6

Valentina pov

One month later 

Life involves navigating various paths and deciding whether to confront the harsh realities or not.

This is the reality.

These were the thoughts I penned in the dressing room before emerging to confront the situation.

This wasn't what I had envisioned for myself. It was the opposite of my dreams and desires.

I had always been a firm believer in love, possibly because I'd experienced it with beautiful souls. I had never believed in marrying for any reason other than love, but here I was, doing exactly what I'd never believed in or thought existed.

Distracted, I let the applause blend into the background as I approached the wedding arbor where the groom of the day, Rocco, awaited me. Today, I would become his bride. Not because we loved each other, but for other reasons and goals.

I wanted my father to recover his former strength and confidence, and I also sought revenge on Fred and Brenda. Not for the sake of restoring our financial status, but because helping my father regain his business would likely lead to it, which is why my mother was all smiles.

I never believed money solved everything.

For Fred and Brenda, this was only the beginning. I intended to make them beg for forgiveness on their knees. What better life could a woman desire than being married to a billionaire, and not just any billionaire, but the city's youngest one?

This was my revenge tactic.

Fred would be shocked, Brenda would be caught off guard, and I'd ensure their lives became a living hell.

The mere thought of my revenge filled me with excitement, even more than the prospect of my father regaining his business and partnering with the Lorenzos.

Although my mind was racing with thoughts, I was alert. My gaze remained locked with Rocco's as I carefully made my way toward him.

We hadn't seen each other since our date, and I was sure he'd be surprised to see me without my disguise. If he hadn't already searched for me on social media out of curiosity, he was in for a shock.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. I might be marrying him, but I felt like a genius and a boss.

Two captains on a ship. I wouldn't let him order me around like an illiterate woman.

That's why I'd proposed the idea of a contract marriage, which we'd sign tonight after the wedding ceremony. He might set the rules, but I had my own plans for him.

When I was close, I offered a smile, but he remained stern without a hint of a smile.

Lifting the hem of my wedding dress, I took another step toward him, careful not to step on it. With the little bride beside me, I received the wedding flowers.

The applause subsided, and everyone took their seats as the priest moved closer with a lingering smile.

I had no bridesmaids or maid of honor because Brenda was my only female friend, and Fred was my only male friend. Since I was no longer friends with Brenda and Fred, I had no friends. I couldn't see Rocco's best man either, and I wondered if it was because I had no maid of honor or if he had no friend either.

The priest began the ceremony, pulling me out of my thoughts and causing me to focus on Rocco.

"We are gathered here today to join Rocco Lorenzo and Valentina Martins in holy matrimony before God and man. Marriage is a wonderful thing, a sacred vow to spend your life with one person for all eternity, to support each other through thick and thin," the priest intoned, then took the ring from the ring bearer, who was dressed like a priest.

I was now certain that Rocco didn't have a best man. Shouldn't the ring bearer have been in that role?

Stretching the first ring to Rocco, the priest declared, "You may now exchange the vows."

Rocco took the ring with confidence, as if he genuinely desired this marriage and didn't just need it.

He turned to face me, extending his open palm for me to place my fingers on. In his other hand was a costly diamond ring, a testament to his billionaire status. So much for marrying a billionaire.

I was sure my mother was holding her breath. She knew me so well and how much effort she'd exerted to convince me to go through with the wedding. She probably believed I'd agreed to this to humiliate both families by announcing to the audience that it was an arranged marriage and we weren't in love. However, I had different plans. Slowly, I placed my left hand in his open palm, and he began reciting his vows in a loud, clear voice.

"In the presence of God, I, Rocco Lorenzo, accept you, Valentina Martins, as my legitimate wife, to hold and cherish from this day onward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and care for until death parts us." He delicately slides the diamond ring onto my middle finger, and I almost want to burst into laughter.

Why did that vow seem so heartfelt? Is this the moment where I should be moved to tears?

I'm fighting to hold in my laughter and keep it from bubbling over.

"Valentina," his stern voice jerks me out of my thoughts, and I realize it's my turn to recite my vows. The priest watches me intently, the second ring outstretched before me.

Other than Rocco's voice, the vast hall filled with thousands is in complete silence, so still that a pin drop might be heard. I can't tell if it's just my imagination or if everyone is anxious to witness our marriage proceeding smoothly.

I take the ring from the priest, and my hand trembles.

And then it hits me.

I'm getting married. Whether or not the contract comes into play doesn't matter right now. I'm genuinely getting married.

To Rocco Lorenzo.

A man I don't love. A man I never expected to cross paths with or share any experiences.

This isn't Fred.

I always hoped Fred would propose to me. I didn't want to give him the notion that I wanted us to get married. I wanted him to think of it himself and propose without external interference.

Besides my age, at this point, I wouldn't have considered marrying anyone willingly except Fred.

Marrying Rocco at my age is out of necessity.

I'm genuinely getting married to someone who isn't Fred, the man I've loved with all my heart since I was 20.

He's my first love, and I doubt that his betrayal will ever allow me to love another man.

When this marriage comes to an end, I'll give dating another shot. Maybe I'll find someone more honest and prepared to give me what I want: a marriage filled with nothing but love and laughter. By then, I'll be old enough, no longer deemed young.

"In the name of God, I, Valentina Martins, take you, Rocco Lorenzo, as my legitimate husband, to have and to hold, from this day onward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, until death separates us." I gently slide the diamond ring onto his middle finger, just as he did to me a few minutes ago.

I hear a sigh of relief from Rocco, and I look up at him as he withdraws his hand from mine. Another round of applause fills the air.

The crowd bursts into excited screams, and I turn my head to where my dad is seated with my mother. My mother beams with pride and waves at me, while my father maintains a stoic expression. He simply nods and smiles at me.

When the excitement settles, and I focus on the floor between Rocco and me, my mind in disarray, the priest clears his throat.

"With the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

I didn't remember this part of the wedding ceremony, and I lift my head with my eyes nearly bulging.

Rocco is going to kiss me?

No!

Fred remains the only man who's ever kissed me, and I simply can't kiss a man I don't love.

The scent of cologne emanating from his tuxedo pulls me out of my thoughts as he lifts my veil, revealing my true face.

My jaw drops, my heart races, wondering if he's genuinely going to kiss me.

As he leans closer, I realize I need to act, to prevent this kiss. We're not in love; we're simply married.

He wants to do this to make it seem real, but I can't allow it.

The idea of pushing him away crosses my mind just before his lips reach mine, but I shake it off. Instead, I turn my face aside, and his perfunctory kiss lands on my left cheek.

He retreats quickly, his expression surprised, and he fixes me with a cold glare.

I can't help but grin proudly.