3

SOPHIA

A sudden Bride.

Hatred. Pure, burning hatred was all I felt. I hated him. I hated myself for seeking his approval for so long. I hated everyone.

He was all smiles as he led me into the car, adjusting his suit. "I already called the church. Ricci knows there was a minor accident, but I told him we're fine. He won't ask questions. Sara had a second dress for the reception. You'll wear it and act well. Now, go get changed."

Everything felt unreal as I slipped into the gown. The silk was smooth against my skin, but I felt suffocated. I was trapped in my thoughts throughout the whole preparation.

Less than an hour later, I was a bitter bride. My eyes grazed my reflection in the mirror. In other circumstances, I would be happier and even proud of my look.

As the car pulled up in front of the church, I clutched the flower bouquet in my hand, itching to pull out the flowers one by one and destroy them.

"Wear a perfect smile, darling," Gerald warned, taking my hand as we stood at the entrance. "If anyone suspects anything, you and your mother are finished!"

My head nodded on its own. I wondered how he managed to threaten me while wearing a smile.

My heart hardened even more. He was going to regret his decision. I would make him regret it! I was done trying to make him proud of me. Now, I was going to make him pay. He had just put me in the perfect spot to ruin Ricci Russo.

The church was nearly empty. The decorations were simple, and there was no grand celebration. I marched down the aisle, a fake smile plastered on my cheeks. I heard Gerald curse under his breath as we walked.

"Will you calm down before I lose my temper!" He growled under his breath, trying to match my pace.

I smirked in his direction. "You can try that," I dared, my voice equally low as I glared into his eyes. "And maybe then, Ricci will see how much of a mistake he is making getting married to the daughter of a scumbag!"

His face turned red. I sniffled a cruel laughter at his expression. "Your smile looks constipated, dear stepfather. We don't want anyone suspecting anything, do we?"

He remained silent, his expression changing every minute as he tried to smile.

After what seemed like years, we got to the altar, and I suppressed a gasp.

Ricci Russo, my husband-to-be, now stood like a figure carved from stone. He was devastatingly handsome, his jet-black hair sleek, his piercing blue eyes unreadable.

But he didn't seem to care about the wedding at all. He only glanced at his smartwatch and then at my stepfather with a strange glint in his eyes.

"I apologize for the delay, Ricci. We didn't know that the accident would occur. She is all yours now," Gerald apologized passionately, practically pushing me into continuous arms.

I pulled away from him, turning to the priest who stood awkwardly in the center

"Skip to the vows." Ricci snapped. For some reason, his voice sent a chill down my spine. It was so smooth, deep, and velvety.

"Yes, Mr. Russo."

The vows were merely a bland ritual, leading to the contract being sealed. My hands felt heavy as they brought a certificate of marriage and handed me a pen.

The ceremony was quick, quicker than a normal wedding ceremony-completely emotionless.

His focus was elsewhere, his fingers constantly tapping on his smartwatch, his phone buzzing in his pocket.

Before I could fully process it, the rings slid onto our fingers, and in one swift move, he pressed his lips against mine. I didn't even hear the priest say that. I guessed I wasn't the only one desperate for the ceremony to just end.

The reception seemed to blur by. All I could think about was Sara. The only person beaming through the whole ceremony was Gerald. It was almost like he had forgotten Sara even existed.

"Mr. Russo, thank you so much for this alliance. I assure you-"

"I don't appreciate my time being wasted, Mr. Gerald. You're lucky I didn't call off the alliance. This should never happen again!" Ricci snapped, cutting Gerald short.

I expected Gerald to be mad as he always was whenever we interrupted him, but he almost bowed. He could even kiss Ricci's feet.

"It won't happen again. I swear-"

"Good., Ricci interjected before walking off.

When it was time for the father-daughter dance, all Gerald did was threaten me. "You must make him happy. Do all he asks of you. If I hear as much as one bad thing about you, nothing will stop me from coming over there and dealing with you!"

I ignored him until the dance was over.

"It's time to head home, Mrs. Russo," a man in a suit stated an hour later, his hands stretched out to me.

I rolled my eyes. So Ricci was too proud to lead his new wife home.

And, just like that, I was in his car, driving toward his estate.

The silence was suffocating. Ricci didn't even acknowledge me as his new wife. He was already working, his MacBook open on his lap.

When we reached his mansion, he finally put his laptop away.

His lips curved into something unreadable. Partially amused and partially something darker. It irked me and made me want to stay as far away from him as possible.

"Well, well," he murmured, leaning against the doorframe. "Now that work is out of the way, I have time for you. Mrs. Russo... or should I say, Sophia Williams, the journalist who was never supposed to be my bride?"

My breath caught in my throat, and my blood ran cold as he said those words to me.

So he knew who I was.

My stepfather had said Ricci didn't know who he was marrying. But he did.

And worst of all... if he knew, why did he still go through with the wedding?