Chapter 003

Brielle's POV

”Oh my goodness, she's absolutely stunning!”

I opened my eyes, and the first thing that struck me was the enormous size of the room bathed in natural light.

The Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking view of the city. The walls seemed to stretch on forever, adorned with exquisite artwork and sleek mirrors. The bed beneath me was… impossibly soft.

“Drey’s picked a beauty this time,” a voice drawled from a distance “He’s got good taste, that one. I just hope she’s not as trigger-happy as the last one.”

“Shhh, Edna. We don’t want to wake her. Let her rest. She’ll need all her strength.”

“It’s her wedding day, Helen. If she doesn’t wake up in time, she’ll keep Drey and the priest waiting. You know we can’t have that.”

Wedding day? Drey? I felt as if I were in some twisted dream, nothing making sense. But the fear coursing through my veins told me that this was all too real.

I blinked my eyes wide open, hoping to clear the haze that clouded my mind, and found myself staring into the eager, expectant faces of two middle-aged women at the foot of the bed.

One woman was chocolate-brown, the other dark-haired, but both of them had an uncanny similarity. They could have been sisters.

“Good morning,” the dark-haired woman said with a beaming smile, looking more like the older of the two women. “It’s your wedding day, my dear! How exciting!”

I pushed myself up to a sitting position, my head still spinning. “Who…who am I getting married to? I… I don’t understand.”

The women exchanged a look, both of them still smiling, though their grins were beginning to seem a bit forced. “You’re getting married to Andrei, of course!” the dark-haired woman said, as if that should have been obvious

“Andrei Carter is your husband-to-be,” the chocolate-brown woman chimed in. “He brought you home last night, intoxicated. We tried our best to look after you. Thank goodness you’re alright now!” She paused, her smile slipping a bit. “You don’t remember?”

I shook my head.

The women each took one of my hands, their grips firm and insistent. “Come on, honey,” they urged, pulling me out of the bed and towards a fate I’d never asked for. “It’s time to get you ready for your wedding!”

I stumbled along, “I’m… I’m not sure I understand anything yet. How could this have happened?”

The women exchanged another look, their smiles now strained and tight. “Drey will explain everything,” the dark-haired one said, guiding me towards the bathroom. “But first, you need to get ready.”

The speed at which they moved left me feeling dazed and disoriented, but soon I found myself sitting in front of a mirror, staring at my reflection in an exquisite wedding gown.

“Let’s get started on your makeup,” the dark-haired woman said, looking at me in the mirror. “Edna, pass me the powder brush, please.”

“Right away," Edna replied, promptly handing over the requested item.

I was seated in front of the vanity, watching the two women fuss over me. My nerves were fraying as I tried to make sense of the situation.

“Who are you, both of you? If I may ask?” I managed, my voice quavering

“I’m Edna,” the chocolate-brown woman replied, smiling gently at me in the mirror.

I listened as the other woman, Helen, introduced herself. Her hair was dyed jet black, the strands glistening under the vanity lights as if she'd recently applied a glossing treatment to keep them shining. “And I'm Helen, my dear,” she said with a small smile.

“We’re Drey’s aunties” they answered in unison, their smiles widening. Helen continued, “We’ve known the little boy since he was five. He was our sister’s son, sadly she passed away, ever since we loved him and raised him like our own.”

Helen and Edna seemed genuinely caring, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t how weddings were supposed to happen.

Edna leaned forward, “Please, just trust us, my dear. Everything will be explained to you in due time. There's no need to worry.”

“Really?” I echoed back, unable to mask the skepticism in my tone.

Flanked by Edna and Helen_ their presence doing little to ease my mounting anxiety, I made my way downstairs to the garden where the wedding was to be held.

And there, in a wheelchair, sat a man I recognized as the same one who had rescued me from the bar last night.

But this time, he wore a mask, a sleek, black, and silver half-face mask that covered the left side of his face, made of a material that resembled lightweight metal alloy, with a silver trim.

Confusion and fear flooded through me. What was going on? Why was I marrying a man I didn’t know and why was he hiding his face?

Suddenly, I remembered. This was Andrei Carter, the man from Carter Industries who had been involved in a terrible accident. The news had been all over the media. This was the same man who had rescued me last night.

“Hello, wife,” he said, his voice resonating through the air as he gave me a crooked smile that didn’t match my anxious state_

"You’re my wife,” he insisted, his words tinged with a sense of ownership that made me shudder. “You signed the contract, remember? It’s binding.”

I tried to protest, but every denial was met with the same adamant response: “You’re my wife now.”