The diamonds on Aria Sterling's wedding gown shimmered beneath the crystal chandeliers like fallen stars.
Tonight, she had become Mrs. Lucien Blackwood.
The entire city had attended their wedding. Business tycoons. Celebrities. Politicians. Every powerful name that mattered had raised a glass to celebrate the union between the Sterling Group and the Blackwood Empire.
It was called the wedding of the century.
Aria should have felt like the luckiest woman alive.
Instead, as she stood alone in the quiet corridor of the Blackwood mansion, her hands trembled slightly beneath the lace gloves.
The reception was still ongoing downstairs. Soft classical music floated up through the grand staircase. Laughter. The clinking of champagne glasses.
But her husband had vanished.
Lucien Blackwood.
Cold. Imposing. Untouchable.
He had barely smiled throughout the ceremony. Even when he slid the diamond ring onto her finger, his expression had remained unreadable.
Still, he had chosen her.
Hadn't he?
Aria exhaled softly, convincing herself she was overthinking.
This marriage had been arranged by their families, yes—but Lucien had not objected. That had to mean something. He could have refused. He was powerful enough to refuse anything.
Yet he hadn't.
That thought had kept her heart hopeful for months.
She gathered her skirt gently and walked down the hallway toward the private study. Light seeped from beneath the dark oak door. A faint voice echoed inside.
Lucien's voice.
Relief washed over her.
She raised her hand to knock—
"…I told you, Sophia. The marriage is only temporary."
Aria's breath stopped.
The name struck her first.
Sophia.
Her fingers froze inches from the door.
Inside, Lucien's voice was low, calm, controlled.
"I don't love her."
The words pierced through the wood like knives.
"This marriage is a business arrangement. Once the merger is complete, I'll file for divorce."
Aria's bouquet slipped from her hand.
White roses scattered across the marble floor, petals breaking apart like fragile pieces of her heart.
Temporary?
Divorce?
Her ears rang.
Inside the study, a woman's soft voice responded—familiar, sweet, confident.
"You promise?" Sophia asked.
"I promise," Lucien replied without hesitation. "She means nothing to me."
Nothing.
The corridor seemed to tilt.
Aria took a step back, her heels unsteady against the marble. Her reflection in the decorative mirror looked like a stranger—beautiful, poised, glowing in diamonds.
A bride.
A fool.
She remembered the day Lucien had proposed—no, not proposed. Announced the engagement.
"It benefits both families," he had said simply.
She had mistaken his indifference for restraint. His distance for shyness. His silence for quiet affection.
How stupid.
Inside the study, Lucien continued speaking.
"Give me a year," he said. "After the shares are secured, I'll end it. I only married her for the Sterling voting rights."
Shares.
So that was her worth.
Stock percentages.
Corporate leverage.
Aria pressed a hand against her chest as if to physically hold her heart together.
The wedding had not been about love.
It had been a transaction.
A contract.
And she had signed it with devotion in her eyes.
A tear slid down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly.
No.
She would not cry here. Not outside his door like some desperate wife begging for affection.
She straightened slowly.
If he married her for shares…
Then she would divorce him for dignity.
The study door suddenly opened.
Aria stepped back instinctively.
Lucien stood there, tall and immaculate in his black tailored suit. His sharp features were illuminated by the soft golden light behind him. His dark eyes met hers—and for a split second, surprise flickered across his face.
Then it disappeared.
"Aria," he said calmly. "You're still awake."
Still awake.
As if she hadn't just heard her entire marriage collapse in a single sentence.
She forced a small smile. "I was looking for you."
Sophia's silhouette moved inside the study, but she did not step out. How considerate.
Lucien closed the door behind him.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
The audacity of the question almost made her laugh.
But Aria had been raised in high society. She knew how to mask pain behind elegance.
"Should something be wrong?" she asked softly.
His gaze lingered on her face, searching.
For what?
Tears? Accusation?
She gave him neither.
The silence stretched between them.
Downstairs, laughter erupted.
Upstairs, a marriage began dying.
"You should rest," Lucien said after a moment. "It's been a long day."
Yes.
A very long day.
"Lucien," she said gently.
He paused.
"Are you happy?"
The question seemed to catch him off guard.
His brows lowered slightly. "This marriage is beneficial."
That wasn't what she asked.
But it was the only answer she was ever going to get.
Beneficial.
Strategic.
Temporary.
She nodded slowly.
"I see."
He studied her expression again. If he noticed the subtle crack in her voice, he didn't mention it.
"I have matters to handle," he added. "We'll talk tomorrow."
Tomorrow.
She wondered if tomorrow would come with divorce papers.
"Of course," she replied.
Lucien gave a small nod and walked past her down the corridor.
He did not look back.
Aria stood there long after his footsteps faded.
The mansion suddenly felt enormous.
Cold.
Empty.
A place she did not belong.
She bent slowly to gather the fallen roses from the floor. One by one.
Petal by petal.
Careful not to let her tears fall again.
Because if this marriage was a contract—
Then she would treat it like one.
No love.
No weakness.
No expectations.
She walked back toward the master bedroom prepared for them.
The room was lavish beyond imagination. Silk sheets. Gold-trimmed furniture. A panoramic view of the city skyline glowing at night.
It was supposed to be their wedding suite.
Instead, it felt like a showroom.
She removed her veil carefully and placed it on the vanity.
Her reflection stared back at her.
Beautiful.
Composed.
Breakable.
Aria slowly reached for the zipper of her gown—but before she could pull it down, a wave of dizziness washed over her.
She gripped the edge of the table.
The room spun slightly.
She had felt unwell for days but blamed it on wedding stress.
Her gaze drifted unconsciously toward her abdomen.
Her heart skipped.
Her monthly cycle had been late.
Very late.
Her breath caught.
No.
It couldn't be—
She pressed a trembling hand against her stomach.
What if…
What if she was carrying Lucien Blackwood's child?
The irony was almost cruel.
He had just promised another woman he would divorce her.
And she might be carrying his heir.
A hollow laugh escaped her lips.
Fate had a twisted sense of humor.
She moved toward the bed and sat down slowly, her mind racing.
If she was pregnant…
Then everything changed.
Lucien valued power above all else.
And nothing was more powerful than an heir.
Her fingers curled against the silk sheets.
Would he keep her for the child?
Would he take the baby and discard her?
Or would he demand custody in the name of the Blackwood legacy?
The possibilities suffocated her.
Tears finally fell freely.
But this time, they weren't weak.
They burned.
Because she understood something clearly now.
Lucien Blackwood had married her for shares.
But if she was pregnant—
He had unknowingly given her something far more valuable.
An heir to his empire.
And Aria Sterling was no longer the naive bride who believed in fairytales.
If he wanted a business marriage—
She would give him a business war.
She lifted her chin slowly, staring at her reflection through tear-blurred vision.
"You think I mean nothing to you?" she whispered.
A faint, determined smile touched her lips.
"Let's see how long you can say that."
Outside, the city lights shimmered like distant stars.
Inside the Blackwood mansion, a silent storm had begun.
And by the time it ended—
Either love would rise from the ashes.
Or an empire would fall.