1

The archaic and overused tune of 'Here comes the bride' filled my ears, as the double brass doors swung open noisily.

Everyone rose up. It was time.

I sucked in a breath and took a step forward into the cathedral, my eyes absently scanning the crowd for familiar faces. They landed on my co-workers who stared back at me blankly, trying their best to hide the jealousy and disgust evident in their hostile expressions.

Looking away, I slowly put one feet in front of the other, moving towards the altar slowly like Mrs. Darcy instructed.

"Chin up and take your time, darling. They'll wait," the wedding planner said, right before she winked at me and left to deliver the expenses to my in-laws.

I switched my focus to the groom and saw him spotting a frown while he subtly checked his watch. He still had not perfected the art of giving an expressionless face, raising his head to glare at me with an eyebrow raised.

I stared back at him and tried to smile as I walked on, posing for the unsuspecting guests armed with cameras and notebooks ready to tear me down the second I messed up.

Finally, I reached the altar and heaved a sigh of despair as the bridal train let go of my gown and the groom clasped my hand with urgency. Now, I had to deal with an unnecessarily heavy dress and a tight grip.

Immediately the priest made the sign of the cross–which I dutifully performed–and began to speak, I tuned my brain towards the last episode of Hotel de Luna and tears immediately pooled in my eyes.

Bad choice, as departing ghosts were now a weakness. I sniffed hastily, feeling the grip on my hand tighten.

I whispered instantly, "Please release my hand. I am trying not to cry, and there is no need to have a repeat of last night."

He dropped my hand too eagerly, causing it to hit the chair. I winced and rubbed around it, smiling at the memory. Sneaking around the dinner last night to get a glimpse of the final scene, tearing up and ruining my makeup in the process, and having a small brawl with my soon to be sister-in-law caused an incident no one wanted a repeat of.

I glanced back at the priest, a dark man with full beards who was speaking intently on marriage vows. I tuned out again, focusing instead on counting the bulbs of the high ceiling chandeliers.

After a while, he beckoned to the groom and I and made us kneel to receive blessings. Unlike in the movies, he skipped the part about exchanging our personal vows, and moved straight to the exchange of wedding rings.

Of course, he turned to the groom first and asked,

"Cole Winston, do you take Elizabeth Watson to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love and to hold, to cherish and to protect, for rich or for poor, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

The whole church went dead silent, and I glanced at my boss. The entitled, arrogant, and unfairly handsome man I worked under for three years. The man I was about to sign a second contract with.

"Yes," he answered immediately and smiled at the crowd. For effect.

"Elizabeth Watson, do you take Cole Winston to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love and to hold, to cherish and to protect, for rich or for poor, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

I nearly shook my head. Apart from 'lawfully wedded wife' and the riches part, nothing else held any weight. I was about to defy my beliefs and enter a contract marriage for money.

My value and freedom bought by money and fame, sure to end in separation. I felt my spirits dampen.

"Miss Elizabeth?" I heard my name, and turned to look at the priest who was still waiting for my response.

"What? Yes, I take Cole to be my husband," I responded, feeling a bitter taste in my mouth as the crowd erupted in applause.

The priest grinned and lifted up his hands, "With no further delay, I pronounce you husband and wife. Thanks be to God."

Did this man just call me a delay? If only he knew how many pay-offs the Winstons' indulged when our engagement broke out. Strings of flings and one nightstands with incriminating evidence, and enormous mouths to feed.

The man continued, oblivious to the sin involved in keeping up the sham, "You may now kiss the bride."

I froze up instantly and widened my eyes but before I could respond, Cole leaned over and pecked me softly on my lips. Thankfully, it was over before it began and the crowd seemed to accept it.

As they dished out congratulations to us, I smiled softly and tried to avoid the eyes of Cole's family. From experience, I knew they felt like strangling me now but instead his mother and sister came over with fake smiles plastered on their faces.

"Welcome to the family, darling," the red-haired woman said as she gave me a hug. The scent of her perfume stuck in my nose and I grimaced, fighting hard for air. The numerous pearl beads on her neck squashed against my low cut dress, pressing deep into my skin and I pushed back, but she held on.

"Just don't forget your place. You're not a Winston, and you'll never be. All this is just for show, none of us care one inch about you." She let go of me, still holding a perfect smile.

Cole chose that moment to walk away, advancing towards a group of older men who he clapped hands with as soon as he reached them, and a small jolt of pain washed over me. I would have to live with a man who felt indifferent about what his family thought about or said to me.

I raised my chin, and smiled back at the woman. No one of them needed to see my defeat. "Thank you. I have zero interest in your family name. Your son came with the offer, not me." I replied and turned to go, but stopped and glanced at his sister, "Your lipstick is smudged, by the way."

I walked over to where Cole stood, still talking, and put on the best forlorn face of a new bride who needed to be with her groom.

"Honey, let's go take a few pictures," I suggested, holding his hand while glancing over to smile at the men.

"Thank you for coming. You understand I have to steal him though, right?" I asked, layering on the sweetness I reserved for dealing with difficult clients.

"Yes of course. It's your big day," one of the men responded, urging us to move along. As we walked away, he called out, "Everyone of us is happy now, Cole."

We took a few pictures, and by the end of it, my cheeks were hurting me and the end of my four-inch heels had begun to bite into my feet. Contrary to the story she spun about it being ancestral and part of the family, I still believed my mother-in-law used them as a punishment.

A Ferrari drove into the hall, stopping right where I stood with my boss, now my husband. He made a stellar show of grinning as he opened the passenger door for me, stooping to plant another quick peck on my lips before getting into the driver seat.

Out of habit, I buckled up and waved at the crowd as Cole revved up and engine and drove us away, the soft breeze tickling my scalp.

"I'll transfer a part of the money to your account tomorrow," He said curtly, putting a black shade over his eyes as he turned into a high fenced building.

I nodded absently, turning to smile at the private jet waiting for our arrival. Being the Mrs. of a billionaire did not sound bad at all.