"Smile."
His voice was low… calm… dangerous.
I froze.
The photographer adjusted his camera, clearly unaware of the storm raging inside me. Guests filled the grand hall, laughing, chatting, celebrating a wedding that felt more like a transaction.
"Did you hear me?" he murmured beside my ear.
My fingers tightened around the bouquet. Slowly, I forced a smile onto my lips.
"Good," Alexander said, his arm tightening around my waist possessively. "You learn fast."
Learn?
Like I was some kind of object.
The camera flashed.
"Closer," the photographer instructed.
Alexander didn't hesitate. He pulled me against his chest, his grip firm, unyielding. My heart slammed wildly as his scent—expensive, intoxicating—filled my senses.
"Perfect," the photographer said.
Perfect?
Nothing about this was perfect.
"Now, kiss the bride."
My breath caught.
"No…" I whispered, panic rising in my chest.
But Alexander only smirked.
"Don't make a scene," he said quietly, his eyes darkening. "Or do you want everyone to know this marriage is a lie?"
My stomach dropped.
Before I could react, his hand tilted my chin up.
And then—
His lips crashed onto mine.
Cold.
Demanding.
Possessive.
It wasn't a kiss.
It was a warning.
The crowd erupted into applause, but all I could feel was the way my body refused to move… the way my heart betrayed me by racing faster.
When he finally pulled away, I could barely breathe.
"Good girl," he whispered.
I clenched my fists.
"I'm not yours," I said under my breath.
For a second, something dangerous flickered in his eyes.
Then he leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear.
"You were the moment your father signed the papers."
My blood ran cold.
"What papers?" I asked, my voice shaking.
He straightened, adjusting his suit like nothing happened.
"A contract," he said simply.
My heart skipped.
"A contract?" I repeated.
"Yes," he replied, his gaze locking onto mine. "You're mine for one year."
One year?
"That's insane," I snapped quietly. "I'm not doing this."
His expression didn't change.
"You don't have a choice."
Anger burned through me. "Watch me."
I turned, ready to walk away—
But his hand shot out, gripping my wrist tightly.
"Try it," he said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "And your family loses everything."
I stopped.
Tears filled my eyes.
"You're a monster," I whispered.
He didn't deny it.
Instead, he leaned closer one last time and said something that shattered what little hope I had left.
"Monsters don't fall in love."
And somehow…
That hurt more than anything else.