Chapter Five

The next morning, I woke up with a scream trapped in my throat. I bolted upright, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. For a split second, I didn't know where I was, but then the familiar peeling wallpaper of my tiny room came into focus.

"What have I done?" I groaned, burying my face in my pillow.

The sunlight felt too bright, cutting through the gaps in my thin curtains like a blade. My head throbbed with a dull, rhythmic pulse—the price of the whiskey and the trauma of the night before. I desperately hoped it had all been a fever dream brought on by a mental breakdown. I wanted the encounter with the man in the charcoal coat to be a hallucination, a side effect of hitting rock bottom.

Then, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Unknown Number: My driver is outside.

My stomach dropped, and the air left my lungs. It wasn't a dream. It was a deadline.

I crawled out of bed and crept toward the window, pulling the curtain back just an inch. My quiet, residential street looked the same as always, except for one glaring detail. A sleek, obsidian-black sedan was idling at the curb. It looked like a shark in a goldfish pond. A man in a dark suit stood beside the rear door, his hands folded in front of him, looking like he belonged in a high-level government convoy.

The reality of the situation hit me with the force of a physical blow. I had exactly one hour to turn myself into a wife.

I scrambled through my closet, my hands shaking so hard I knocked a row of hangers onto the floor. I didn't have a wedding dress. I didn't even have something white. I settled on the only decent thing I owned—a simple cream wrap dress that I usually saved for important author signings. I did my makeup with trembling fingers, trying to hide the dark circles under my eyes and the paleness of my skin.

Don't think, Lena, I told myself, staring at my reflection. Just move.

Thirty minutes later, I stepped out of my apartment building. The driver opened the door without a word, and I slid into the back of the car. The cool, leather-scented air hit me instantly. Adrian was already there, leaning back in the seat, looking impeccable in a charcoal suit that probably cost a lot of millions.

"Good morning," he said. He didn't look up from his tablet. His voice was as steady as if he were headed to a standard board meeting.

"You’re really going through with this," I said, my voice trembling. I gripped my purse in my lap, trying to stop my hands from shaking.

"I don't make offers I don't intend to keep, Lena." He finally flicked his gaze toward me, his eyes assessing my dress, my hair, and the fear I couldn't quite hide.

The car pulled away from the curb, gliding silently into the morning traffic. "Where are we going?" I asked, looking out at the familiar streets of my neighborhood, feeling like I was seeing them for the last time.

"The courthouse," he replied.

Of course. There would be no white lace, no fragrant lilies, and no family cheering in the pews. No father to walk me down the aisle. My father was gone, his legacy was a debt that was drowning me, and the man I was supposed to marry was probably  making breakfast for my best friend.

"Adrian," I said softly, looking at the sharp line of his jaw. "Are you sure this is a good idea? We barely know each other. You're a billionaire, and I'm... I'm a mess."

"No, I’m not sure it’s a 'good' idea," he said, finally setting the tablet aside and looking me full in the face. The intensity in his eyes was enough to make me want to shrink back. "But it will be effective. It solves my problem with my mother’s interference, and it solves your problem with the Silvers. In business, effectiveness is better than goodness."

I sighed, turning to look out at the city. Part of me wanted to reach for the door handle and jump out of the moving car. I wanted to run until I couldn't breathe. But then, a flash of memory stopped me. I remembered Daniel’s smug, pitying face when he told me Sophie was moving in. I remembered how he talked to me like I was a child who couldn't handle the "real world."

Keep going, I told myself, the cold embers of my rage beginning to glow again. Don't look back. There’s nothing back there but a grave and a betrayal.

The courthouse was a blur of grey stone and echoing hallways. Everything happened so fast. There was no music, just the scratch of pens on thick paper, and some boring legal talks . Witnesses I didn't recognize stood in the corners like shadows. A judge spoke words that felt heavy and permanent, but they didn't feel like a blessing. They felt like a seal on a vault.

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

I stood there, stunned. The silence that followed was deafening. I wasn't Lena Carter anymore. I was Lena Wolfe.

"That was easy," Adrian said. His voice was casual, almost bored, as he tucked a copy of the marriage certificate into his breast pocket.

"We’re really married," I whispered, my brain struggling to catch up with reality.

"Yes." He reached into his pocket and took out a small velvet box. He didn't ask for my hand; he simply took it. His fingers were warm and firm as he slid a ring onto my finger.

The diamond was so large it felt heavy, a literal weight pulling at my hand. 

"This must have cost... so much," I whispered, staring at the stone. It was beautiful, but it felt like a brand.

"It needs to be convincing," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Convincing for who? Your mother?"

Adrian’s lips curved into a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. It was a predatory look, the look of a man who had just finished setting a trap. "For Daniel. He needs to believe that I’m obsessed with you. He needs to wonder how he could have been so stupid to let you go."

My heart skipped a beat. The mention of my ex-fiancé made the air feel thin. "And when does he find out?"

"Soon," Adrian said, guiding me toward the exit. "We’re going to a charity gala tonight. The whole city will be there.  ''You're going to walk into that room on my arm, Lena. And you're going to look like the most loved woman in the world."

I looked down at the ring, the rainbows dancing on my skin. The fear was still there, but as we walked out into the sunlight, a new feeling started to take root. For the first time since my father died, I wasn't the prey.

I was the weapon.