Chapter 6

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted them—my family, seated in the front row. My father with his perfectly practiced smile, my mother’s eyes gleaming with approval, and my siblings sitting like statues beside them.

And on the other side, equally poised and picture-perfect, the Kingston family. Sylvia Kingston sat tall, her expression unreadable but pleasant—too pleasant.

Beside her sat Nathaniel Kingston, Sebastian’s younger brother. Maybe twenty-five. Slightly more relaxed in posture, but no less refined. His features bore the same sharp edges—the same cold beauty—but where Sebastian’s eyes were ice, Nathaniel’s held a flicker of something else.

They all looked so pleased. Like everything had finally fallen into place. While I… I couldn’t feel my own hands. Because this wasn’t a beginning. It was the sealing of a fate I never chose.

Then suddenly, Sebastian moved. He leaned in slowly as if even his gestures had to be measured. I felt his breath brush against my ear—warm and terrifying.

“Execute your role properly,” he whispered, voice cold and flat. “I don’t tolerate mistakes.”

I stiffened. The words were sharp, yet familiar. It was the same words my parents used to say to me.

My jaw clenched at the words. I had spent my entire life being trained to please—to smile when told, to speak when needed, to behave as expected. I was bred to be perfect. So, I gave him exactly that.

I straightened, plastered on the kind of smile that could sell headlines, and turned my face to the crowd just as the cameras began to flash. And maybe it was just my imagination… but I swore I saw him flinch. A flicker—confusion? Irritation?—before he masked it.

The priest’s voice echoed through the grand cathedral, speaking of unity, faith, and love—words that felt like a joke in a room built on power and fear. Then came the vows.

“Do you, Sebastian Kingston, take this woman—”

“I do.” No hesitation. No warmth. Just a clean, detached answer—like ticking a box on one of his checklists. A rustle of movement followed, then the rings were handed over.

Sebastian reached for my hand—my cold, trembling hand—and took it without flinching. His grip was firm as he put the ring on my finger.

Then the priest turned to me.

“And do you, Lorelie Montgomery, take this man as your husband…”

Silence.

My mouth didn’t move. My throat clenched. The words sat on my tongue like stone. I could feel the air shift—the murmur of guests, the twitch of eyebrows, the sound of someone clearing their throat. I could feel the pressure build behind my eyes. Then—finally—I closed my heart. I released every last dream I’d carried since I was a girl. The ones I used to paint into watercolor landscapes and country cottages. The ones that weren’t allowed exist in this life.

I felt my fingers twitch. My shoulders lock. And then…I let go.

“I do,” I whispered, each syllable a knife in my own chest.

With shaking hands, I reached for Sebastian’s. He didn’t flinch as if everything was normal. I slid the ring onto his finger, sealing the vow that wasn’t mine to choose.

And just like that—Lorelie Montgomery ceased to exist. I became someone else—Mrs. Kingston.

And the show continued. A murmur passed through the room. The priest smiled like nothing had happened.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

He turned to Sebastian.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Sebastian didn’t hesitate. He lifted my veil, his eyes scanning me like I was an investment he’d just acquired. Then his hand closed around my waist—firm, controlling—and he pulled me forward all while the cathedral was filled with cheers and loud claps.

Our lips met. His lips were cold against mine, unmoving for a second, then pressing just enough to pass for affection in front of the crowd. A kiss not for me, but for the cameras.

I closed my eyes and let him lead. Because that’s what was expected of me. And I had learned long ago—expectation is stronger than hope.