The Wife in the Mirror

CELESTE. I had heard people say that veils were meant to shield the bride from bad luck. In my case, however, it was to protect the world from the truth-my truth. I kept my chin lifted as I walked down the aisle, every step of my slippered feet measured, the heels silent on the antique marble floor. I was dressed like a woman in love; my gloved hands clutching a bouquet of winter roses, lips painted a soft shade of pink, veil trailing like smoke behind me, heart racing like the wind that coursed through my ears.But my heart wasn’t racing from nerves or devotion. No.It beat for one reason, and one reason only: the mission.The estate chapel was cold, austere, and beautiful in a way that felt curated rather than sacred. Stone arches stretched high above, carved with ancient family crests. The pews were lined with powerful strangers: politicians, war profiteers, and quiet men in darker suits who didn’t belong to any nation’s government. There weren’t many of them,

CELESTE I woke to sunlight I didn’t ask for. It filtered through tall windows framed in dark velvet curtains, casting gold across the sheets I didn’t remember falling asleep in. The bed was too soft. Too silent. Like a coffin dressed in silk. The silence was so pure, it felt like I’d been buried in it.No footsteps. No whispers. No sign of the man who’d watched me undress the night before and then slept yards away like a ghost. The bed was too warm, the sheets too perfect. Darius Vale hadn’t touched me- but somehow, he still lingered in the air like smoke after a controlled fire.The fire had gone out sometime in the night, and the couch where he’d slept was perfectly remade- no sign he’d ever occupied it.Of course. I sat up slowly, wrapping the robe left at the foot of the bed around my body, letting the heavy silk robe slide over my arms. Even the fabric felt expensive. It always amazed me how the rich could make imprisonment so comfortable. It was monogrammed, of cours

CHAPTER FIVE: THE MISSION BEGINS.CELESTEThe walls of the estate were too quiet at night.I moved like a shadow down the west corridor, barefoot and invisible. Every quiet sigh of my feet on the marble beneath me was a warning- a reminder that I could not afford to get caught. Darius had guards, cameras- eyes that I hadn't fully mapped yet. But I had mapped him.Three days was what it took. Three days since the wedding. Three days of dinners where he said little but watched everything. Three days of silence in the room, waiting for him to lay beside me, between sheets that stretched as taut as a wire. And tonight, for the first time since I got here, I wasn’t just playing the bride. I was doing what I’d been trained to do.My fingers trailed over the keypad beside his study. Eight digits; a custom lock. I knew six of them from watching him so closely. The last two, I would have to make a good job of guessing. I exhaled through my nose and tried my first guess.Click.The green light