CHAPTER FIVE: Bound by Silence

She told herself it was just a contract, but her hands were shaking like it was love.

Adele stood still, almost like the world around her was holding in a breath, waiting for the big exhale.

Or maybe it was just her–laced into a corset so tight she couldn't even pretend to exhale.

She told Ronnie that she wanted to be snatched, not on the brink of turning purple.

Adele clutched her bouquet tighter and stared glassy-eyed into the full-length mirror wheeled into the big living room.

The woman in white stared back—elegant, composed, and nothing like her.

The off-shoulder satin gown clung to her like a second skin—elegant, poised, untouchable. Lace sleeves kissed her arms, soft and deceiving, while the train pooled around her feet like a secret she couldn’t outrun.

She looked like a bride. But she felt like a lie.

Her makeup was flawless. It highlighted her cheekbones. Her veil and ball gown gave her an ethereal princess-like look. Her bouquet was a quiet rebellion—white calla lilies for grace she never asked for, blood-red ranunculus for love she never expected, and eucalyptus for the kind of strength no vow could promise.

It wasn’t the flowers that made her look like a bride—it was the way she held them, like armor.

She didn't have a choice.

I'm doing this for mom.

…even if mom would have never wanted me to.

Her mother would have wanted her to run off into the sunset with a man who loved her just as much as she loved him, but life is always a harsher reality.

She was used to it by now.

The terms of the agreement were very clear.

No form of physical intimacy whatsoever.

No cohabitation. Adele didn't know if that was a relief or an insult.

Public appearances were a priority and must be treated as such.

No details of their marriage will be disclosed to the public. They were married. End of story. Or so the world would be told.

She was grateful for the strict terms, but still felt a pang of hurt when they were read out to her in the dark secrecy of Julian's lawyer's office.

It's just a contract, nothing more.

Julian’s voice had been cold when he said that. But something in his eyes—something flickering behind the ice made her wonder if he was lying to both of them.

Ronnie stood beside Adele in a flowing steel blue chiffon gown that caught the light with every movement. The off-shoulder sleeves framed her strong shoulders, and the soft pleats of the dress gave it an effortless elegance. It was the perfect balance — simple enough not to outshine Adele, yet striking enough to show she was more than just a bridesmaid.

Their eyes met in the mirror, and Adele's mind traveled back to the fight they had on the couch the day she broke the engagement news to her.

Ronnie had told her that Julian couldn't be trusted, and now she was marrying the enemy.

“If there's a time to change your mind, it's now. Don't do anything that will derail your life…”

But Nathan had her back. He was one of the people who made this decision-making easier.

“If you ever need anything, we'll be right here rooting for you”

Ronnie always had her best interest at heart, so Adele wondered why she couldn't just be supported. They had a huge argument and she stayed with Nathan that night.

The blogs were relentless. But Adele had learned to shut it all out. They didn't understand. They never will.

Ronnie had come around. Grudgingly, but it was a work in progress. She was there as her best friend, with a getaway car ready in case Adele wanted to bolt.

But it was too late. She had signed the agreement already. Her mother's bills had been undertaken by Julian discreetly to reduce the risk of being discovered.

She felt fear creep up her spine.

Adele wasn't sure what scared her more- the fact that she didn't love Julian, or that part of her still wanted to.

******

JULIAN'S POV

“You are a crazy man for thinking this could work.”

If I had a pound for every time my father said that to me, I'd have bought Microsoft.

Necktie in hand, I turn around and face my father.

Lord Alistair Hawthorne.

I used to worship this man, back when he was still a myth, when he'd send birthday gifts and cards in exchange for his presence. Back when he still had his humanity intact. Back when he still had my mother.

17 years later, and my love for his has been reduced to mere business affiliation.

He watched me now, with disdain and judgement in his eyes.

He thought I was making a bad decision—‘Dragging another streetcat into the house‘, if I'm quoting him correctly.

My father had a hard life, and it showed in the way he walked and talked and quickly formed opinions about people based on first impressions.

His trust issues ran deep and it was one of the reasons Mom left.

Or so he said. The memories I have of her are hazy, but I remember her crying in my room most of the time.

I push all this to the back of my mind and face my scornful father. The man who built me and knew how to break me.

He was dressed in a wine tailored suit and a white collared shirt ironed to a crisp. His salt and pepper hair was cut tightly around his scalp, and he leaned on the gold cane in his right hand gingerly. He didn't need it. He just loved the idea of a cane in his old age.

He threw it at me once. I subconsciously reach up and touch the jagged scar above my left eyebrow.

“Dad…can we not do this today?”

“If anything, today is the best day to do it. I don't want you making any more silly mistakes.”

“ I love her, dad. It's not a mistake.” I lied, and hated how easily the words came out of my mouth.

He laughed bitterly.

“Then how come I'm only just hearing about her?”

Because you've never cared enough to know so much about me, genius.

I bit my lip and looked down at my hands. They shook slightly and I clasped them together, then turned my back on him and faced the mirror.

I felt his disapproval crawl up my back like static. I put on my tie and cufflinks.

“You of all people should know that love is a sham. A fairytale gobbled up by the desperate. Take me for example. I did everything for your mother. I sacrificed everything. But that ungrateful harlot left me. She left us. In spite of everything.”

I don't want to hear this. At least not today.

“Dad please—”

“You want to get married and live happily ever after? Be my guest. Just don't ruin my legacy with your plaything. I worked too hard to throw it away on some…waitress!”

He stormed out, his cane clanking against the marble floor.

I wondered if I made the right decision by not telling him about the contract, but it was better than way. I can't have him poking his nose in my business all the time.

Things are best as they are.

I'm getting married.

If only those words didn't sound so bitter.

*****

“... I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride”

Julian shrunk visibly and shot a sour look at the priest. He had given specific instructions to leave the kissing part out.

Adele stared at him doe eyed. Her full lips formed a pout.

The feeling was mutual. He got the message.

She didn't want to kiss him either.

He felt relieved, but a dull ache started in his chest.

It was a private wedding. Invitation only. The decorations were sparse and the guests few.

His father sat in the front row, tapping his feet with his index finger impatiently.

Elliot stood behind him, a solid rock in a red tuxedo.

A few business partners and Adele's friends were present, but everything was blurry. He couldn't wait to get this over with.

It was all too much. Too painful.

He remembered his first wedding. How excited he was. How in love. In a way his father was right. Love only causes you pain.

And he'd be damned if he let it get him twice.

They walked down the aisle, hand in hand, smiling at the guests, when out of the corner of his eye he spotted reporters perched by the side doors.

Great. More media.

He hated the press and everything they stood for.

Adele's palm felt sweaty in his, and he squeezed it softly.

She looked so beautiful, even with her tight set jaw and uncomfortable smile, and he wanted to reach down and stroke her hair.

What am I even thinking?

He let go of her hand like it burned him, but immediately missed the heat. She looked up at him for a second, then looked away.

Just a few more hours, and this will all be over.

If only he knew…the contract was just the beginning.

*****

ADELE'S POV

It all felt so unnatural.

The handshakes and warm congratulations ran off me like butter.

I didn't even know half the people at the reception.

My only family was Ronnie and Nathan, and they stuck to my side like glue, up until Nathan had to leave to handle some business, and Ronnie was touching up her makeup somewhere.

Julian was nowhere to be found. That gave me just enough breathing space but left me feeling naked.

They're not here for me. This is Julian's world.

I head off to find Ronnie, but a figure blocks my way. His cologne pushes me back and the air around him feels stiff.

I look up at his face. Alistair Hawthorne. Julian's father.

I had been avoiding him all evening, but it looks like he had other plans.

His mouth twists into a grin and I get chills.

“MRS Hawthorne. It feels good, doesn't it?”

I don't know what he's talking about, so I say nothing. My eyes darted around me desperately, searching for Ronnie, or anybody who could save me from this man.

“I mean no harm. I just want to get to know the woman who has captured my son's heart…and bank account.” he raised an eyebrow.

Julian told me that his father was a character, but he didn't label him as borderline idiotic.

I forced a small smile and mock curtsied.

“It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Alexa.”

“Alistair!” He slapped his cane on the ground with renewed urgency.

“Oh pardon me. You remind me of a girlfriend of mine. Sassy and condescending.”

I was pushing my luck, but with three glasses of fizzy champagne in my belly, I was feeling untouchable.

“Listen here, you heifer.” He said, voice low and venomous. His face was a bright red and he looked like a ticking bomb.

“Everybody in here knows their place. I don't know what my son told you about me, but I am not to be trifled with.”

Ooooh I'm so scared.

“You can traipse around here like a queen, but keep in mind that there was another before you, and she's not here anymore. Know your place. And also know this. This is still my show.”

Wow…what a killjoy.

“Congratulations, MRS. Hawthorne. And good luck. You'll be needing it.”

And with that, he clattered away.

You're playing with fire, Adele. Just like you always do…

I closed my eyes and struggled to keep the voice locked in.

“There's my bride! I was wondering where you ran off to.”

I felt strong hands around my waist, turning me to face him.

In spite of myself, I could feel a warmth spreading through my body. Or maybe it's just the alcohol.

“What have you been up to ?”

I stared into his eyes, wondering if I should stay frozen or just smile and play along.

He narrowed his eyes, still wearing a smile, and brought his lips to my ears. His breathing was ragged and I could feel his nervous energy bleeding into mine.

“People are watching us, Ads. Don't freeze up on me.”

“Yeah I didn't really get the memo with you not wanting to kiss me at the altar.”

“ Don't ask questions. Just do as I say. This is my show, remember?”

I chuckled and wrapped my fingers around the small of his back.

“Your father seems to have a different opinion “

I felt him stiffen.

“I see you've met Lord Alistair.” His voice sounded bitter.

His grip on my waist was loosening. I pulled him in closer and rested my head on his chest. His heart thudded rapidly against my ear.

I traced my pinkie finger up the small of his back and he released a small gasp.

I couldn't get to touch him behind closed doors, so I was going to take every opportunity.

I tilted my head up and looked into his eyes.

His hard eyes stared back, but in them was a look of longing. His eyelashes fluttered as I rose on my tippy toes, brushing my lips against his.

He froze up, giving me all the confidence I needed to seize his lips.

He kissed me back, almost hungrily and sparks exploded behind my eyes. I felt lightheaded and my knees went weak as I leaned against him.

His strong hands kept me in place, a wicked smile tugging at his lips as he dominated me.

What are you doing, Adele!! He's not good for you. Snap out of it! This is just a contract!

But I was past thinking. He nibbled on my lower lip and I let out a small gasp.

As quickly as it started, it was over.

Clapping sounds.

No. Just one.

Loud and drawn out.

Julian looked over my head and pulled back immediately, dread and anger filling his eyes.

The hairs on my neck stood on end as I turn around to face the sound.

Golden blonde hair, hypnotic green eyes, blood red lips twisted into an amused grin and a perfect facial symmetry.

Celeste.

And from the way Julian looked at her, Adele knew—this was the kind of woman men never stopped loving.