Chapter 4

The honeymoon suite was breathtaking. It was the kind of place people dreamt about, a secluded villa perched on a cliffside overlooking the serene, turquoise waters of the Amalfi Coast. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed a view so picturesque it could have been pulled straight from a postcard. There was an infinity pool that seemed to stretch into the ocean itself, and the villa was adorned with elegant furnishings that exuded luxury. It was perfect.

And yet, it might as well have been a prison.

I sat at the edge of the massive king-sized bed, still in my pale blue sundress. My hair was still styled in the soft curls the stylist had worked on that morning before we’d boarded the private jet. I hadn’t bothered to change or freshen up after we’d arrived. What was the point? I’d spent hours waiting for Julian to show up, but the villa was silent except for the gentle lapping of the waves outside. He was nowhere to be found.

I sighed, glancing at the small table in the corner of the room where a slice of our wedding cake sat on a delicate china plate. It was the only evidence that this was supposed to be a honeymoon. The rest of the villa felt cold, lifeless. I hadn’t wanted to eat it, but my stomach had protested after hours of nothing but water and anxiety. So there I was, sitting alone on what was supposed to be the first night of our married life, eating wedding cake in a villa meant for two.

The cake was beautiful, just like everything else about the wedding, and just as hollow. The sugar flowers on top were intricately designed, and the buttercream frosting was rich and decadent. But as I took another bite, I couldn’t help but feel like it tasted bitter. Perhaps that was my mood poisoning even the sweetest things.

I set the fork down and stared at the plate for a moment, my chest tightening. This was it. This was my life now. Sitting alone in a breathtaking villa, eating cake that I couldn’t enjoy, waiting for a man who didn’t want me. I had known Julian wouldn’t be thrilled about the marriage, but I hadn’t expected him to disappear completely on the first day of our honeymoon. I didn’t even know where he was. I had no idea if he was out drinking, gambling, or... my stomach churned at the thought—spending time with someone else.

The thought made my throat tighten, but I quickly pushed it aside. I couldn’t afford to go down that rabbit hole. Not now. Not when I had to keep some semblance of composure. I had promised myself that I would try, that I would make the effort to be civil with Julian, no matter how much he resented me. But sitting here alone, staring at a slice of wedding cake and listening to the crushing silence of the villa, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was all worthless.

I stood abruptly, pacing the room in an attempt to shake off the suffocating weight in my chest. My bare feet brushed against the cool marble floor as I walked to the window and gazed out at the ocean. The moon hung low in the sky, its light reflecting off the water in shimmering streaks. It was beautiful, so beautiful that it hurt. I pressed my hand against the glass, wishing I could feel the breeze, the salt in the air, something real to ground me.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be,” I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

But what had I wanted? Even I didn’t know anymore. A life of happiness and love? That had been stolen from me the moment my father had decided my fate. Freedom to pursue my dreams? That had been taken too. All that was left was this, an empty marriage with a man who despised me, a life of cold civility and isolation.

And yet, despite everything, I still wanted to try. I still wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could get better. That Julian and I could find some common ground, even if it was just a threadbare foundation of mutual respect. I don’t expect love, I just want some kind of friendship. I don’t wanna live the rest of my life in this hollow, lifeless state. If I was going to survive this marriage, I needed to try.

I turned away from the window and walked back to the bed, grabbing the plate with the cake before heading to the small sitting area near the fireplace. I curled up on the loveseat, tucking my legs beneath me as I stared at the flames dancing in the hearth. The warmth was comforting, a small reprieve from the coldness that seemed to emanate from every corner of my life. I picked at the cake absentmindedly, my thoughts drifting to Julian.

Where was he? What was he doing? Did he even care that I was here, alone, on what was supposed to be the most romantic night of our lives? I doubted it. Julian Blackwood had made it abundantly clear that he wanted no part of this marriage. He had been cruel and dismissive from the moment we met, and his actions—or lack thereof—only reinforced how little he cared about my presence in his life.

And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him. I wanted to, desperately. It would have been so much easier if I could just hate him, if I could let that anger fuel me instead of this aching loneliness. But there was a part of me, small and fragile, that understood why he was the way he was. He hadn’t chosen this marriage any more than I had. He was just as much a pawn in this game as I was.

That thought didn’t excuse his behavior, but it made it harder to completely villainize him. I knew what it felt like to have your choices taken away, to be forced into a life you didn’t want. Maybe, in some twisted way, we were more alike than I realized.

I finished the last bite of cake and set the plate aside, leaning back against the cushions as exhaustion began to creep in. The fire crackled softly, the warmth lulling me into a state of drowsiness. My thoughts were still tangled in the web of my reality, but I forced myself to focus on one thing, trying. I would try to make this work, to find some semblance of peace in this chaotic, loveless marriage. It was the only way I could hold on to any sense of myself.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, staring into the flames and letting my mind wander, but eventually, the sound of the villa door opening snapped me out of my thoughts. My heart leapt in my chest as I turned toward the noise, hoping for a moment that it was Julian, that he had finally returned. But the footsteps that followed were heavy and unsteady, and when he finally appeared in the doorway, I realized he was drunk.

Julian’s tie was loose around his neck, and his jacket hung off one shoulder as he stumbled into the room. His green eyes were glassy, and his lips curled into a lopsided smirk when he saw me sitting there. “Well, look at you,” he slurred, gesturing toward me with a lazy wave. “Playing the perfect little wife already, huh?”

I stood slowly, my heart sinking at the sight of him. “You’re drunk,” I said quietly, stating the obvious.

He laughed, the sound bitter and cold. “Of course I’m drunk. How else am I supposed to survive this farce of a marriage?”

His words stung, but I refused to let him see how much they hurt. Instead, I stepped forward, my voice calm but firm. “You don’t have to like this marriage, Julian. But we’re in it together, whether we like it or not. So maybe we can try to make the best of it.”

He scoffed, his smirk fading as his eyes hardened. “The best of it? There is no ‘best’ in this, Elena. This is a cage, and I don’t intend to make myself comfortable in it.”

Without another word, he turned and stumbled toward the bedroom, leaving me standing alone once again. I stared after him, my chest tight with a mix of frustration and sadness. I didn’t know if I could reach him, if I could break through the walls he had built around himself. But I knew one thing for certain—I wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.