Chapter 2

The sound of knocking on the door from outside felt like a hammer hitting my consciousness. Vivian was still there, separated by a thick teak door, while inside this room, my world had just collapsed and been rebuilt by Davian's hands, which were still playing with my penis.

"Vivian, I'll be out in a minute! Go to the hall first, I'm tidying up my suit!" I shouted in a voice I forced to remain steady, even though my breath was still racing from the pleasure Davian had given my penis.

I looked down at Davian, who was still kneeling in front of me. There was no regret in his eyes. 

The man actually flashed a victorious smile as he finished his action, letting my sperm release become the dirtiest secret on this holy day.  

 He licked his lips, as if tasting both my victory and my defeat. His gaze seemed to say that from this moment on, I was his.

"Enough, Davian! Stop!" I hissed as I smoothed my clothes with trembling hands. "I have to get out. I'm going to marry your sister!"

Davian stood up, brushing imaginary dust off his pants with an annoyingly elegant gesture. He looked me up and down, as if assessing the spoils he had just enjoyed.

"All right, Dewangga. Go. Have a nice new life full of pretense," he said casually with a laugh.

He stepped back, giving me room to breathe. "Take a shower. Put on your new suit. Don't let Vivian smell the scent of betrayal on your skin."

Without a word, I immediately entered the small bathroom in the corner of the room. Under the cold water, I tried to wash away the guilt that clung to me, but Davian's touch seemed to have left a permanent mark on my skin. 

I came out, put on a clean spare suit, and walked past Davian without daring to look him in the eye. 

The man was just leaning against the wall, whistling softly as if he had just enjoyed a pleasant hobby.

The crystal chandeliers in the main hall sparkled, dazzling my burning eyes. In front of the priest, I stood side by side with Vivian. 

She looked very beautiful, dressed in a long white gown with a transparent veil covering her radiant face. 

However, every time I looked at the row of family seats, my eyes accidentally caught sight of Davian.

 He sat in the front row, his legs crossed, staring at me with a playful gleam that only the two of us understood.

"I, Dewangga, take you, Vivian, as my wife..."

The words rolled off my tongue like a machine reciting a memorized script. I made a sacred promise to be faithful, while my memory replayed the events in the dressing room earlier.

 When the priest declared us husband and wife, the guests' cheers felt deafening. I kissed Vivian's forehead, but all I felt was an empty void.

Night fell. The lavish party ended, leaving us alone in the bridal chamber filled with red rose petals. The scent of jasmine aromatherapy filled the room, creating what should have been a romantic atmosphere for the newlyweds.  

Vivian approached me, removing her hair accessories one by one. She looked at me through the dressing mirror with a gaze full of desire. "Dewangga... finally, it's just the two of us," she whispered softly. She walked towards me, wrapping her arms around my neck. 

"Tonight is our first night. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

She started kissing my neck, trying to ignite the fire that should have been there. However, my body felt like a block of ice. 

Unfortunately, my lower body did not respond at all. There was no passion, no vibration. Vivian's touch felt foreign, even disturbing.

The Fantasy That Saved Me

Vivian tried to touch my chest, her hand slowly moving down towards my pants. 

Reflexively, I grabbed her hand and gently pushed it away. I could see a flash of disappointment in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I... I just need a little time to adjust. Maybe we need to warm up first?" I lied, trying to cover up my panic because my body felt numb.

Vivian smiled understandingly. She turned off the main light, leaving only the dim yellow glow of the bedside lamp.  

She began to stimulate me with touches she had learned from books, trying to awaken my masculinity.  

I closed my eyes tightly, concentrating with all my might, but the image of Vivian did not help me at all.

In the darkness, a crazy idea crossed my mind. An idea that destroyed my morality but was the only way out.

I began to imagine that the hand touching me was not Vivian's soft hand, but Davian's rough, tattooed hand.

I imagined the sharp smell of tobacco, not the scent of jasmine. I visualized Davian's muscular body on top of me, his hoarse voice calling my name in an exciting, mocking tone.

Instantly, my blood rushed. My heart beat fast in rhythm with my fantasy. In my mind, I was not with Vivian; I was back in that locker room, locked in with the man I most avoided and yet desired.

The effect was instant. My body reacted violently.

"Dewangga... you're finally ready," Vivian murmured in a spoiled voice as she felt my change.

I immediately turned the tables, roughly pinning Vivian's body down—a ferocity that was not actually directed at her.

 I kissed her greedily, but behind my closed eyelids, the face I saw was Davian's. The hair I grabbed was that man's short hair.

"Dewangga, you're so powerful!" Vivian moaned, surprised and delighted by the intensity I gave her. 

She didn't know that my every touch was an outlet for my forbidden obsession with her brother.

I kept moving, sinking deeper and deeper into my hallucination. The sound of Vivian's breath in my ear turned into Davian's voice in my imagination. 

I lost control between reality and fantasy. At the peak of that emotional and physical struggle, a name almost slipped from my lips.

"Dav... honey... please harder..." my heart screamed, while my body continued to perform the charade on her stepbrother's body.

That night, on the wedding bed that was supposed to mark the beginning of my new life with Vivian, I instead sank deeper into the black hole dug by Davian.  

I possessed him in my mind, while I gave my body to his sister. A double betrayal that had just begun.