MasukArthur’s voice cut through the silence behind me. “And where do you think you’re going?”
I froze with my hand on the garden door handle. My heart slammed against my ribs. Slowly, I turned around. He stood at the end of the hallway, shirt still half-unbuttoned, hair messy from earlier. His eyes moved over me, the robe, the small bag in my hand, my bare feet. He didn’t look angry. Just… calm. “Don't make me repeat myself, Sophie.” I swallowed hard. “I… I needed some air.” He started walking toward me. Each step was steady. Unhurried. I backed up until my back touched the door. He stopped just close enough that I could smell whiskey and his cologne. “Air?” He glanced at the bag in my hand, then back at my face. “Still on your wedding dress?” Before I could answer, he reached out and took my wrist. Not hard, but firm enough that I couldn’t pull away. “Come with me.” He turned and started walking. I had no choice but to follow. My legs felt weak as we moved down the hallway. Every closed door we passed made my stomach tighten. He stopped at the quiet guest room I had just left, opened the door, and waited. I hesitated. “Inside,” he said quietly. I stepped in. The door closed behind us. The lock clicked softly. Arthur looked at me for a long moment. Then he reached for the front of my robe and pulled it open. The silk slipped off my shoulders and fell to the floor. Cool air brushed my skin. I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling exposed. That’s when it happened. A thick bundle of bills slipped from the hidden pocket and hit the floor with a soft thud. Then another. And another. Crisp hundreds scattered across the carpet, some landing near his shoes, others on the bed. More kept falling as the torn fabric shifted. It was a lot of money. They lay there between us like proof of my shame. My face burned with humiliation. I wanted the ground to open and swallow me whole. Arthur stared down at the money. His jaw tightened slightly. He bent down, picked up one bundle, and turned it over in his hands. When he looked back at me, his eyes were darker. “You were running,” he said. Not a question. Just a quiet statement. I couldn’t speak. My throat felt tight. “With my family’s money. On our wedding night.” He let the bundle drop back onto the pile. “After everything today.” Heat crawled up my neck. I felt small. Stupid. Exposed in every way possible. “I didn’t—” My voice cracked. “I wasn’t thinking straight.” He stepped closer. Not aggressive, but close enough that I had to tilt my head to look at him. “Did your family send you here to steal from me?” He stepped closer, “This will be reported to your family tomorrow.” I looked down at the money scattered around my feet. Tears stung my eyes. The humiliation sat heavy in my chest. I had actually believed I could get away. Now I stood here half naked, caught, with the evidence all over the floor. Arthur sighed softly. “Look at me, Sophie.” I forced my eyes up. “You belong here now,” he said. His voice was low, controlled. “As my wife. Running away on the first night with stolen money? That’s not how this works.” He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face. The touch was almost gentle, but his eyes stayed cold. “Pick up the money,” he told me. I stared at him. “Every single bill. Pick it up.” My hands shook as I knelt down. I gathered the scattered hundreds one by one while he watched. The silence was deafening. Every time I reached for another bundle, I felt more exposed. More pathetic. When I finally stood up with the money in my arms, my cheeks were burning. Arthur took the cash from me and set it on the dresser. Then he turned back. “Get on the bed.” I hesitated again. “Please don’t make this difficult,” he said quietly. “We both know how tonight is supposed to go for us.” I moved to the bed and sat on the edge. My mind was spinning. The image of him with Elena earlier kept flashing behind my eyes, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Not now. Arthur loosened the rest of his shirt buttons. He didn’t rush. He watched me the whole time, like he was studying my reaction. “You’re my wife now,” he said as he moved closer. “Whether you like it or not. And I expect you to act like it.” He stopped in front of me. His hand tilted my chin up gently but firmly. “Starting tonight.”Arthur’s voice cut through the silence behind me. “And where do you think you’re going?”I froze with my hand on the garden door handle. My heart slammed against my ribs. Slowly, I turned around.He stood at the end of the hallway, shirt still half-unbuttoned, hair messy from earlier. His eyes moved over me, the robe, the small bag in my hand, my bare feet. He didn’t look angry. Just… calm. “Don't make me repeat myself, Sophie.”I swallowed hard. “I… I needed some air.”He started walking toward me. Each step was steady. Unhurried. I backed up until my back touched the door. He stopped just close enough that I could smell whiskey and his cologne.“Air?” He glanced at the bag in my hand, then back at my face. “Still on your wedding dress?”Before I could answer, he reached out and took my wrist. Not hard, but firm enough that I couldn’t pull away. “Come with me.”He turned and started walking. I had no choice but to follow. My legs felt weak as we moved down the hallway. Every closed
I pushed the door open.The sight hit me like a punch.Arthur had Elena bent over the edge of the bed, her pink dress bunched around her waist. He stood behind her, moving with slow, deliberate thrusts. His hands gripped her hips tightly. The sharp sound of skin meeting skin filled the room. Elena moaned softly, pushing back against him, her face flushed with pleasure.I couldn’t breathe.Arthur leaned over her, one hand sliding up to grip her hair. He pulled her head back gently as he drove deeper. “Like that?” he murmured against her ear.Elena’s eyes fluttered open. She saw me first. For a split second, surprise flashed across her face. Then her lips curved into that familiar smirk. She didn’t stop. If anything, she arched her back more, moaning louder while keeping her eyes locked on mine.Arthur hadn’t noticed me yet. He kept thrusting steadily, completely focused on her, his breathing rough. Elena’s moans grew sharper as she pushed back against him, still staring at me with that
The next three days disappeared in a blur of relentless activity. From sunrise to late evening, people surrounded me without a single moment to breathe. Dress designers measured every inch of my body, pinning expensive lace against my skin and arguing over tiny details as if I were a mannequin. Florists arrived in waves, carrying thousands of white roses, orchids, and lilies until the Oliver mansion smelled like a luxury garden. Workers hung crystal chandeliers, rolled out imported carpets, and polished every surface until it gleamed. Everyone was excited. Everyone except me. The wedding wasn’t about love. It was about business, saving my family’s failing restaurant through this alliance with the Olivers. On the morning of the ceremony, I stood before a full-length mirror while two makeup artists applied the final touches. The woman staring back looked beautiful. The white gown hugged my figure perfectly, long lace sleeves covering my arms while tiny crystals sparkled with every
The silence after Dad’s words felt like a thick blanket pressing down on all of us. Mom’s eyes widened. She set her glass down slowly. “I thought we still had a few more months,” she said, her voice shaky. “I never knew it was already over.”Dad didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the table like the weight of everything was crushing him. Elena kept scrolling on her phone, pretending not to care. No one looked at me. But I felt it. That cold glance Dad gave me earlier. Something bad was coming.After dinner, everyone went to bed like nothing had happened. The house grew quiet, except for the usual creaks in the old floors. I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I slipped up to the attic. The small lamp cast a warm glow on the dusty beams as I drew. My pencil moved fast, sketching a girl running through an open field, free. My hands shook a little. I tried to lose myself in the lines like I always did.A knock sounded on the attic door.“Sophie?” Marcus’s small voice called. “Daddy wants
This was supposed to be the start of something new. At least that’s what I kept telling myself as I walked down the hallway of the Oliver's mansion in my wedding dress. The heavy fabric brushing against the carpet with every step.Soft, breathy moans drifted from the honeymoon suite ahead.I stopped. The sound cut through the quiet like a warning. Then came the slow, rhythmic creak of the bed. My fingers tightened around the bouquet. It can’t be what it sounds like.But the moans continued. Low. Intimate. Familiar.I moved closer. Arthur’s deep voice rumbled through the door. “I still don’t understand why they chose your sister over you, for me when you are this good.”Elena’s breathless laugh answered. “Stop talking about her and go faster, Arthur… please.”My chest twisted painfully. I hesitated, hand hovering near the doorknob, then pushed the door open.The sight hit me like a punch.My husband had my sister bent over the edge of the bed, her pink dress bunched around her waist. H







