“Why?” Scarlett began, rising to her feet. “Why are you doing this to me?” She wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks as she approached me. “I have a life—a future ahead of me. Why do you want to take that from me?!” Her voice rose on the last statement, eyes blazing with fury.
I watched her in silence for a while, basking in the fury that made her lips tremble. “Your status in this house is about to shift,” I said, calm and collected. “From a prisoner. To a bride.” My hand stretched out, fingers toiling with the hair that framed her face. “Many would kill to be in your position right now. So be grateful.”
She slapped my hand off. “You’re ruining my life, and you expect me to be grateful?” Her voice was weak and fragile, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
Silence.
Her expression darkened, and her tone shifted from fragile to a low growl. “I hate you—I hate you so much.” Her voice was dripping with venom, her face twisted with resentment.
“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” My lips curled into a mischievous grin. “I can see it in your eyes, and that’s the reason I’m choosing to chain you to me. You know why?” I stepped forward, my gaze pinned on her until I leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Because hate burns hotter than love.”
“You’re sick,” she declared.
I pulled my head back to watch the frown on her face. “I know. And you…” I pointed a finger in the air, a gesture of my warning, “...will no longer cause any trouble. You will behave like the bride that you are. You will wear your dress, look gorgeous, and smile for all to see how happy you are.”
Her jaw locked, her eyes blinking back tears. “And if I don’t?”
A crooked grin tugged at the corners of my lips. “Trust me; you don’t wanna find out.”
The threat stole her breath, and a glimpse of fear flashed in her eyes. She knew I wasn’t kidding, and that messing with me wasn’t such a good idea. As she glared at me, the hatred in her gaze burned hotter and hotter by the second.
Good. Very good.
Without another word, I stepped away from her, my footsteps soundless against the floor as I strolled out of the room. I could feel her eyes lingering on me, but I couldn’t care less. The message had been passed—now the choice was entirely up to her. She could either play the part of a happy bride or face the consequences.
The church doors parted, revealing her figure as she stood at the entrance, bathed in the sunlight streaming behind her. The classic “Wedding March” swelled through the hallowed air as she walked down the aisle with measured, graceful steps.
Heads turned in her direction, our seated guests admiring her gorgeousness with soft smiles. Her presence commanded attention, her ethereal beauty stirring quiet murmurs among our impeccably dressed guests.
My heart skipped a beat the second I laid eyes on her. Scarlett looked stunning in the white silk lace that hugged her in all the right places. The dress highlighted her curves and contours, revealing an elegance I had never noticed.
She looked like an angel with the sun’s glory behind her like a friggin’ halo. I couldn’t bring myself to take my eyes off her. In that moment, the world around us faded away, leaving just the two of us.
I stood at the altar, resplendent in my black suit and a tie, waiting patiently for my bride. The closer she drew to me, the more I realized just how gorgeous she was. Her makeup was natural, and it blended with her skin tone, nothing loud or harsh.
Her hazel eyes shifted between green and gold under the chandelier’s soft light. She held my gaze from a distance, her short blonde hair styled to perfection. Her lips were painted a shade of red, and her heels made her look inches taller than usual.
The smile on her face was plastic, but not everyone knew that, considering how genuine it looked.
I’d always known that Scarlett was a pretty one, but today, I realized how much I’d underrated her beauty. No other woman in the world was more stunning than her; she was perfect just the way she was.
When she reached the wide steps in front of the altar, I stretched out my hand, and without hesitation, she took it. I helped her up, nice and easy, as her fingers stylishly clutched her gown, lifting the flowing hem inches off the floor.
Scarlett stood across from me as the priest’s voice droned on, initiating the ceremony. Her chest was rising and falling with slow, even breaths that masked her anxiety. Although she managed to look into my eyes, she could barely hold my gaze for long.
I drank in her beauty, reminding myself that I had made the right choice by marrying her. Beneath the polished exterior was a woman with a broken heart. Perhaps a part of me hatedthat I was the cause of her pain, but this had to be done. It might have been selfish of me, but it was the right thing to do.
“Do you, Scarlett Carter…” the priest’s voice cut through my thoughts, “...take this man, Roman Tarasov, to be your lawfully wedded husband….”
I noticed the sweat glistening on her forehead and how her breath caught in her throat. The fear and pain in her eyes were masked with a soft expression. But I could see right through her.
She hesitated for a moment, her lips trembling as she stared at me, helpless and defeated. “Yes, I do.”
My lips twisted into a faint grin. I was pleased by her consent.
The priest faced me, repeating the same vows, and I gave the obvious answer.
“I do.”
