"Come in," I call out.
He walks in, looking incredibly handsome and sharply dressed in a dark suit. I finish buckling the second heel.
"How much time do we have left?" I ask, admiring the shoe on my foot.
When he doesn't reply, I look up. He's standing there, completely still, crying. Tears are streaming down his face, ruining his clean shave.
"Dad," I say, the word soft with confusion.
He quickly swipes at his cheeks. "I didn't think you would ever get married," he manages, his voice thick.
I am dumbfounded. He's right, of course. I never had a serious relationship, and I wasn't the type that even dreamt of getting married. While other little girls were playing house, I was tussling with boys in the playground. But was that worth crying over?
I pull a tissue from the box on the dresser and hand it to him. "They will be here soon," I say gently. "Don't cry in front of them."
"You look beautiful, honey," he murmurs, ignoring the tissue to dab his eyes with his palm.
"Thank you, Pops. Now stop crying."
"You are heartless," he says, a teasing note entering his tone. "Your father is expressing his emotions, and you are so cold."
"Okay, okay, cry it out," I concede, walking over to hug him quickly. "But once we walk out of the door, no more crying."
A sharp pang of guilt hits me. This isn't a real wedding. It's a contract, a transaction, a farce. But my father thinks it's genuine, and I hate that I'm letting him waste these precious, sincere tears on a lie.
I finish buckling the other strappy heel, the last piece of this ridiculous costume. Just as I lock it into place, my phone rings.
My father quickly checks the caller ID. "It's Secretary Seth," he announces, his voice vibrating with excitement.
"They must be here," I reply.
Leif takes my hand, his grip firm and warm, and we go down the small stairs from the apartment into the gym below. We walk through the partially repaired gym floor and out the front door.
Outside, the curb is dominated by three intimidating black Maybachs, parked in a precise, expensive row. Seth is already standing by the middle car. He opens the back door for us and gives a crisp greeting.
"Good morning, Madam, Sir."
"Too formal," I murmur as I slide in first.
Seth doesn't even look up as he says, "Boss' orders."
I sit in the car next to my father, who is still beaming. I squeeze my thumbs together in my lap, trying to hide the knot of dread forming in my stomach. I am nervous, despite the cold calculation that got me here.
Suddenly, my father reaches over and holds my hand. His fingers are rough, familiar, and infinitely comforting. I look at him and manage a genuine, though small, smile.
Leif smiles back, his expression reassuring.
***
Vega POV
I stand outside the small, tastefully decorated room where we are getting married. The hallway is hushed, the atmosphere formal. I check the time on my watch: it's almost time.
Suddenly, a figure rounds the corner at the end of the hallway. In fact, there are three figures, but my gaze locks onto only one.
She is bathed in the soft morning light as she walks down the hallway, moving with an almost ethereal quality. Her off-white silk slip dress clings to her small waist like a whispered vow... fluid, minimal, and impossibly graceful.
The fabric shimmers faintly with each breath, catching the light like moonlight on still water. Her jet-black hair is pinned in a sculptural updo, not a strand out of place, yet somehow effortless like royalty who'd never needed to try.
A pair of dainty diamond earrings, so fine they look like droplets of starlight, frame her face. The matching bracelet hugs her wrist with quiet opulence, echoing the brilliance of the engagement ring that crowns her left hand a piece so exquisite it seems forged from devotion itself. She looks... breathtaking. A perfect lie.
Her makeup is the kind that whispers rather than shouts: dewy skin, soft peach lips, a hint of shimmer at the inner corners of her eyes. It's the clean girl aesthetic, but elevated to divine simplicity. She wears strappy heels that subtly elongate her silhouette, and each step she takes is a study in poise. Controlled, measured, and utterly confident.
Tyr doesn't just look beautiful; she looks inevitable. She looks exactly like the woman one would marry to solidify an empire.
I think I should say something nice. Something that reinforces the narrative for her father. But the words that come out of my mouth are the truth. "You are late."
She stops directly in front of me, her smile dangerously charming. "Well, no shit," she counters, her voice low. "You think this fabulousness happens on its own?"
Leif steps forward, his hand resting on her shoulder. "Tyr!" he reprimands, sounding genuinely distressed by her lack of manners.
"What? Just saying!" she defends herself, looking entirely unrepentant.
Leif turns to me, his brow furrowed. "Don't take it to heart, son. She's rough around the edges, but she means well."
I let the disgust for my own lie settle deep in my gut before forcing the words out. "You are right, Father-in-law. I should be more patient with my wife."
Tyr's eyes flash with pure contempt, the natural reaction to my calculated hypocrisy. She wants to glare, and she does, but the fury is quickly masked by that practiced, brilliant smile, as if to say: You have jokes.
I turn and lead the way. We enter the small, elegant room. The officiator is waiting patiently for us, an open book resting on his podium. He looks at me, then at Tyr, and smiles.
"The witnesses?" he asks.
Seth and Leif raise their hands in unison.
"Excellent," the officiator says, his smile widening. "Let's begin."
Tyr POV
I'm standing here, a bride in an off-white slip dress, and the whole world is a soft-focus blur. I'm in a daze the entire time. That's because I simply cannot believe I am actually getting married to this man, this calculating, cold stranger.
Every word the officiator speaks is muffled, a warm, distant buzz in my ears. The ceremony feels less like a wedding and more like a high-stakes performance art piece.
The silence is what finally drags me back. It hangs heavy and expectant. I realize I've been staring blankly at Vega's immaculate tie.