Chapter 2: My Enemy

SEVASTIAN

I tightened my hold on her waist as we moved down the aisle, my eyes scanning the crowd briefly before glancing down at Celestina. 

Her head was tilted slightly upward, her expression one of pure bridal serenity a great facade to fool everyone. 

"You might enjoy this a little too much,” I murmured under my breath, just loud enough for her. 

My lips curled in a smirk, though I didn’t bother looking at her face.

Her reply came soft and sweet, coated in mockery. “And you might find yourself wishing you’d chosen someone weaker.”

Her words sent a flicker of amusement through me, unexpected but not unwelcome. 

I let out a low laugh, one I didn’t bother to mask. It blended perfectly with the cheers of our audience. “Oh, I chose perfectly, amore. Weakness isn’t entertaining.”

Her smile sharpened, and I caught the gleam in her eyes, dangerous and intoxicating. 

She leaned in just enough to keep her tone private. “Good. Because I don’t intend to bore you, I only mean to destroy you.”

I laughed again, this time louder, letting the sound echo through the hall as though her threat was the punchline to a private joke. 

To them, it was a display of marital bliss. To me, it was confirmation of what I already knew.

Celestina Valeztina was exactly as the rumors say. A beautiful vase, yes, but one filled with barbs and venom. 

A porcelain shell hiding steel.

Perfect.

As we reached the exit, the cameras flashed and the crowd’s cheers rose higher. 

I leaned down, my lips close to her ear. 

“You’ll have to work harder than that, cara mia.” As I settled beside her as we both waited for our car to come. 

As our bridal car stopped in front of us, I turned to her, my voice low but charged. “You play a dangerous game, wife. Are you sure you can keep up?”

Her lips curved, showing her confidence returning in full force. “Oh, my dear husband, I don’t play to keep up. I play to win.” She replied as she entered the inside of the car. 

I followed her and leaned back in my seat, studying her with the same careful precision I’d use on my opponent while dealing with some things.

And I can say, she was clever, I’d give her that. But cleverness wasn’t enough.

This was my game. And before it was over, she’d learn what it meant to face an Ortega.

The car pulled away, the muffled cheers of the crowd fading behind us. 

Inside the bridal car, silence settled like a heavy curtain, but it wasn’t peace. 

It was a standoff. The air crackled with unspoken tension, the kind that spoke of hidden knives and unshed blood.

I turned my gaze toward her, Celestina Valeztina—my wife and daughter of my enemy. 

“You wear the title well, mia cara,” I said, my tone laced with mock admiration as my eyes traced the line of her jaw. “I almost believed your vows. Almost.”

She didn’t even glance at me, her fingers brushing over the embroidered edge of her veil as though I hadn’t spoken. “And you deliver threats so elegantly, mio caro. Almost like you believe you’re the only one capable of keeping them.”

I smirked, leaning slightly toward her, enough to invade her space. “Careful, Celestina. Arrogance has a way of backfiring.”

Her eyes flicked toward me then, cool and sharp like a dagger slipped between ribs. 

“And overconfidence has a way of turning victories into mistakes.” She leaned back into her seat, a picture of composure, though her words carried the weight of a steel sword. 

“Let me guess, Sevastian. You believe I’m just another pawn on your board? Another piece to maneuver?”

I chuckled, low and dark. “No, my dear. You’re not a pawn. You’re something far more dangerous, a queen.” My smirk widened. “But the problem with queens is that they’re always one move away from falling.”

Her laugh was soft, almost melodic, but it carried the same razor’s edge as mine. “And kings,” she said, her voice a velvet threat, “are always the first to die when the board tips.”

I couldn’t help the genuine amusement that slipped past my mask for a moment. 

She was good, better than I expected.

“Tell me, mia cara,” I said, leaning closer, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Do you practice these little retorts in front of a mirror, or are you simply gifted at hiding the trembling underneath?”

She turned to face me fully then, her lips curling into a slow, calculated smile. “Oh, there’s no trembling, mia caro. You mistake my stillness for fear when it’s really a strategy.”

I raised a brow, intrigued despite myself. “Strategy, is it? And what exactly are you strategizing, mia cara? How to play the dutiful wife, or how to dismantle me without losing yourself in the process?”

Her expression didn’t waver, but I caught the faintest flicker in her eyes, one that told me she understood the rules of this game better than most. 

“Both,” she said simply. “But you’re wrong about one thing. I don’t intend to dismantle you. That’s too easy.”

“Oh?” I tilted my head, my smirk widening. “Do tell me.”

“I intend to make you watch,” she said, her voice soft and venomous, “as I dismantle everything you’ve built. Piece by piece, move by move, until there’s nothing left but the ashes of your pride.”

Her words sent a thrill down my spine, one I couldn’t quite place as fear or exhilaration. 

“Ambitious. I’ll give you that,” I said, my tone deceptively casual. “But ambition without execution is just a dream. And dreaming, mia cara, is for fools who don’t know when they’ve lost.”

She turned away, looking out the window as the city blurred past. “Oh, I don’t dream, mio caro. I plan to kill you, and unlike you, I don’t mistake boldness for infallibility.”

Her reflection in the glass caught my eye, and for a moment, I saw something I hadn’t before. 

There was a spark of determination but also a darkness that mirrored my own.

I think I married my own death, I guess? 

I couldn't help but chuckle. 

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to win or if I wanted to see just how far she’d go before she fell.