Aria Monroe had always imagined her wedding day in soft hues of ivory and blush, with sunlight spilling through stained glass and her fiancé's smile making her heart skip. But as she stared at the shattered remnants of her dreams, sunlight had nothing to do with it—only cold, harsh reality.
Her family's grand estate felt suffocating tonight. The ballroom, once alive with laughter and sparkling chandeliers, now echoed with whispers of betrayal. Her heart thudded violently as she scanned the crowd, desperately seeking the one person who was supposed to stand by her side. But there was no sign of him. Her fiancé, the man who had whispered promises of forever, had vanished—leaving her to face the horror alone.
"Aria…what—what happened?" her best friend, Lila, whispered, gripping her hand tightly. Her eyes darted to the velvet curtain framing the entrance, as though expecting him to appear from thin air.
Aria's lips trembled. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but the words stuck in her throat. Betrayal had a taste—bitter and metallic—and it coated her tongue. She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself.
Then, a voice cut through the tension—a low, commanding presence that made everyone in the room shift uncomfortably.
"Aria Monroe?"
She turned slowly, her stomach twisting in confusion and fear. That voice. Deep, controlled, with an authority that made even the loudest voices in the ballroom fall silent. Her eyes widened as she saw him.
Lucien Blackwood.
Tall. Impeccably dressed. The kind of man whose presence alone demanded obedience. The rumors whispered about him were enough to make the bravest tremble: ruthless, cold, a billionaire with no patience for sentimentality or weakness. And tonight…he was looking at her.
"Lucien…" her voice was barely audible.
He didn't smile. He didn't offer pleasantries. His piercing gaze landed on her as though she were nothing more than a pawn on a chessboard. And perhaps, in tonight's twisted game, she was.
"I understand there's…a predicament," he said smoothly, stepping closer, his polished shoes echoing against the marble floor. The entire room seemed to shrink around him. "Your fiancé has…abandoned his responsibilities. But I believe I can offer a solution."
A solution. That word should have been comforting, but it carried a weight that made Aria's chest tighten. She wanted to ask what he meant, but the tension in his eyes silenced her.
"You…you can't just—" she began, her voice rising slightly.
Lucien raised a single, perfectly arched eyebrow. "I can," he said simply. And then he produced a folder, thick with papers, and held it toward her. "Sign this. Marry me. It will save your reputation. And your family's…standing."
Aria blinked. The room seemed to tilt. Her mind raced. Sign this? Marry him? This stranger—this terrifying man—was offering her a lifeline. And yet, every instinct screamed danger.
"You…you're insane," she whispered, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
"I am pragmatic," Lucien corrected. "And in life, Miss Monroe, pragmatism often outperforms sentiment. Your choice is simple: accept the terms, and you regain control of your life. Refuse, and…" He let the threat hang in the air like a sharpened blade.
Her thoughts spun. What did she have left? A fiancé who betrayed her, a family too weak to defend her, and dreams crushed under the weight of betrayal. She had nothing left to lose.
Her hand shook as she reached for the pen. Each heartbeat pounded against her skull, a mix of fear and defiance. The eyes of the crowd bore into her, expecting a decision, and yet, none could understand the storm raging inside her.
When the pen touched the paper, Lucien's lips curved into the slightest hint of a smile. Not warm—far from it—but satisfied. A deal had been struck. A contract signed. And just like that, Aria Monroe was no longer her own.
The whispers in the ballroom intensified as Lucien took her hand and guided her away from the stunned crowd. She barely registered the gasps and judgments, her mind caught between disbelief and anger.
The mansion outside the city was immense, intimidating—every inch a display of wealth and power. Lucien's car was waiting, sleek and black, and when he opened the door for her, she hesitated before sliding into the leather seat. The scent of expensive cologne and leather filled her senses, a stark contrast to the rose-scented halls of her ruined wedding.
"You have questions," Lucien stated, not asked, as he started the engine.
She didn't need to speak for him to know she had a thousand. Why her? Why now? What did he want? And most importantly—what would she have to give in return?
"You'll learn soon enough," he said, eyes on the road, hands tight on the wheel. "For now…remember this: in my house, my rules apply. Disobey, and there will be consequences."
Her stomach turned. A shiver ran down her spine—not from fear alone, but from the intensity of the man beside her. He was dangerous, controlling, and yet…she felt an unexpected spark of defiance. She wasn't going to be crushed. Not yet.
The car sped into the night, city lights blurring past the tinted windows. And in that darkness, Aria realized the harsh truth of her situation: she had been sold on her wedding night—not to the man she loved, but to a stranger who owned her future now.
But she wasn't broken. Not entirely.
Because deep down, Aria Monroe had one thing left that no one could touch: her pride. And she was already plotting how to survive in a world that had turned its back on her.
Tonight, she thought bitterly, I may be a wife in name only—but I am not a woman who can be owned completely.
Lucien glanced at her briefly, and for the first time, Aria felt a flicker of curiosity in his cold eyes, as if he were measuring the fire in her heart.
And then the car disappeared into the darkness, carrying two lives bound together by a contract neither of them fully understood—and a story that had only just begun.
To be continued…