7

Emily's POV.

A week ago, I thought the world couldn’t get any worse. I was wrong. The chaos of that evening was nothing compared to the slow suffocation I’d been enduring since. Every second of every day had been a reminder of my entrapment, and now, here I was…sitting in the room of Cole’s father’s house, being painted and polished for a wedding I wanted no part of.

“Hold still,” the makeup artist scolded, her tone sharp as she grabbed my chin and angled my face. “Stop frowning, or the eyeliner will smudge.”

I clenched my fists in my lap, resisting the urge to shove her hand away. My jaw ached from how tightly I’d been clenching it, and my shoulders were stiff from the tension I couldn’t seem to shake. The more she worked, the more I felt like I was being turned into someone else…someone I didn’t recognize and certainly didn’t want to be.

“There, perfect,” she said finally, stepping back with a satisfied smile.

I didn’t look at her. I didn’t thank her. I didn’t care.

The second she left the room, I stood, needing to escape the suffocating space. My dress hung on the door, a cruel reminder of what awaited me in less than an hour. My heart pounded as I grabbed my phone and stepped into the hallway.

The house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made your own breathing sound too loud. I wandered aimlessly until I found a corner by a large window. The sunlight streaming in felt almost mocking…bright and cheerful, as if the world outside wasn’t crumbling.

I dialed my cousin, Lucas, the only person I could trust, the only one who truly understood me.

“Emily,” Lucas’s voice came through the line, warm and familiar. “Are you okay?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “What do you think? I’m about to marry a man I hate, surrounded by people who either pity me or don’t care at all. Of course, I’m not okay.”

“I wish I could be there,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “If I wasn’t halfway across the world…”

“I know,” I interrupted, not wanting him to feel guilty. “You’re the only reason I’m not completely losing my mind right now.”

“You don’t have to do this, Emily,” he said softly. “You can still walk away.”

I closed my eyes, the weight of his words pressing down on me. “It’s not that simple.”

We talked for a few more minutes before I hung up, feeling slightly less alone but no less trapped. As I made my way back down the hall, the sound of muffled sobs caught my attention.

I paused, frowning as I listened. A woman’s voice, choked with tears, drifted through the quiet. Then a man’s voice followed…low, soothing, and far too familiar.

Cole.

Curiosity and anger warred within me as I followed the sound, my steps slow and deliberate. The voices grew clearer as I approached a slightly ajar door.

“I’ll always love you,” Cole’s voice murmured, each word dripping with conviction. “Only you, Vanessa. Nothing will ever change that.”

Vanessa. So that was her name.

“You don’t mean that,” the woman replied, her voice thick with pain.

“I do,” Cole insisted. “This marriage won’t last a year. It’s just a formality. You and I will be together, no matter what.”

My stomach turned, and my blood boiled as I stood frozen outside the door. A part of me wanted to walk away, but something stronger…anger, disgust, or maybe just sheer defiance…compelled me to push the door open.

The scene inside felt like a punch to the gut. Cole stood there in his crisp two-piece suit, holding a woman in his arms. Her dark hair framed her tear-streaked face.

And then they kissed.

It wasn’t just a kiss…it was passionate, desperate, and hungry, like they couldn’t get enough of each other. My fists clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms as I watched in disgust.

Cole pulled away suddenly, as if sensing my presence. His eyes met mine, and the hatred in his gaze was like a slap to the face.

Neither of us spoke. The air between us was filled with tension, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t know whether to curse or walk away.