Chapter 4: The Vow I Never Expected

Adam Bella

The room fell silent, a strange tension hanging in the air. Cynthia hesitated, glancing at the other maids, before whispering, “She…”

Before she could elaborate, David strode in, his face as stoic as ever. “It’s time,” he announced, slicing through the tension like a knife.

I stood up, expecting at least a compliment on my appearance, but he merely raised an eyebrow, surprised, before his expression hardened once more.

I need to teach this guy a lesson. Why can’t he just say, “You look beautiful”? Is that so hard?

I followed David outside, another car waiting for us. Why can't we just use the car that brought us here? This seemed unnecessary. I anticipated him opening the door for me, but instead, he slammed it shut behind him. What a jerk. One of the guards stepped forward, opening the door for me as I entered.

The car ride was thick with silence until we arrived at the beach, where a throng awaited us, eager paparazzi capturing the moment with flashes of light.

I had never experienced anything like this—hundreds of cameras aimed at me, my face veiled as I walked down the aisle. When the pastor asked, “Do you take this man as your beloved husband?” I felt a wicked thought flicker through my mind: What if I said “No” just to punish him?

I took a step closer, my voice low but full of defiance. “You know I could say ‘No’ to you right now…”

He smirked, a glint of challenge in his eyes. “I dare you.”

His words hung in the air, a gauntlet thrown down as he stepped back, hands casually tucked into his pockets. He looked unfazed, as if he already knew my response. I had expected him to plead, to show some sign of vulnerability. But no, he stood there, unfazed, while the entire room held its breath, waiting for me to break.

I clenched my jaw, nails digging into my palm, fighting the urge to scream. Every pair of eyes was on me, their anticipation pressing down like a weight. I had no choice. The pressure was suffocating.

“Yes.”

The officiant’s voice boomed across the room. “You may kiss your bride.”

Wait. Bride? Whose bride?

My breath caught, and my chest tightened as realization struck. I turned just in time to see him stepping toward me, a sly grin tugging at his lips. Each step was slow and deliberate, as if he reveled in my discomfort.

When he reached up to lift my veil, his fingers brushed my skin, sending a shockwave through me. For a fleeting moment, our eyes locked, then he glanced down at my lips. My heart raced. He traced his finger over my mouth, lightly grazing my lower lip before kissing his own finger.

I inhaled sharply, the scent of fresh roses invading my senses. He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’m not going to kiss you. You’re not my type.”

Not his type? His words stung more than I cared to admit. If that was true, then why was he marrying me? I shot him a deadly glare as he pulled away, an amused smirk on his lips, as if he were playing a game and had already won.

Applause erupted from the audience, but it only deepened my confusion and anger.

On the ride back, I let my gaze drift to the trees outside, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The soft scent of flowers floated in through the open window, but even nature’s calming touch couldn’t soothe the chaos swirling inside me.

“Can you drop me at my apartment?” I asked, my voice strained, not bothering to look at him.

“Why?” His voice was cold, detached. “You’ll be moving in with me.”

Startled, I turned to him. “What? That’s not part of the agreement!” My words came out sharp, a protest against the sudden shift in our arrangement.

He barely glanced at me. “You made a deal without asking what you would gain from it.” His tone was dismissive, as if I should have known better.

“The arrangements are set. My driver will pick you up tomorrow morning at 8 a.m.”

He pulled the car to a stop outside my apartment. How did he know where I lived? I hadn't told him. I narrowed my eyes at him. “How do you know where I live?”

He smirked, the smugness in his voice clear. “I have my ways.”

One of his guards opened the door for me, and I stepped out, my mind racing. This was all too much. I needed sleep, to think, to figure out if any of this was even real.

As I approached my door, Elowen hurried toward me, her expression a mixture of curiosity and concern. Great. She was the last person I wanted to face right now.

“Who was that guy? And why was that guard bowing to you?” she asked, barely letting me breathe.

I sighed, exasperated. “Can I enter my apartment first?” I rolled my eyes as she finally stepped aside, allowing me in.

The moment I collapsed on the couch, Elowen dragged a chair closer, her eyes wide with eagerness. “Come on, Bels. Tell me!”

I took a deep breath, bracing myself for her barrage of questions. “I’m married.”

“What?!” She shot up from her seat, eyes wide in disbelief, her mouth hanging open. The shock on her face was priceless; I almost laughed. I should’ve taken a picture.

“How?!” she demanded. “You went to confront your cheating boyfriend, and now you’re... married? How does that even happen?”

I shrugged, still grappling with the reality myself. “It’s like a dream, honestly. I can’t wrap my head around it.” I pulled out the wedding certificate and ring, handing them to her. She grabbed them, her eyes nearly popping out as she read the name.