Chapter 2

CLARA

"Who the hell are you?"

Gabriel’s deep voice sliced through the heavy silence of the cathedral like a broadsword. It wasn't loud, but it possessed a terrifying, reverberating weight that made the breath catch in my throat.

The silence that followed was absolute. Hundreds of elite guests held their breath, frozen in place.

I stood paralyzed under his storm-grey eyes, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs. Up close, Gabriel Vance was even more intimidating than the rumors suggested. His broad chest rose and fell evenly beneath his pristine charcoal jacket, and despite being confined to the massive leather wheelchair, he projected the aura of a predator waiting to spring.

Behind me, I heard my father swallow hard. Panic radiated off Richard Montgomery in suffocating waves. He hurried forward, his forehead glistening with a thin layer of cold sweat.

"Mr. Vance! Please, allow me to explain!" my father squeaked, his voice cracking with desperation. "This is... this is Evelyn! She merely suffered a small accident at home this morning! She fell down the stairs, you see. That’s why she has that dreadful bruise on her cheek! She was so eager to marry you that she insisted on coming anyway!"

What a pathetic liar.

Gabriel didn't even turn his head toward my father. His piercing gaze remained glued to my face, scanning every detail—the trembling of my lower lip, the dirt smudged on the hem of the oversized dress, the hunger-hollowed contours of my cheeks.

"Do you take me for an idiot, Montgomery?" Gabriel asked quietly. The edge in his tone was sharp enough to draw blood. "I have studied Evelyn Montgomery’s file for months. Her bone structure, her height, her posture. This girl is not Evelyn."

My mother’s sharp intake of breath echoed from the front pew. I could feel her furious, glare digging into my back, silently promising me a slow, painful death if I ruined this deal.

"I... I am Clara," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the hum of the cathedral’s organ, which had abruptly ground to a halt.

"Clara?" Gabriel repeated, tasting the name on his tongue. His dark brows pulled together, a dangerous crease forming between his eyes. "The Montgomery family has only one daughter."

"She’s an illegitimate child!" my mother blurted out, stepping out of her pew, her voice high and panicked. "A distant cousin! An orphan we took in out of the kindness of our hearts, Mr. Vance! Evelyn... Evelyn became gravely ill this morning! High fever! She was hysterical, begging us not to delay the wedding and ruin our partnership. So we brought Clara to stand in as a temporary representative!"

A wave of shocked muttering rippled through the pews.

*"They brought a fake bride?"*

*"Is Richard Montgomery insane? Swindling Gabriel Vance?"*

*"He’s going to execute the entire family right here..."*

I closed my eyes tightly, waiting for the explosive wrath of the crippled billionaire. Everyone knew what happened to people who tried to play Gabriel Vance. He ruined companies overnight. He dragged entire dynasties into bankruptcy. I braced myself for him to call his armed guards, to throw me out into the rain, or worse, to hand me right back to my parents.

Instead, a low, rasping sound echoed from his chest.

Gabriel was laughing.

It was a cold, humorless chuckle that sent a fresh wave of ice down my spine. He leaned forward in his wheelchair, resting his elbows on his armrests, intertwining his long, powerful fingers. The silver rings on his knuckles caught the dim sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows.

"A temporary representative," Gabriel murmured, his eyes glittering with lethal amusement. "You brought a battered, starved substitute to my altar and expected me to sign a multi-billion-dollar debt relief contract for a ghost?"

"Mr. Vance, we can bring Evelyn tomorrow! As soon as her fever breaks!" my father pleaded, taking a step closer, his hands raised in supplication. "Please, don't cancel the contract!"

Gabriel finally looked at my father. The sheer coldness in his eyes made my father instantly freeze in his tracks, taking a fearful step back.

"The wedding is already underway, Richard," Gabriel said smoothly. "The media is outside. The city is watching. If I turn this bride away now, Vance Enterprises stock drops five percent by tomorrow morning because the world will think I was made a fool."

He turned his gaze back to me. His eyes slowly traveled down my body, taking in the loose fit of Evelyn's dress. He noticed the faint red marks on my wrists where my mother had bound me in the cellar, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Tell me, Clara," Gabriel said, his voice dropping into a velvety, dangerous register meant only for me. "Did you know about this trick?"

My hands clenched into fists against the fabric of the heavy wedding dress. I knew what hung in the balance. If I lied and said I was part of the plot, Gabriel might destroy me along with my parents. If I told the truth, my parents would fulfill their promise to make me regret ever being born.

I looked directly into the storm-grey eyes of the tyrant. I had lived in the dark basement for eighteen years. I had been beaten, starved, and discarded. I had nothing left to lose.

"No," I said, my voice steadying despite the terror screaming in my veins. "I didn't know. They locked me in the cellar three days ago. They forced me into this dress an hour ago. My father threatened to inject me with a drug if I didn't walk down this aisle."

A collective gasp swept through the cathedral.

My father’s face turned red with rage. "You ungrateful little bitch!" he roared, lunging toward me with his hand raised. "How dare you lie about your own family—"

CLACK.

The sound of a heavy metallic slide being pulled back echoed sharply through the quiet church.

Before my father’s hand could touch me, a tall man in a dark tactical suit stepped out from behind Gabriel’s wheelchair, leveling a silenced black handgun directly at my father’s forehead.

My father froze instantly, his face draining of all color, his raised hand trembling in the air.

"Step back, Mr. Montgomery," the guard said, his tone as robotic and unfeeling as a machine. "Touch the bride again, and I will paint this altar with your brains."

My mother shrieked, dropping back into her seat. The wedding guests panicked, ducking low in their pews, but no one dared to run. The heavy oak doors of the cathedral were slammed shut by four more armored guards in black uniforms.

Gabriel didn't even glance at the gun. His eyes remained fixed on my face, watching the raw truth in my expression. A strange, unreadable emotion flickered deep within his grey eyes—something dark, intense, and terrifyingly focused.

"You have spirit," Gabriel said softly, a faint, dark smile touching the corner of his lips. "Most people would have lied to protect their necks."

"I am tired of lying," I choked out, a single tear escaping my eye and trailing down the bruised slope of my cheek. "Do whatever you want with me, Mr. Vance. It can't be worse than what they've already done."

Gabriel stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. The tension in the air was so thick it felt like glass ready to shatter.

Then, slowly, Gabriel reached down to the armrest of his wheelchair and picked up a heavy gold fountain pen. He flipped open the leather binder containing the official marriage certificate that sat on the small table next to him.

Without taking his eyes off me, he pressed the pen to the paper and signed his name in bold, jagged strokes.

"Mr. Vance?" the priest squeaked, trembling behind the altar.

Gabriel capped the pen with a sharp click.

"The contract is signed," Gabriel declared, his deep voice booming off the high ceiling. "The debt relief for the Montgomery family is officially revoked. However..."

He reached out, his big, warm hand wrapping around my cold, trembling fingers, pulling me closer to his chair. The heat radiating from his skin sent a violent shockwave straight to my core.

"...the marriage stands. Clara is now Mrs. Vance."