You are our last hope."
Last hope? What does she mean? Abi thought in her mind.
Aurora's voice trembled as though she might cry. "Please. Do not disappoint us. I promise—you and your parents will never lack anything."
Abigail blinked, stunned by the sudden rawness.
Aurora's tone shifted again, firm and deliberate. "This wedding is small—only our families and the priest. But when he falls in love with you, your second wedding will be grand—celebrated on our private island."
For the first time that morning, Abigail felt a flicker of relief. Maybe… maybe there is hope.
The door opened again. Elsa entered, radiant in a sky-blue gown.
"Mother!" Abigail's face brightened.
Aurora gave a knowing smile. "I'll leave you two alone." With that, she departed.
Abigail rushed into her mother's arms. "Mom…" her voice cracked, tears threatening.
Elsa held her close. "My elegant princess. You look like a queen."
"Thank you, Mother. And you—you look beautiful."
"Thank you, my angel."
But her smile faltered. "Mother… will he come?"
---
Author's note: hi guys! I really wanna know what you think about this chapter, leave your thoughts in the comments section. Love y'all ❤️❤️💕💕🌹p