Chapter TWO

AIDEN'S POV

Where could the bride be? The one causing such a stir?

I mused, eyeing the clock with a deepening scowl at each passing moment. My fingers drummed on the table, betraying my restlessness.

Staying still was not an option for me.

With each chime of the clock, my irritation intensified, secretly wishing for a mishap to disrupt the meticulously planned marriage orchestrated by my parents.

Nevertheless, I feigned interest, not wanting to appear indifferent to the marriage. "Dad, may I have a word?" I requested, turning to him.

His friends stepped aside, and before he could respond, I asked, "Dad, what's causing the hold-up?"

"Women and their dressing rituals take time, just like your mother," he said, nodding towards my mom.

"Sure, but this is taking an eternity, and I'm growing weary of this space," I complained, receiving a reassuring pat from my father.

"Relax, they wouldn't dare cause a scene, or they'll regret the embarrassment," he assured me.

SELENA'S POV

"I refuse to do it!" I declared to my mother, exasperated after countless pleas. She had been incessantly urging me to marry a man I did not know, and my patience was wearing thin.

"How dare you raise your voice?" she snapped back, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Forgive me, Mother, but marrying Aiden Evans is impossible when my heart belongs to another," I said softly, trying to reason with her.

"Enough with this talk of love. We both understand the dire consequences of defying the Evans. Our very lives are at stake," she reminded me, her voice firm.

"It's clear you're indifferent to my feelings. My happiness is irrelevant to you, isn't it?" I challenged, locking eyes with her.

She turned away, arms folded, avoiding my gaze. "That's precisely why Gabriella fled, and I can't blame her. This is on you for agreeing to such terms," I continued, pointing accusingly at her.

"I'm not interested in who's to blame. All I expect is for you to replace your sister, that's all," she stated firmly, showing no signs of backing down.

"Think about your father. Do this for him, if not for me," she implored more gently.

"He was the one indebted, and if you wish to preserve his reputation, then act. Otherwise, do nothing. I won't bother-" she said, her voice trailing off.

"I'll do it," I interjected, and I saw a glimmer of relief on her face.

"That's my daughter. Now, dress in Gabriella's gown and join me downstairs," she instructed, handing me the dress before exiting.

What have I agreed to? Why did I consent to this absurd marriage? It was the memory of my father that haunted me.

The bridal gown felt like shackles rather than finery. Each adornment weighed heavily upon me, symbolizing the burdensome expectations placed upon my shoulders.

Gazing into the mirror, I saw a bride whose eyes reflected uncertainty about a future dictated by duty, not affection.

Adjusting my veil, I resigned myself to my fate, thinking, 'For my family, for honor,' a mantra now ingrained in me as I donned the dress with reluctance.

Lost in contemplation, the sound of my phone jolted me back to reality. My heart thundered. Derrick, I muttered. It was Derrick calling.

What should I do? How could I explain? As the phone continued to ring, I turned away, tears streaming down my face, until the ringing ceased.

What should I tell Derrick when he discovers I'm marrying someone else?

A knock interrupted my reverie. "Selena, it's time," Laura, our loyal servant, and my father's friend, announced as she entered.

"Could you ask my mother for a couple more minutes?" I pleaded, standing and wiping away tears.

"I'm sorry, Selena. Mrs. Rose Vance, your mother, insists I escort you downstairs immediately," Laura said, her eyes on the ground.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to collect myself. The path ahead was treacherous, and my heart weighed heavy with secrets about my sister's pregnancy. But for now, duty demanded my compliance, even if it meant sacrificing my own desires.

"I don't mean to pry," Laura remarked, her voice soft, "but it's evident you're not thrilled about this marriage."

"You're right, Laura. But we must do what's necessary for our family's sake," I replied, trying to sound convincing.

After a brief silence, I mustered a smile and said, "Let's go ahead," as Laura helped me down, holding the end of my bridal train.

The crowd's murmuring stopped as the wedding march began, and I descended

the stairs, sporting a pretend smile. The priest, dressed entirely in white, took his place. My mother's eyes sparkled with triumph as if she'd won the lottery. I couldn't wait for this to be over as I reached Aiden Evans, the groom, at the altar.

"You look beautiful," he said, but I gave no response. The last thing on my mind was to act as if all was perfect.

After the priest's short sermon, the moment everyone awaited arrived, and my heart pounded. The priest looked at me and asked, "Miss Selena Vance, do you take Mr. Aiden Evans as your husband, in joy and sorrow, until death do you part?"

I can't go through with this, I thought, eyes shut, as whispers filled the air. I wished to vanish, but reality hit when the priest asked again.

AIDEN'S POV

Rejecting this charade was all I could think about. Despite knowing that my family's reputation would be the talk of Los Angeles and beyond, I was prepared to put an end to it, yet I didn't want to be the one to halt everything. For the first time in ages, I silently implored the Blessed Virgin Mary to inspire Selena to reject this farcical union.

SELENA'S POV

The buzz of the assembly grew louder, and visions of my father haunted me. "Do it for your father," my mother's voice resonated in my head, prompting me to exhale deeply.

"I do," I uttered at last, prompting applause from everyone.

Looking at Aiden, I sensed his discontent. Perhaps he detested this as much as I did. Better still, I had no intention of enduring six months with him.

The priest's inquiry interrupted my thoughts, "Mr. Aiden Evans, do you take Miss Selena Vance as your wife, through good and bad times, until death do you apart?"

I silently wished for him to refuse, sparing me the blame. Yet, my hope was dashed as he affirmed, "Yes," with a nod.

The audience erupted in cheers, and the priest announced, "You may now kiss the bride."

The reality of the situation was suffocating, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. My lips parted, but not for the kiss; they trembled with the magnitude of the unspoken truth clawing its way up my throat.

My heart raced, pleading for an intervention, for a power outage, a sudden storm, anything to halt the inevitable.

And then, as his face drew nearer, a question surfaced, sharp and urgent, demanding an answer: Was I prepared to spend six months with a stranger just to settle my father's debts?