Chapter 4 The Bride

The night felt endless.

I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind spinning in circles. A wedding gown. Exactly the same as he requested.

Why?

Was he marrying someone else? But why would he care if my bruises healed? Why bring me food and force me to get better just for someone else’s wedding?

Or… was this another twisted part of my punishment?

The next morning, the door unlocked.

Demi walked in. He wasn’t alone. Behind him were two women holding a long, white garment box. They placed it carefully on the bed and opened it.

My breath hitched in my throat.

It was the most beautiful wedding gown I had ever seen. Pure white silk, intricate lace, and diamonds that sparkled like stars.

But it wasn’t just any dress.

It was elegant, hauntingly familiar… and it looked exactly like the one his dead bride was supposed to wear.

“Put it on,” Demi commanded coldly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“What?” I trembled, pulling the sheets closer to my body.

“Why? Why would I wear this?”

“I said put it on,” his voice dropped an octave, dangerous and final.

“Or do I need to remind you what happens when you disobey me?”

My heart sank.

I knew better than to argue. With shaking hands, I let the maid help me. The fabric felt soft against my skin, but it felt heavy, like a shroud. It fit me perfectly, as if it was made specifically for my body.

When I stood up, Demi’s eyes darkened. He walked slowly towards me, his gaze traveling from my head down to my feet. A strange expression crossed his face—part fury, part obsession, and something else I couldn’t name.

“You look…” he whispered, reaching out to touch the lace near my shoulder. “You look exactly like her.”

A chill ran down my spine.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, my voice barely audible. “You said I would see my family.”

“You will,” he smirked darkly. “But first, you play your part.”

He grabbed my arm, not gently, and dragged me out of the room. We walked through the long, dark hallways of his mansion until we reached the grand hall.

The doors opened, and my heart stopped.

My father was there. My stepmother. Even my boyfriend, Kean. They were all standing in the center of the room, looking terrified, surrounded by his armed men.

“Father!” I cried out.

“Fyr!” My father rushed towards me, but was stopped by a gun pointed at his chest.

“Everyone stay in place,” Demi ordered calmly, yet his voice echoed like thunder.

He pulled me close to his side, forcing me to stand beside him like a trophy.

“What is the meaning of this?” My father demanded, his voice shaking.

“Why is she wearing that? What are you planning, Demi Shire?”

Demi smiled, but his eyes remained cold and dead.

“You see,” he began, looking around the room at my terrified family.

“Justice was not served by just killing her. Death is too quick.”

He turned to look at me, his grip on my waist tightening painfully.

“My bride died because of her. So now… Fyr Cloud will take her place.”

“From today onwards,” he announced loudly, his voice filled with dark satisfaction.

“She is not just my prisoner. She is my new Bride.”

“And she will live wearing the face, the clothes, and the life of the woman she killed… forever.”

I froze. The world seemed to stop spinning.

His bride?

He wasn’t going to kill me. He wasn’t going to let me go.

He was going to force me to become her. To live as his wife, trapped in the shadow of a dead woman, belonging to a devil who would never let me forget what I had done.