CHAPTER 3

KIMANI

After Alaric left, I sat frozen, staring at the door he had disappeared through. My mind spun like a broken record, replaying his words, his eyes, the finality of what had just happened. Married. To him. My wedding day turned into… this.

I pressed my palms against the silky fabric of my dress, grounding myself, though my heart still raced. I didn’t know what to do, what to think, or even how to feel. A mix of betrayal, confusion, and disbelief settled in my chest like a heavy stone.

A soft knock came at the door, polite, careful, almost as if whoever was outside knew I was standing at the edge of breaking.

“Come in,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected.

The door creaked open and a maid slipped inside. She carried a familiar travel bag, one I had used countless times when visiting my father. She set it gently on the couch and gave a slight bow before leaving without a word.

I blinked at the bag. Did Alaric ask someone to collect it from my dad? That is quite thoughtful of him.

I unzipped the bag. Inside were neatly folded clothes, toiletries, and at the very top, my cell phone. I grabbed it like a lifeline, holding it to my chest for a moment before powering it on.

My group chat with Malik, Zendaya and Denise was blowing up. Even though it was just the three of them sending messages, it was so much.

I opened the message box with my dad first.

K - Hi, dad.

P(Papa) - Princess, how are you?

K - I'm breathing.

P - Sweetheart, I'm sorry about Jason.

K - Me too. I'm glad the truth came out before I went all the way.

P - How are you doing right now? With Mr Walker

K - Okay. He just showed me to my room and left me alone.

P - Princess, are you sure you haven't spoken to him before today?

K - No, papa. I'm just as shocked as you are.

P - Let me leave you to freshen up and relax. Talk later.

K - Okay, papa.

After my dad, I finally opened the group chat. My screen lit up with what felt like a hundred messages, each one typed with the urgency only my best friends could bring.

Malik: Babyyy, what the actual hell just happened?!

Zendaya: Kimani, don’t play with us. Did you KNOW Alaric Walker before today?

Denise: Girl, blink twice if you’re being held against your will. I’ll bring my cousins.

I snorted despite myself. My heart was still a mess, but leave it to them to pull out the drama.

K: No, I swear. Today was literally the first time I’ve spoken to him.

Malik: You expect us to believe you got snatched up at the altar like some N*****x special and you didn’t know him before?

Zendaya: Exactly. Why would the billionaire bachelor suddenly decide marriage was the move, today of all days?

Denise: Hold up. Is this a marriage or like… a temporary hostage arrangement?

I laughed out loud, the sound startling in the quiet room. A little weight lifted off my chest, even if it was only for a moment.

K: Guys, relax. I’m okay. Shocked, confused, borderline dizzy, but okay.

Malik: “Okay”? Kimani, you literally just married a man you met THIS MORNING.

Zendaya: Bestie, no offense but… what if he’s a vampire? This has romance novel energy.

Denise: No, vampire would be cute. This has more… mafia vibes. Like, “marry me or else.”

I pressed a hand to my mouth to muffle the giggle that escaped. “You guys are insane,” I whispered.

K: I promise, he didn’t force me. He was calm, polite even. He showed me to this huge fancy room and left me alone.

Malik: Polite kidnappers exist, babe.

Zendaya: We just want to know the WHY. Why you? Why now?

Denise: Also, he’s hot. I think our suffering is worth it.

I hesitated, cheeks warming as my mind flashed to Alaric’s dark eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, the effortless command in the way he spoke. He was… a lot.

K: He’s… decent.

Malik: Girl. DECENT?! That man is on magazine covers. He looks like trouble dipped in chocolate.

Zendaya: Agreed.

Denise: Great. Then the only problem left is you not knowing why your brand-new husband picked you out of billions of women.

I sighed, typing slowly.

K: I don’t know why, but I’ll figure it out. Right now, I just need to breathe.

Malik: Fine. But keep us updated every five minutes.

Zendaya: We love you, pookie.

Denise: And if he breaks your heart, I’m keying his car. Or you can get his credit card and we will max it out.

Their banter drew another laugh from me, a real one this time. My world had turned upside down in the span of a day, but at least some things like my friends’ madness remained the same.

I dropped my phone on the bed and leaned back against the headboard. For the first time since Alaric had walked out, I felt like maybe I could actually breathe.

I stood up and began to take off the wedding dress. Then

I slipped into one of the soft silk robes I found neatly folded at the edge of the bed, definitely not mine. The fabric glided over my skin, cool and impossibly smooth, like something out of a boutique I couldn’t even afford to step into. The robe smelled faintly of lavender and something crisp, expensive.

Freshening up helped, but when I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I almost laughed. My hair was pinned half in, half out, mascara shadows smudged under my eyes, my lips bare. This wasn’t the picture of a newlywed bride. It was the picture of a girl who’d been tossed into a storm she never asked for. I walked into the shower and cleaned up, finally clean I walked back to the room.

A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts. Before I could respond, the door opened, and two maids wheeled in a gleaming silver trolley. My eyes widened. There were trays upon trays of food - grilled salmon, roasted chicken, bowls of pasta, a fresh salad bursting with color, little plates of delicate desserts. My stomach, which had been too knotted all day to even think of food, growled loudly at the sight.

One of the maids gave a small smile and handed me a folded card. “From Mr. Walker, ma’am,” she said softly before they both curtsied and left as quickly as they had come.

I blinked, staring down at the card. My fingers fumbled with the neat fold before opening it.

The handwriting was sharp, precise, and somehow matched him perfectly:

Tell the staff your preferences and any allergies. You won’t need to eat what doesn’t suit you. – A.

I sat heavily on the bed, the card trembling between my fingers. He had thought of this? Thought about what I would eat, what I wouldn’t, what could hurt me? The man who’d barely spoken ten sentences to me had already considered more than Jason had in years.

Jason.

The thought of him made my chest tighten again. He hadn’t even cared if I’d eaten on our dates. Half the time, I had been the one making sure he was comfortable, fed, satisfied. Yet here was Alaric Walker, cold, unreadable, stranger, sending me a literal buffet and making sure I wouldn’t have to explain myself.

I pressed my lips together, pushing the thought away, but a strange warmth unfurled in my chest.

Pulling the trolley closer, I reached for a fork. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I knew one thing: I was starving.

I sampled a little of everything, the flavors rich and comforting. By the time I set the fork down, I realized how much calmer I felt, understandable, I love eating anyway.

Leaning back against the pillows, I let out a slow breath.

Married. To Alaric Walker.

Stills feels like a funny dream but I know that it's not.