LOGINThey emerged from the shadows just as the romantic ballad reached its crescendo. The guests turned, the chatter dying down into a sea of expectant faces. The cameras flashed, blinding Thalia for a moment.She saw Catherine Ravenhart standing near the edge of the dance floor, a glass of champagne in her hand, her expression one of cold triumph. She had seen them come back from the gate. She knew exactly what had happened.Nikolai led Thalia to the center of the marble floor. The spotlight hit them, turning her deep blue dress into a shimmering ocean of silk.“Hands on my shoulders,” Nikolai muttered, his face a mask of practiced, handsome calm.Thalia placed her hands on him. He felt like stone. He placed one hand on her waist and took her other hand in his. To the guests, it looked like an intimate embrace. To Thalia, it felt like being held by a statue.They began to move.“People are looking,” Thalia whispered, her eyes searching his for a single spark of the boy she used to know.“
As they moved away from the fountain, they were intercepted by Sebastian Ravenhart. The patriarch of the family didn't smile; he merely looked at them as if he were inspecting a line of code in a program."The board is pleased with the optics tonight," Sebastian said, his voice dry. "But optics only carry a company for a quarter. Results are what matter."He looked directly at Thalia’s stomach, then back up to her eyes. "I expect the announcement of an heir within the first year of the marriage. We have already cleared a wing in the London estate for a nursery."Thalia felt the blood drain from her face. "A nursery? We haven't even had the wedding.""Precision, Thalia," Sebastian replied. "It is what built the Ravenhart name. Nikolai, ensure she understands the timeline. We don't have siblings to fall back on. This bloodline ends if you fail."He walked away without waiting for an answer.Nikolai’s grip on Thalia’s arm tightened, but it wasn't out of affection. It was a reflex of supp
The meeting ended as coldly as it had begun. "It proceeds," Alistair said, his voice final. "The meeting is done."As the room cleared, Darius reached for Thalia’s arm to escort her out, but she wrenched away. She didn't head for the exit; she followed Nikolai down the long, shadowed hallway of Ravenhart Manor.Nikolai slammed the door to his room. The heavy wood groaned against the frame, the noise echoing through the marble corridor. He didn’t offer her a seat or a kind word. He walked straight to his desk, grabbing a glass of water he didn’t even drink.Thalia stood in the middle of the room, her chest heaving. “Why did you do that?” she demanded.Nikolai turned around, his patience gone. “Do what? Buy us time? You’re welcome.”“I didn’t ask for time,” Thalia snapped. “Two weeks was fine. Two weeks was perfect. Why did you have to push for three?”Nikolai looked at her like she was speaking a different language. “Because I’m trying to find a way out, Thalia. Three weeks gives me a
By afternoon, they were finally in the same room again.It was a rehearsal meeting in name only. In reality, it was a tactical briefing. They sat at a long mahogany table, the bottled water untouched, while a large screen displayed seating charts and timelines like a battle plan. Thalia sat at one end; Nikolai sat at the other. They didn’t look at each other.“The ceremony will be private,” the planner said, her voice clinical. “Very exclusive. No surprises.”Nikolai glanced up. “Good.”Thalia said nothing.“The vows will be traditional,” the planner continued. “We’ll provide approved versions for both of you.”Approved.Thalia lifted her head. “I want to write my own. I don’t want to read something I didn’t agree to.”Every eye turned to her. The silence in the hall was sharp.Sebastian Ravenhart, seated near the head of the table, folded his hands. “That won’t be necessary. No one’s tuning in for vows,” he said calmly. “They’ll remember the photos. The optics. Not thirty seconds of
The wedding preparations began the next morning.The morning light poured through the grand windows of the Ashbourne Estate, but it didn't feel warm. The main floor, usually a place of quiet family history, had been colonized by the wedding machine. Long mahogany tables were buried under spreadsheets and jewelry vaults, and rolling racks of white fabric stood like a small army in the center of the Great Hall.Thalia stood on a raised circular dais. A stylist was trying to drape a heavy, lace-heavy gown over her, talking about "The Ravenhart Image.""This is the one," the stylist insisted. "It’s traditional. It signals a merger of old-world values."Thalia looked at the dress. It was beautiful, but it felt like a shroud. She looked around the home she was supposed to inherit and realized she felt like a guest in her own life."No," Thalia said. Her voice was small but firm.The consultants froze. Across the room, her father, Victor Ashbourne, was pacing near the fireplace, his phone pr
By noon, Thalia’s face was everywhere.Paused on screens in trading floors. Smiling from society pages. Analyzed by body-language experts who debated the angle of her chin, the stiffness of her shoulders, the way her hand hovered just a breath away from Nikolai’s—close enough to sell unity, distant enough to invite speculation.No one mentioned the bruise.No one mentioned the silence between them once the cameras shut off.The Ravenhart communications team worked fast. Too fast. Articles were seeded across international outlets within hours—clean narratives, identical phrasing, quotes attributed to “sources close to the family.” The story was simple and airtight:A strategic engagement. A shared future. A return to stability.By evening, the Ashbourne stock rebounded.By midnight, Thalia’s name was trending in six countries.She watched it all from the back seat of a black Ravenhart’s BMW XM, city lights streaking past the tinted windows. Her phone buzzed endlessly—unknown numbers,
Nikolai lay rigid beneath the weight of her trust.Her breathing evened out first—soft, shallow, the kind that came only when exhaustion finally won. Thalia slept curled against his side, one arm draped across his chest as if it had always belonged there. As if this were not borrowed time. As if it
Her stomach tightened. “Know what?”“About us. About that night. Or at least enough to use it.”Her face was drained of color. “Who?”“Everyone who matters,” he said bitterly. “And everyone who shouldn’t.”She sat down slowly. “What are they doing?”“They’re forcing the marriage.”The words landed
Thalia didn’t smile. She just booked the venue.She chose a private VIP lounge in a high-rise hotel—a sterile, beautiful box of glass and steel suspended above the city. The lighting was neutral, clinical. A place where flaws couldn’t hide. Where secrets looked like stains.Thalia arrived twenty mi
“I am securing my future!” Thalia shouted, her voice cracking just enough to betray the fear beneath it. “I don’t want this marriage any more than you do. But if I’m being forced into it, I will not be the pathetic wife waiting in the corner while you play house with your girlfriend.”Nikolai laugh







