CHAPTER 2

The faint hum of a ceiling fan could be heard as soft sunlight streamed through the floral curtains. Heira woke up, squinting at the brightness in the room, her head throbbing from the wine she had consumed the previous night. It took her a moment to remember where she was.

This wasn’t her room.

She sat up slowly, trying to remember what had happened. The last thing she remembered was Bethy supporting her balance as they walked out of the bar.

The smell of fresh espresso lingered in the room, and her stomach gave a weak growl. She got out of the bedroom, still in the dress she wore last night, which smelled of wine.

She found Bethy in the kitchen, pouring two cups of coffee. Bethy looked like she had been up for a while. Her white blouse tucked into soft jeans, her hair brushed back neatly into a ponytail, and her cologne smelled fresh with a warm hint of vanilla.

“You’re awake,” Bethy said gently, sliding a steaming mug across the counter. “You look like you wrestled in your sleep.”

Heira gave a weak laugh, wrapping her hands around the mug for warmth. “Feels like I lost, too.”

Bethy had brought Heira to her apartment after she passed out in the cab the previous night. She couldn’t risk taking her home where her father might see her drunk and heartbroken. Charles Arven would not have been understanding, and the last thing Heira needed was more conflict.

Before Bethy could respond, Heira’s phone buzzed on the table. She stared at the screen and froze at the dozens of missed calls and messages she had received from her father.

Where are you?

Heira, this isn’t the time for games.

If you’ve run off to avoid this marriage, you’ll regret it.

Her throat tightened. She had forgotten about the registry office, but Charles, on the other hand, thought she’d eloped. She lifted her gaze to the clock on the wall. It was 9:12 a.m. already.

Bethy leaned over, skimming the notifications. “He thinks you ran.”

Heira’s chest heaved with a bitter laugh. “Maybe I should have.” She sipped the coffee, its bitter taste doing little to settle her racing mind.

“But I didn’t. And if I don’t show up, I’m scared of what my father might do.” 

Bethy reached out and squeezed her hand. “Then show up on your terms. Not his.”

Heira remembered the decision she made in her drunken state and planned to follow up on it. She didn’t need any more time to deliberate.

The registry wasn’t far, but time was slipping away, so she quickly got dressed and left.

She clutched the steering wheels as the registry office emerged. The moment she entered, she saw a man standing near the entrance. He looked smartly dressed in a tailored navy suit that fit like it had been made for him alone. He was tall and composed, giving off an aura of brilliance.

His gaze lifted as she walked closer, locking with hers. His eyes flickered from her face to the nervous way she clutched her bag.

“Heira Arven?”

“Yes.” she nodded.

For a while, he simply studied her, and the silence stretched until her nerves felt like they might snap. Then, eventually, he let out a small grin.

“I was told you might not show,” he said evenly. “Your father seemed… worried.”

Despite her chest trembling, she straightened her shoulders. “Well, I’m here now.”

Heira was aware that a few young women who were coming out of the registry room newly wedded, were casting glances at him.

It was normal to find a man attractive, but he wasn’t an exception in any way. His cool features made him look more elegant and stunning. He broad-shouldered, and with eyes of the colour of a warm amber.

The weight of the moment pressed down on her as the registry doors opened. And with that, Dante stretched out his hand, gesturing to the open doors. “Shall we?”

The registrar shuffled the stack of documents, adjusting his glasses as they both took their seat. “You’ll each read and sign here… and here,” he said in a steady voice, pushing the papers forward.

Heira’s hand trembled slightly as she picked up the pen to sign.

Dante leaned toward her as he observed, his words came out low so only she could hear. “You don’t want to be here.”

“You don’t either,” she mumbled, refusing to look at him directly.

She noticed the tiniest smirk formed on his lips. “True, but at least one of us has something to gain.”

Her eyes lifted up quickly startled by his bluntness. “And what do you gain from marrying a stranger forced into this?”

His gaze lingered on her for a while before he answered softly, “Not everything is about love, Heira. Sometimes, it’s about power and keeping it, and that is what your father has been trying to make you understand.”

The registrar cleared his throat, oblivious to the undertone between them. “Please, Miss Arven, sign here.”

Heira swallowed hard as she signed the paper, and Dante didn’t hesitate to do the same.

The registrar gathered the documents and stamped them with a loud thud.

Five minutes later, the certificates were issued. “Congratulations. The marriage is now official.”

Without hesitation, Dante turned and faced her. “Here’s my card key. You can move into the house when you’re ready. I have something to attend to, so I will be leaving now,” he placed it in her hands and left without waiting for her response.

Heira took a taxi directly to the Arven family’s house. At that time, Charles Arven had already gone to work.

She went into her room to pack her belongings. Not long enough did she hear a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called out.

Eliana, their housekeeper, slightly opened the room door, poking her head in, “I figured you might need some help”.

“Yes, please,” she answered affirmingly.

Eliana has been a mother figure to Heira. She has raised her since she was little. Her loyalty has helped her build trust with the family, and they have given her the responsibility to take charge of the house.

They packed up her suitcases and dropped them in the car.

Just when she was about to leave. Eliana held her hands, lifted her gaze to her, and smiled, “I pray your new home will be good to you,” she said, fighting back tears.

Her voice carried grief, gratitude, and love all at once. This is the farthest Heira would ever be from home, except when she traveled for studies, and she was surely going to miss her.

***

Heira took a deep breath as she arrived at the Moretti villa. She used the card key Dante gave her earlier that day to gain access into the building.

A woman dressed in a blue uniform with an apron welcomed her as she made her way inside. The woman looked like she was in her mid-forties, her expression softened when her eyes landed on Heira.

“You must be Mrs. Moretti,” she said warmly. “Welcome. I’m Mrs. Collins, the housekeeper.”

The title felt new to her. And the realisation that she had just gotten married became crystal clear.

She was greeted respectfully by two other household staff that came behind Mrs. Collins.

Heira gave a small nod, replying as politely as she could. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

Mrs. Collins’s smile grew kind. “Mr. Moretti made mention of your arrival. Please come with me so I can show you to your room.”

The sound of that didn’t settle well with Heira, she had expected to share a room with Dante, just as most couples do.

“Our room, you mean,” she corrected softly. Mrs. Collins smiled, avoiding the answer to the question as she reached for Heira’s suitcase.