EPILOG
EPILOG: BRAYEN MALLEN
I never wanted this marriage. Not at all.
My world was still occupied by Vallen Zickline, the woman I loved to death. Her passing left a wound so agonizing, an emptiness that could never be healed by anyone.
And then, here she was Chiella Cruze.
That girl, never expect kindness from me. I will ensure you cannot infiltrate my life; instead, you will only suffer within this rotten bond.
I warned you to refuse, I gave you the chance to run. Yet, you were reckless and brazen enough to enter my life.
There will never be love for you here. In my heart and in my life, there is only Vallen. You came to fill this void with deception, and I swear, you will pay for it with misery.
CHAPTER 1
TRAUMATIC FLASHBACK (Brayen's POV)
"You...!"
The sound erupted from my lungs, shattering the thick silence of the master bedroom. Anger felt hot, searing my throat.
The girl. Chiella Cruze, who was now my wife on that cursed paper, merely stood in the center of the room, holding the hem of her luxurious white wedding gown, rigid. She didn't move, she wasn't intimidated, she was empty. There was no expression at all on her pale face.
Her silence and indifference were infuriating, like a wordless provocation.
Tonight was our first night. It should have been a sacred night for a newly married couple. But for me? This was hell.
I strode toward her. Every step of my shoe on the marble floor felt heavy, echoing with hatred.
"I told you, didn't I?" I hissed, my voice low, yet far more dangerous than a shout.
My left hand raised, my index finger pointing sharply, almost touching her chin. I was still wearing the choking wedding tuxedo a false symbol of this nauseating drama. My face felt hot, as if my veins were ready to burst.
I was sick of it. Sick of looking at her, sick of the destiny that forced her here, replacing Vallen.
"Answer me!" I roared again.
She merely closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again.
"Tonight," I said coldly, my voice flat again yet laden with threat, glancing toward the corner of the room, "you sleep on the sofa."
I pointed to the long velvet sofa near the large window. The incoming moonlight made Chiella look even smaller and more isolated.
"That sofa is your place. Don't you dare touch this bed. Or I swear, you will regret ever setting foot in this house, Chiella."
I left Chiella alone in the suite, not a trace of guilt creeping into my heart.
I walked toward my private bar, discarding the expensive jacket and tuxedo that felt like shackles, tossing them carelessly onto a chair. The warmth of my body was instantly replaced by the coldness of the marble.
I opened the bottle of single malt, no glass needed. The thick liquid went straight down my throat from the neck of the bottle. Its heat burned, but failed to quell the chaos in my mind.
My thoughts were frantic, my heart and feelings utterly refused to accept this reality. I was still submerged in the shadows of Vallen. It had been over three years. Three years since my world collapsed. For all that time, I had never truly lived. I only served her memory.
I remembered clearly, too clearly, all our memories.
Three Years Ago: The Virelle Freeway
That afternoon, I was leading a company expansion meeting in the office, but I immediately stopped it when a call came in from Vallen. It was our last video call. She looked beautiful as always, her long hair cascading beautifully, smiling while driving. She was on her way to deliver my lunch a meal she always cooked herself.
"Traffic is terrible today," she complained, accompanied by light laughter. "I hope your stomach can be patient until two."
"This stomach will be patient; it only wants the food you cook, darling," I replied, my smile genuine an expression that felt foreign now.
However, in the middle of our conversation, the scene on the screen turned into horror. Vallen's expression froze, her eyes widening in shock. Suddenly, there was a violent tremor, and a deafening horn blast exploded through the speaker.
Crash...!!!
Vallen's car I saw it clearly was hit by a large container truck that had lost control of its brakes. The phone screen tumbled quickly, showing the sky, then the asphalt, before finally going completely dark.
The shock was visceral. I dropped my phone and ran like a madman.
When I arrived at the hospital, Vallen was pronounced dead in the operating room. But the bad news didn't stop there. The doctor informed me, with a tone of pity, that Vallen had been two months pregnant.
The loss of Vallen, and the fetus I never got to touch, was a devastating blow.
The tremor still lingered vividly in my mind, as fresh as if it had happened last night.
I jolted back to the cold suite. I stared blankly at the bottle of whiskey in my hand. There, in the corner of the room, was Chiella. The replacement forced upon me by the family.
I knew, if I kept drinking, I would either get closer to the pain, or further from sanity. I chose the latter, taking endless gulps.
I kept drinking relentlessly. The whiskey bottle was cold, but the liquid inside burned. The night had reached its darkest point, yet I was more awake than ever.
My head throbbed sharply, my body swayed. I walked toward the large window, seeking air. But as my blurred eyes stared out, my mind only pulled me backward, deep into the trauma.
I never stopped remembering all our memories.
__POV: CHIELLA CRUZE__
The suite door closed with a silent slam or perhaps I was just too empty to hear the loud bang.
I stood in the same spot, on the thick carpet, watching Brayen Mallen's back recede. Honestly, I was shocked. I knew he was cold, I knew he hated me, but I didn't expect his rage to be so profound and terrifying.
"I warned you, didn't I?"
The words spun in my head. It wasn't that I didn't want to call off this marriage. Who would willingly become a sacrificial lamb? However, my parents would never tolerate refusal. To them, I was a pawn whose only function was to save face and the family business.
I knew Brayen was still deeply in love with Vallen Zickline, his late wife. I never hoped to usurp her place. I only hoped for a little tenderness, a spark of humanity so I could breathe.
But it turned out I was wrong.
Since childhood, I had been accustomed to living under the shadow of Stella, my older sister. Being an empty shell, an obedient, silent follower. I thought this marriage, even if forced, would be a key, an escape route that could free me from the Cruze family curse. I was mistaken.
The world felt so unjust. Wherever I stepped, it was as if there were hidden glass shards constantly wounding me. Yet, at least, staying here in the cold Mallen mansion still felt better than continuing to be an emotional slave in my own parents' home.
I carried their last name: Cruze, one of the most respected aristocrats in Virelle City. A ridiculous pride. It was as if I weren't their daughter, but an asset to be discarded.
I only hoped for a better life, a sliver of peace.
But, staring at Brayen's retreating back, I knew. Here, in this luxurious palace, my suffering had only changed forms.
It turned out my fate was just as bad.
I inhaled slowly, trying to gather the last remnants of my self-respect, before finally walking toward the velvet sofa under the moonlight, the place where I had to spend my first night.