Then Atlas cups my face with both hands and kisses me.
Hard.
Possessive.
Claiming.
Like I’ve just been marked in front of the whole damn world.
The crew claps.
Someone whistles.
The guards murmur their congratulations, and Captain Kostas gives us a formal nod before retreating.
The sound of celebration feels distant. Muted. Like it’s happening underwater.
Because this isn’t the wedding I imagined as a girl.
There’s no slow dance under fairy lights.
No preparation.
No mother and father giving me away.
No bouquet.
There’s just a kiss that stole my breath and a new last name I’m still wrapping my head around.
I feel a sudden, inexplicable ache. Like I’ve just lost something I’ll never be able to name.
And I think maybe it’s the illusion of control.
Maybe it’s the version of me that thought I’d always get to choose.
Maybe it’s because I already care too much.
Atlas leans close, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he murmurs, “I promise to keep you safe.”
I nod slowly, because I believe him.
It’s not the meeting in Turkey that scares me.
It’s this marriage.
This man.
This connection between us that feels too powerful, too consuming to be anything but real.
Because I already know—I’ve done the unthinkable.
I’ve fallen for him.
Completely.
And that terrifies me more than anything.
Because when this sham ends, and the papers are signed, and the world moves on? I don’t know how I’ll walk away. I don’t know if I’ll survive what’s left of me without him.
