Twice His Bride

ZARIAI woke up to the sharp sting in my arm and a pounding headache that made it hard to breathe. My limbs were heavy, and my mouth tasted like metal. It took me a moment to realize I couldn’t see. Panic spiked in my chest as I reached up, only to feel a thick cloth tied tightly around my eyes. I was blindfolded. My breath hitched, and I froze.Voices echoed somewhere close, muffled by distance but still clear enough to pick up."She’s awake?"A deep male voice said, it was smooth but laced with cruelty."Not yet fully. The drug should wear off any minute now," A woman replied, she sounded calm and uninterested.I tried to sit up, but my arms were tied. A whimper escaped me before I could stop it and the voices grew louder."Her father's a bastard, you know that? Selling his own daughter like a piece of meat," the man said with a laugh."Arturo Mendez always did have a price. We just happened to pay it."My breath caught in my throat. Did I hear that right? My father? My father sold

ZARIA I used to think that falling in love with Roman Wolfe was the safest thing that could ever happen to me. Not because I loved him, but because being attached to a name like his meant I would never be touched. No one would dare and for a long time, that was enough.Roman was everything the world respected. Calm and powerful. The heir to a legacy that could make or break empires. And me? I was the daughter of a hero and a disgrace. My mother had died for justice. My father had traded me for a debt. But somehow, that didn’t matter when I was on Roman’s arm. His name silenced the whispers and his presence turned threats into silence.We played the part well. The perfect couple with shared smiles, elegant hand touches in public and matching designer outfits. People adored us. He wasn’t cruel, he never was to me. In private, he was gentle in a distant way. We weren’t lovers, but we were allies and there was a strange comfort in that. A scheduled wedding two weeks away, headlines rea

ZARIA The room reeked of vanilla, cologne and luxury. Everything was too clean, white and cold. I blinked against the soft light filtering in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. My wrists ached from the restraint,“Those damn bastards”, I cursed.my legs were bare and I was dressed in neater clothes, but they were not my own clothes.I sat up slowly. The bed beneath me felt like clouds, but I wasn’t floating. I was sinking.The door creaked open and Darian Wolfe walked in like he owned everything, including me. He wore a charcoal suit, with no tie and the top button undone. His eyes found mine and they didn’t flinch."You’re awake," he said.I didn’t answer. What was there to say?"You slept long enough to miss two meals and a storm. I was beginning to think you were faking it."He walked to the table and dropped a thick folder onto it. The sound echoed."That’s your future," he paused and looked at me with a keen expression. "Our future. Read it. Sign it and make peace with it."

ZARIAThe day arrived like a sharp blade, it was all too fast, bright and loud. Just a few days ago I was at an auction to be sold for a price and today I stood in front of the mirror, my reflection a lie wrapped in satin and lace…. getting married to a man who now sees me as the devil herself. The wedding dress was custom, hand-stitched by some famous designer, a gown fit for royalty. I barely felt like a person, let alone a bride. My hands trembled as the stylists adjusted the hem, one of them gasping softly as she took a step back."You look... breathtaking," she whispered.“Like a dream,” another cooed, circling me with a spray of perfume….a choking one at that."Better than the other one," another said under her breath.My ears perked."The other one?" I asked quietly.She stiffened, eyes wide. “Nothing. I didn’t mean…”"Darian’s finally with the one he should’ve been with all along," a third added, thinking I couldn’t hear.A thin and hollow one, because none of this was real…no

DARIAN She’s bleeding. The words echoed in my head, refusing to settle. I moved before I could think. Fast and silent. Every step down the marble hallway was filled with dread I refused to name. Not fear. Not concern. Just... tension. That’s all. The scent of blood was the first thing I noticed. It clung to the air, harsh, metallic and wrong. My heart slammed once, then again. I pushed open the door. She was there. Zaria. Slumped against the bathroom sink, her wedding dress streaked with crimson, the fabric clinging to her as if it, too, was begging her to stay upright. Her head was bowed, strands of hair stuck to her damp forehead, her fingers trembling as she tried to hold herself steady. But she couldn’t. Her head jerked up when she heard me, her eyes unfocused and glassy. “I’m fine,” she said, voice barely a whisper. “It’s just…” And in the next second….she collapsed. I was at her side before she hit the tiles. “Hey Zaria…Zaria, look at me.” Her ey