The wedding day arrived, and it felt more like a nightmare than a celebration.
I stood in the pristine white dress, my hands trembling slightly. Cameras flashed everywhere, but he—Ethan Blackwood—didn't even glance at me. His cold expression never wavered.
"Do you take this woman as your wife?" the priest asked.
"I do," Ethan said, his voice low and detached.
When it was my turn, my throat felt dry.
"I… do," I whispered, barely audible.
After the ceremony, Ethan leaned slightly toward me, his icy blue eyes boring into mine.
"Remember our agreement. No feelings. No mistakes," he said.
I clenched my fists inside my gloves.
"As if I ever could," I muttered under my breath.
But deep inside, a strange mixture of fear and curiosity stirred.
The guests laughed and congratulated us, oblivious to the tension crackling between us.
I hated him for forcing me into this, yet I couldn't deny… something about him unnervingly fascinated me.