Chapter 4

Alía was furious. Although she knew she didn't want that marriage, she also understood it was what was best for everyone. Or at least she tried to repeat that to herself over and over again so she wouldn't break into pieces.

But, on the inside, everything was falling apart. She wanted to cry, scream, escape from that life written by others.

Her acting career was at its peak; the media loved her, producers sought her out, and the public adored her.

It was her time. However, the word trophy wife floated like a shadow over her head. She knew Samuel would never ask her to abandon her profession, but she also knew that, by marrying him, the world would see her as something more than an artist: they would see her as "the magnate's wife".

She tried to talk to her parents. She begged, pleaded, cried. Nothing changed. The decision was made, and her voice had no power.

The world was slipping out of her hands.

"Hey, Alía, darling!" the voice of Talía, her manager, snapped her out of her thoughts. "This is the new soap opera you're going to star in. It's about a woman who thinks she lost the love of her life because of her vicious stepsister. An intense story, right up your alley."

Alía just nodded, lost. She held the script in her hands, but her mind drifted far away. She remembered the last time she saw Samuel.

That blue gaze, serene and deep. That smile that seemed to light up any room. And the way he looked at her, as if nothing else existed.

She blushed without realizing it, reliving that instant in which, for the first time, her heart hesitated.

"Alía?" asked Talía, seeing her blush. "Are you feeling okay?"

"No… nothing's wrong. It's just… hot today," replied the young woman, uncomfortable.

Talía raised an eyebrow.

They were outdoors, right in the middle of autumn, at about fifteen degrees Celsius. If that was hot, then hell must have frozen over.

"Baby," she said with a mocking smile, "either you're going crazy… or someone is driving you crazy."

"Can you stop talking nonsense, please?" Alía snorted. "It's unbelievable, now you're talking to me about him too."

Samuel. She couldn't get a single day of peace without hearing that name.

. . .

Meanwhile, in his office, Samuel Anderson couldn't concentrate. The wedding day was approaching and the knot in his stomach was growing. He had faced multimillion-dollar meetings, international negotiations, and ruthless competitors… but nothing had made him as nervous as thinking about seeing Alía dressed in a wedding gown.

A soft knock on the door made him react.

"Come in."

His secretary, Adela, walked in with a firm step and a folder in her hands. She was a woman in her mid-fifties, with a serene air and a kind look. Since her son and daughter-in-law died in an accident, Samuel had offered her a job at his company.

Thanks to her, the office always seemed to be in order, and everyone loved her. She had even spearheaded the creation of a daycare for employees with small children or grandchildren in their care.

"Mr. Anderson, you have a meeting at ten with the Smiths, to discuss the new mall at Gran Plaza. The room is ready," informed Adela.

"Perfect. Thank you, Adela. Let me know when they arrive."

She nodded and left with her typical elegance. Samuel picked up his phone and, without overthinking it, typed:

Hello, dear Alía. I hope you have a good day today.

It was a habit he kept up. Every day, without fail, he sent her a message: a greeting, a reminder to eat, or simply a "good night".

Since he noticed that Alía used to skip meals when studying scripts, it had become his silent way of taking care of her.

This time, to his surprise, the phone buzzed almost immediately.

Thank you, have a good day too, Samuel.

A simple response, but to him it meant the world. Entire months without her saying a kind word to him, and now this. A spark of hope ignited in his chest.

. . .

Hours later, the headlines filled every news portal:

"Today the billionaire Samuel Anderson marries the actress of the moment, Alía Klau."

It was official. There was no turning back.

As much as she wanted to run away, cry, or scream, she could no longer take a step back.

Her fate was sealed.

"Alía, my little one, are you ready?" asked her mother, Mía, coming into the room.

She looked radiant. At 49 years old she retained her usual elegance and energy. Her blonde hair and her perfect smile were the reflection of a woman accustomed to shining.

"Mom…" whispered Alía, "why do I have to do this?"

The question she had been repeating since day one. Didn't she have the right to decide for herself? To fall in love out of love and not convenience?

"Daughter," Mía said tenderly, "you don't understand it now, but soon you'll see that parents don't harm their children. What we do, we do for your own good."

That phrase, so repeated, so empty, made her grit her teeth. For her own good or for theirs?

"You know Samuel, you know he will never disrespect you or hurt you. He's a good man, Alía," her mother insisted.

The young woman just sighed and nodded. She felt a whirlwind in her stomach.

She walked down the stairs on the arm of her father, Anthony Klau. Tall, imposing, with his hair already covered in gray, but with the same firmness as always.

"You look beautiful, daughter," he said in a deep and sweet voice.

"Thank you, father. I know you're doing it for my own good," she murmured, although on the inside that phrase hurt.

The ceremony would be on the mansion's terrace. Her mother, a lover of roses, had turned that place into a paradise. Arches covered in flowers, dim lights, a glass altar. Everything was perfect, too perfect.

The guests waited with fake smiles. There were Mía's "viper" friends, Samuel's and her father's partners, some actors and producers, and her best friend, Sofía, who was sending her encouraging looks from the front row.

And then she saw him. Samuel.

The air escaped her lungs. He wore an impeccable black suit, slightly messy hair, and that blue gaze that seemed to read her soul. He was so handsome it hurt.

"A puppy with a body built for sin," she thought to herself, suppressing a smile. If he knew how she had just compared him, he would surely frown.

Her father turned toward Samuel before handing him her hand.

"Take care of her, Anderson. She's my greatest treasure."

"I will guard her with my life, Mr. Klau," Samuel replied with absolute sincerity.

Silence fell as the priest spoke.

"We are gathered here to join this beautiful couple in marriage… Samuel Smith Anderson, do you take Alía Sofía Klau to be your wife, to love and respect her in sickness and in health, in wealth and in poverty, until death do you part?"

"I do," he said without hesitation.

His voice sounded firm, secure, full of conviction.

"Alía Sofía Klau, do you take Samuel Smith Anderson to be your husband, to love and respect him…?"

Alía swallowed hard. Everything stopped. The murmur of the guests faded. Her heart beat with force.

Did she really want this?

Samuel looked at her. That sweet, understanding gaze, as if he knew what was going on inside her. And in that instant, seeing the gleam in his eyes, something changed.

"I do," she whispered.

And the blue of Samuel's eyes shined once again.

"By the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Samuel leaned in slowly. She held her breath. Her hands were sweating. But he didn't go for her lips. He kissed her on the forehead, soft, reverent, as if touching something sacred.

That gesture disarmed her. She felt how her cheeks burned, how her heart raced. And as he smiled at her tenderly, she could only think:

Stupid Samuel Anderson…