Chapter 02~ The Devil's Bargain

ALVINA

The silence that followed Ethan’s words wasn't peaceful; it was heavy, like the air before a terminal collision.

Then came the sound of the priest’s Bible hitting the floor. The heavy leather-bound book thudded against the marble, a dull, final sound that seemed to signal the death of the ceremony.

Vivienne took a staggering step forward. Her veil, pinned so perfectly only an hour ago, was now lopsided. Her eyes were wide, darting between Ethan’s cold face and my mud-streaked reflection.

“What… what did you just say?” her voice was a thin, breaking thread.

“This young lady is my fiancée,” Ethan repeated. His voice didn't shake. There wasn't a hint of shame in his tone. In fact, he sounded bored, as if he were announcing a change in a board meeting agenda. “And she is carrying my child.”

The oxygen left my lungs. I tried to speak, but my throat felt like it was filled with glass. “Your what?” I finally managed to croak. I shook my head violently, spray from my wet hair hitting the expensive wood of the pew. “What are you talking about? I—I don’t even know you!”

Ethan didn't flinch at my denial. He turned his head slightly, his gray eyes pinning me to the spot. A faint, haunting smile touched his lips—a look that told me he was three steps ahead of me. “Oh, you do, Alvina,” he whispered. He used my name. How did he know my name? “Even if you’re scared, we can’t hide the truth anymore.”

Behind me, the whispers erupted. It sounded like a nest of disturbed hornets.

“Is that her?” “She looks like a beggar.” “Typical Ethan Kael… always a scandal.”

Vivienne’s bouquet shattered against the floor. She stared at Ethan as tears carved black tracks through her perfect makeup. “Ethan, please… tell me this is a joke. Tell me this is some sick test of my loyalty.”

He looked at her then. I expected a flicker of guilt, a wince at the sight of her breaking heart. Instead, his expression was a mask of icy indifference. "Why would I joke in the house of God, Vivienne?"

"You knew!" she screamed, the sound echoing off the high vaulted ceilings. "You knew this would happen! Why did you let me put on this dress? Why did you let me walk down that aisle if there was someone else?"

"Because I thought I could make it work," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "I thought I could choose duty over... this. I was wrong."

It was a masterclass in gaslighting. He was framing his betrayal as a tragic "struggle of the heart," and the congregation was eating it up.

Vivienne collapsed. It wasn't a graceful faint; it was a jagged, ugly fall. Her mother and a swarm of bridesmaids rushed toward her, their silk gowns rustling like dry leaves. I felt a surge of nausea. I wanted to scream that it was a lie, that I was just a girl who had run through the mud to escape a monster, only to find a different one standing at an altar.

But I couldn't move. Because Ethan was walking toward me.

He ignored the wailing bride. He ignored the cameras that guests were surely hiding in their pockets. He stopped right in front of my pew and leaned down. The scent of him—expensive sandalwood and something sharp, like ozone before a storm, wrapped around me.

“Come on, darling,” he said, his voice deceptively tender, loud enough for the nearest pews to hear. “It’s time we go home.”

“Home?” I hissed, pressing my back against the wood until it hurt. “No. I’m not going anywhere with you! You’re insane!”

Vivienne’s voice rose to a shriek from the floor. "You're leaving me for her? For a girl who looks like she crawled out of a gutter? After five years, Ethan? You're trading me for a common tramp?"

Ethan didn't even turn around. He stayed focused on me, his presence suffocatingly large.

“There’s no need to deny it, Alvina,” he said, his eyes boring into mine. “You and I both know the truth.”

“The truth?” I let out a jagged, hysterical laugh. “The truth is I’ve never seen your face before today! Stop framing me for your mess!”

He took a step closer, closing the distance until I could see the flecks of silver in his pupils. He reached out, his hand moving slowly, as if he were going to stroke my cheek. I flinched, but he didn't touch me. He just leaned into my ear.

“You really want to play this game?” his voice was a low, lethal vibration that only I could hear. “Because it’s a simple choice, Alvina. You walk out of here as my fiancée… or you walk out as their prey.”

He didn't look back at the doors, but I did.

The two men in dark suits were still there. One was leaning against the heavy oak frame, picking something out of his teeth, his eyes locked on me with the patience of a vulture. They were waiting for the "sacred" protection of the church to end. They were waiting for me to step back out into the rain.

“How do you—” I started, my voice trembling.

“Your choice, darling,” he interrupted, his expression hardening. He held out his hand, palm up. A silent invitation. A gilded cage. “The devil you know, or the one you don't. Decide. Now.”

I looked at his hand, then I looked at the figures by the door.

Slowly, with a heart that felt like it was breaking under the weight of a thousand lies, I reached out and placed my cold, muddy hand in his.