CHAPTER 2: The Wedding

-=Martina's Point of View=-

I was in complete disbelief when I saw who my groom was, and I couldn't help but keep looking at Fiona.

"Are you marrying me off to him?" I asked, unable to believe it.

"Yes, is there something wrong with that? Besides, I mentioned that you know him, didn't I?" She replied, acting as if there was no issue with my future husband.

Everyone is familiar with Zion Montgomery. I mean, who wouldn't know about one of the wealthiest individuals in the world?

I've heard about him through the news, particularly in the business sections, and I've seen his face in numerous newspapers. However, I don't personally know him or have ever met him, so it puzzles me. How does my stepmother know someone as wealthy as Zion Montgomery, and why would he want to marry me in the first place?

A feeling of unease came over me when I sensed someone staring intently at me. When I glanced over, I saw Zion looking directly at me.

Our eyes connected, and I immediately noticed that his eyes were a shade of gray, almost like silver, resembling the color of the moon in a clear sky.

I'm not certain if it's just my imagination, but I believe I detected longing in the way he looked at me, which sent a shiver down my spine. I quickly averted my gaze.

I already expected my groom to be older, but I didn't anticipate him being this old. If I recall correctly, according to the news, he must be over a hundred years old by now.

There's also a rumor that circulates occasionally claiming that he uses young women to stay alive, which I find somewhat laughable.

Perhaps he's simply been incredibly fortunate to live for such a long time, or maybe he maintains a healthy lifestyle that has contributed to his longevity.

I cautiously glanced back at him, and this time his gaze was elsewhere, allowing me the opportunity to observe him.

He appeared incredibly old and frail, with sagging skin, hair as white as powder, and a hunched back, yet his posture still conveyed a certain strength.

Surprisingly, he didn't require a cane or any support to stand, remaining steady as he waited for us to make our way to the front of the church.

A part of me desperately wanted to turn around and escape, but my stepmother clung tightly to my hand, as if she could read my thoughts.

"Don't even think about running, Martina, or else your father will suffer the consequences," she threatened in a hushed tone.

Those words left me disheartened. While I could bear any consequences I faced, I couldn't bear the thought of my father suffering if I were to actually run away.

I pushed aside my plan to back out. For the sake of my father, I had to go through with this, even if it meant marrying a man who was nearly three times older than my father.

My feet felt unnaturally heavy, as if they were made of lead, as I continued to walk closer to the altar, where my groom awaited.

I fought against the strong urge to turn and flee. I pressed on, and finally, we stood before Zion. When our eyes met, a chill ran down my spine, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, affected by his unwavering gaze.

There was something about the way he looked at me that sent shivers down my spine. It wasn't that I saw lust in his eyes, but rather an indescribable feeling.

"Please take care of our... daughter," Fiona said, her voice trembling, as she wiped away her fake tears with a white handkerchief.

If Fiona chose to pursue acting, I have no doubt she would win the award for Best Actress with her convincing performance. If I didn't know any better, I might have been deceived by her remarkable acting skills as well.

She pretends to be a loving mother, but deep down, she is a despicable and selfish person who is using me to achieve her own goals.

Reluctantly, I raised my hand and flinched when I felt his cold, rough hand. I was taken aback by his firm grip, as if he weren't an old man.

His grip doesn't feel like that of an old man, but rather of someone in their youth, but I immediately dismissed that thought, thinking that maybe I was overthinking such nonsensical thoughts.

Silent and wordless, he guided me to the front of the altar. I wanted to cry, but no tears escaped my eyes.

Although I know there is no turning back now that I've come this far, a glimmer of hope remains that someone might intervene and halt this wedding. However, I realize now that I was simply deluding myself by foolishly clinging to an improbable wish.

The wedding proceeded as planned. No one attempted to stop the ceremony or come to my rescue.

"Do you, Zion, take Martina to be your lawful wife?" the priest asked.

"I do," Zion replied.

"And do you, Martina, take Zion to be your lawful husband?"

I tried to speak, but it felt as if something heavy were lodged in my throat, preventing any words from escaping. However, when I glanced at Fiona and saw her menacing expression, I managed to say, "I do."

"By the power vested in me by God and man, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride," the priest declared.

The thought of his aged lips touching mine made me feel nauseous, but I had no choice but to endure this and get it over with. I tightly shut my eyes, bracing myself for the inevitable. To my surprise, his lips landed on my cheek instead of my lips.

I quickly opened my eyes, but I was a moment too late as he shifted his gaze towards the crowd while holding my hands.

His action puzzled me, but that thought was swiftly forgotten when the guests began approaching us, offering their congratulations on our union.

I hardly knew a quarter of the guests, but I recognized a few wealthy businessmen I had seen in the news before.

Considering the groom, it was no surprise that the wealthiest and most powerful people in the country were in attendance.

They all smiled as they congratulated us, yet I could discern mockery and judgment in their eyes for marrying an old man who could pass away at any moment.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to believe that the majority of those present at our wedding viewed me as a conniving gold-digger. If only they knew the truth—that I was coerced into this marriage and vehemently opposed marrying someone like Zion, regardless of his wealth.

I mean, I'm just eighteen years old, and I have yet to experience falling in love. But due to my stepmother, I was forced into a union with someone over five times my age. However, there is no point in dwelling on what cannot be changed.

What's done is done, and now my focus shifts to persuading Zion to help my father. I also hope that he will agree to leave with us.

Fiona and I made an agreement that she would take care of my father, but I doubt she will honor that arrangement. Even if she does, I have no means of knowing, as I will be living with my husband from this point onward.

After the wedding ceremony, we headed straight to the city's most renowned French restaurant. This establishment holds an unrivaled reputation and is notoriously difficult to secure a reservation at. Even wealthy individuals, including millionaires, struggle to secure a table, as only the wealthiest of the wealthy are granted the privilege of dining in such an esteemed establishment.

Later, I discovered that the restaurant is actually owned by Zion and is part of his extensive chain of hotels and restaurants. This revelation didn't come as a surprise, considering Zion's status as one of the wealthiest individuals in the world. It's evident that he can afford the luxury associated with this type of restaurant.

I had heard of this place before. It's practically impossible not to, and I used to dream about visiting it with my dad. However, now that I'm finally here, I find myself devoid of any joy. Even with the 2000 vintage cote de boeuf, which happens to be the most expensive steak in the world, placed before me, I have no appetite to indulge in it.

Silently, I observed Zion, noting that he too abstained from his meal and instead sipped on a red liquid resembling blood. It momentarily crossed my mind that perhaps the rumors were true, but I swiftly dismissed that thought.

"Stop thinking!" I silently admonished myself, realizing I needed to put an end to these nonsensical thoughts, lest I faint.

The festivities carried on, with everyone reveling in the continuous flow of delectable food and drinks. I noticed my two stepsisters dancing and charming two handsome men, whom I recognized as the sons of the prominent oil tycoon, Henry Liu. Even my stepmother danced without a care, her movements exuding a youthful energy.

My attention shifted to my father, who was all alone in his wheelchair.

Determined to approach him, I was taken aback when I felt a strong grip on my wrist. As I turned to face Zion, his expression was cold and unwelcoming.

I tried to remove my hand from his grip, but shockingly, I couldn't even budge. I know that men are much stronger than women, but considering his age, I was expecting that he wouldn't have this kind of strength anymore.

"Where do you think you're going?" he inquired.

"I'm just going to see my dad," I replied, gesturing towards the location where my dad is.

Zion merely glanced in my dad's direction, instructing me not to leave, and then returned to his drinks without waiting for a response.

I breathed a sigh of relief when he finally let go of my hand, and I could see a mark from where he held me.

Part of me contemplated defying his command, but I ultimately chose against it. I didn't want to provoke him further; after all, I still needed to convince him to help my dad.

"Where are you going this time?" I heard Zion say it when I stood up.

"I'm going to the lady's room; am I not allowed to do so?" I couldn't help but sound sarcastic considering how much he was trying to restrict me from doing things; it was like he was worried that I would run away from him or that he was going to lose me.

He looked at me intently as if trying to see the truthfulness in my words, and after just a few seconds, he finally agreed, but before I could leave, he told me to hurry.

I immediately went to the lady's room to do my business and worried that I might piss Zion off, I decided to hurriedly go back to his side.

I automatically spotted him talking to his assistant, he appeared to be in a serious conversation with him, as I could see his brows furrowed.

"Be strong, Martina," I whispered to myself, steeling my resolve as I took each determined step towards him.

Every fiber of my being was fixated on Zion, his presence captivating me so entirely that the world around me seemed to fade into insignificance. Unbeknownst to me, a waiter carefully balancing a precarious tray of dirty dishes approached from the other side. Lost in our separate worlds, neither of us noticed the impending collision.

And then, it happened.

In the blink of an eye, our paths converged, and I accidentally collided with the waiter, throwing him off balance. My heart skipped a beat, anticipating the shattering crash of crockery and the sting of humiliation. I dreaded the thought of making a spectacle of myself, especially in front of Zion, jeopardizing any chance I had of imploring his assistance.

But fate had a different plan in store for me.

In that fleeting moment of vulnerability before the chaos ensued, I was swept off my feet by a pair of powerful arms. Startled, I instinctively closed my eyes, bracing myself for the inevitable cacophony of shattered plates and glass hitting the floor.

Hearing the noise, I automatically opened my eyes and stared at the mess, and it took me just a few seconds before I moved my gaze to the person who had just saved me from the pain and, more importantly, the embarrassment.

"Thank..."

I didn't manage to finish what I was about to say when I finally saw the person who saved me.

My mind was in complete turmoil, and I couldn't understand how it was possible that he was the one who saved me.

"Are you hurt?" Zion asked in a worried tone, which surprised me considering the cold treatment he had been giving me earlier.

"I'm ok, but how could you..."

A lot of questions were running through my head, but I couldn't even know where or how to start asking them.

I'm perplexed as to how he reached me so swiftly given the considerable space between us previously. In addition, how did a very old man manage to lift me effortlessly?

I wanted to ask him, but before I could open my mouth, he beat me to it and told me to compose myself, and then I finally realized that everyone was looking at me.

I immediately stood up and composed myself, and when I looked at where Zion was standing, I realized that he was no longer beside me and had returned to his original spot.

I hurriedly returned to my original spot and tried not to think about what happened, but I couldn't stop myself from secretly looking in Zion's direction.

"Am I just imagining things?" I silently asked myself, but I decided to just let it go since I have more important things to worry about.

Around ten o'clock, the festivities came to an end. One by one, people began offering their congratulations before departing, until only my family, Zion, and his assistant remained in the restaurant.

"When we're wealthy now, Fiona, I hope you'll keep your promise," I addressed her when I finally had the chance to talk privately.

"Rest assured, I'll ensure we hire the best nurse available," she replied, her delight evident.

I opted to disregard her comment. Our agreement was for her to take care of my father, but the thought of a professional nurse attending to him put my mind at ease.

"I'll be waiting in the car," Zion announced, granting my father and me the opportunity to talk. He proceeded towards his Rolls Royce.

I gazed at him, noticing tears welling up in his eyes. To prevent him from breaking down, I decided to speak up.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, and I promise, I'll make sure you recover," I reassured him, suppressing my own tears and striving to remain strong.

I embraced him one final time before joining Zion in the car. Fearful of the possibility of leaving with them, I refrained from looking back.

"Are you okay?" I heard him inquire.

"Yes, let's just go," I pleaded, resting my head against the passenger seat.

I observed him signal the driver to start the car, and after a few moments, we finally departed from the restaurant.

I have no idea what lies ahead, and the uncertainty terrifies me to the core.