Ariana’s POVI used to think weddings were supposed to be magical, flowers, laughter, soft music, promises whispered under chandeliers.Now, all I feel is the weight of every eye on me.Every day, another fitting. Another headline. Another reminder that this isn’t the fairytale little girls dream of, it’s a performance.A contract disguised as love.Damian says it’s for protection. That marrying me will end the speculation, shield the baby, silence the sharks that keep circling.Maybe he’s right.But lately, I can’t tell where his devotion ends and duty begins.---The cake tasting is supposed to be the one peaceful part of all this, very simple, harmless,and sweet.Instead, I’m sitting in a hotel ballroom surrounded by endless tiers of fondant and sugar flowers, pretending to care about flavor when all I want to do is disappear.The wedding planner drones on about textures and themes. “This one’s vanilla bean with passionfruit filling. Light, elegant, timeless.”“Mm,” I manage, forc
Huling Na-update : 2025-10-12 Magbasa pa