chapter 2

ACROSS THE RED ROSE GARDEN

:WEDDING DAY

I walked across the garden, a bittersweet smile lingering on my lips. My dad had proposed to my mother at this exact spot. Back then, the roses grew wild, their vibrant red petals blossoming under the warmth of a spring day. The garden had always been one of my favourite places growing up. It was where my parents' love story had begun, and where my mother had taught Catalina and me that love was supposed to be beautiful, free, and everlasting.

Today, the pristine lace of my white wedding dress brushed against the earth, but my thoughts were far from romantic. The reality of marrying a man I did not love pricked at my mind like a thorn driven deep into my flesh.

Alessandro Hawthorne. Even thinking his name made something uncomfortable twist inside my stomach.

"Miss Arabella, everyone is waiting for you."

I turned around, forcing a fragile smile. Our family butler stood there, a deeply sympathetic, mourning look in his eyes. He had served my family for years, and I had never seen him look at me that way before. Almost as though he were saying goodbye.

"I'll be there shortly," I replied softly.

He nodded, giving me one last sorrowful glance before walking away.

Left alone with my thoughts, I turned my back on the memory of my parents' pure love and started walking toward the altar. The quiet ceremonial hall felt suffocating as the priest's voice echoed off the cold stone walls. Every seat was occupied by people dressed in expensive suits and elegant gowns.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Alessandro Hawthorne and Arabella Montaña. Marriage is a covenant of honour, of protection, and of choosing one another even in darkness. It is two people vowing to be home for each other, to bleed and to heal together."

My fingers tightened around the bouquet in my hands.

Home. The word almost made me laugh.

The priest turned to my right. "Do you, Alessandro Hawthorne, take Arabella Montaña as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in joy and in sorrow, in sickness and in health? To keep yourself only to her at all times, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." Alessandro's deep voice rang through the room, sending a shiver down my spine. His voice was calm.

As though this marriage meant nothing more to him than another obligation he had been forced to fulfil.

The priest then turned to me. "And do you, Miss..."

"I do," I interrupted, wanting to get this waking nightmare over with as fast as possible. A few people shifted in their seats, but I didn't care. I couldn't stand another second beneath everyone's watchful eyes.

"Then I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Alessandro leaned in, his sharp profile cutting off the light. For one brief second, I found myself staring into his cold blue eyes. There was nothing there. Nothing at all.

His lips briefly brushed mine in a cold, detached peck. The moment his lips left mine, a desperate urge to scrub my skin clean flared deep within me, but I forced my posture to remain perfectly still.

We turned to face the crowd. The guests cheered, their applause filling the ceremonial hall. But on the other side of the aisle, my family was quietly weeping. My mother's eyes were red. My father's face was rigid, his jaw clenched as though he were struggling to hold himself together.

Why is he upset? Didn't he set this up? He won, didn't he? I'm marrying into the Hawthornes just as he wanted.

Alessandro took my hand, and we walked down the aisle.

Guest after guest shook my hand while a fake, practiced smile remained pasted on my face. "Congratulations, Mrs Hawthorne."

No one should see, No one should see through the act, Absolutely no one. Those words repeated like a frantic mantra in my mind. By the time the reception ended, the wedding had concluded without any public drama. I felt exhausted, Restless. Suffocated by the crowd. I found myself back in the rose garden, a bottle of expensive white wine gripped tightly in my hand as I tried to drink my sorrows away.

"Arabella." My mother's voice called out softly from behind me.

I didn't turn around. "Mom, do you remember when we were kids?" I asked, staring blankly ahead into the darkening sky. "You told us the story of Dad's grand proposal, you sounded so completely in love. It made me dream of having love just like yours."

I let out a sharp, hollow laugh that tasted like tears. "And look at me now." My fingers tightened around the bottle.

"Here I am, married to a man who despises the very ground I walk on. A man who is..."

I tilted the bottle back and took another long, burning sip directly from the wine. The liquid burned my throat, but I didn't care. Behind me, I could hear my mother quietly crying into her hands. I was too afraid to turn around and face her. I knew that if I did, I would see my own tragic fate reflected in her eyes. It was written in stone. I was bonded to a man who did not value my existence, and there was nothing I could do to change it. Eventually she left without saying what she wanted to say to me.

The ride to the Hawthorne Estate was entirely silent. Alessandro wasn't even in the limousine with me; he claimed he had urgent business to handle. I knew the truth, though. He simply couldn't stand the thought of sharing a car with me. When the limousine finally pulled into the grand, imposing driveway of the Hawthorne mansion, a line of maids was already waiting outside in the cool night air. The guards opened my door, and I slid out of the backseat. The moment my heels touched the gravel, every single staff member bowed in perfect unison.

"Mrs Hawthorne, we welcome you," they chanted in chilling synchronization.

I forced another exhausted, fake smile onto my face, giving a small, polite nod in return. One of the head maids stepped forward and quietly escorted me through the massive, echoing marble halls. The house was enormous, beautiful and impossibly expensive, yet there was something cold about it. Something that made me feel like I didn't belong.

When we reached my room, the maid opened the double doors and stepped aside. "Mr Hawthorne said to make yourself at home, ma'am."

"Thank you," I said softly.

She nodded and shut the door behind her, leaving me completely alone. I looked around the room. It was vast, but completely devoid of warmth. Everything in the room screamed of obscene wealth, but it completely lacked a soul. In the center stood a king-sized bed, the sheets looked cold, and utterly uninviting. To the left, a massive walk-in closet stood open, already filled with rows of expensive designer dresses, shoes, and diamonds, all meticulously curated for my new role as the don's bride. Yet I didn't choose them.

Hours went by. I eventually stripped out of the heavy wedding dress and slipped into a silk robe, pacing the cold floors until the clock in the hall struck 2:00 AM.

Just as the final chime faded, the bedroom door unlocked and Alessandro stepped inside. His black tuxedo jacket was gone, his white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his sleeves were rolled up to his forearms.

But it wasn't his disheveled appearance that made the air freeze in my throat. It was the dark, unmistakable smear of fresh blood staining his white cuffs. My eyes immediately dropped to his hands. Then slowly lifted to his face. His expression was unreadable. Cold. Detached. He held my gaze for a few seconds then closed the door behind him.

"You're still awake," he murmured, his voice dangerously low as he closed the distance between us "Good. Because now… our marriage officially begins.”