Chapter 4 — The Bride in Disguise
Aria's POV
The wedding dress wasn't made for her.
It was Isla's.
Strapless. Fitted. Floral lace stitched by hand. Too bright for Aria's taste, too bold for someone who preferred shadows.
But she wore it anyway.
The mirror reflected a woman who wasn't her—a flawless bride with soft curls, glossy lips, and eyes wide with innocence. She looked like Isla. Spoke like her. Even walked the way Isla did.
All of it had been rehearsed.
Because today, Aria Monroe wasn't herself.
She was Isla—the girl Lucien Moretti had expected to marry.
And no one suspected a thing.
Not the photographers. Not the guests. Not the Morettis. Not even Lucien himself.
At least, not yet.
Their father had made the switch quietly. No press announcement. No conversation. Just a whispered command in the hallway: "It's you now."
And that was it.
Aria had never been meant to wear this dress. But she stepped into it like stepping into a battlefield.
No complaints. No fear.
Just silent resolve.
She would get through the wedding. Get into the Moretti house. And then… she'd uncover what no one else dared to look for.
She didn't need to be Isla forever.
Just long enough to become a threat.
---
Wedding Ceremony — Moretti Chapel
The private ceremony took place at the Moretti family chapel, nestled in the back gardens of their estate. Gilded ceilings, white roses, and enough security to rival a presidential event.
Everyone stood as she walked down the aisle.
Aria's breath was steady. Her posture perfect. Her veil low enough to hide the small difference in their faces.
Lucien stood at the altar.
Black tuxedo. Stone expression. Hands clasped in front of him.
He didn't smile.
Didn't flinch.
Just watched her like a puzzle.
When she reached him, he offered his arm.
"Isla," he said under his breath, the first word he'd spoken to her all day.
Aria looked up and forced a soft smile.
Lucien's brow lifted — just barely.
But he said nothing.
---
Lucien's POV
She looked like Isla.
But something was… off.
Her eyes didn't flicker nervously. Her hands didn't tremble. Her smile was too composed.
This wasn't the skittish girl he'd been shown pictures of.
This woman was poised. Controlled. Dangerous, in a quiet way.
And she didn't flinch when the priest said Lucien Moretti, do you take Isla Monroe—
He said yes.
She said yes.
And when he kissed her… her lips were still.
Cool.
Perfect.
Calculated.
Like the kiss wasn't a promise.
It was a trap.
---
Later That Night — The Reception
The ballroom was drenched in red and gold. Guests drank, laughed, danced. Champagne flowed like water.
Lucien didn't leave Aria's side.
Not because he was enchanted.
Because he was suspicious.He already knew from the time she stepped into the hall.
She smiled at his men. She whispered small talk to his mother. She held his arm with grace.
But her eyes… were always scanning.
He could feel it.
She was watching everything.
Memorizing it.
---
Aria's POV — That Same Night
She didn't let her guard down for a second.
The Moretti mansion was bigger, colder, darker than she imagined. Every corridor hummed with secrets. Every man in a suit might've had blood under his cuffs.
But she kept smiling.
Lucien hadn't figured her out.
Yet.
He was watching her closely—but so far, he'd said nothing.
One night. Just get through the first night.
Then her plan could begin.
---
Later — In Lucien's Private Wing
Lucien finally brought her to his private suite. Marble floors. Cold steel accents. Firelight flickering across weapons in a glass case.
He offered her a glass of wine. She accepted. Pretended to sip.
"I thought you'd be more… nervous," he said finally.
Aria tilted her head. "Should I be?"
His gaze sharpened. "No."
But his tone said: Yes.
He moved closer. Just a step. "You look different tonight."
She met his eyes. "You don't."
That seemed to amuse him."You are Aria huh".
She looked at him, shocked,no, hesitant.She didn't know what next to do
Then there was a knock at the door.
Lucien frowned. "No interruptions."
But the door creaked open anyway.
And in stepped a woman in a tight black dress, red lipstick and danger wrapped in heels.
Lucien's expression darkened. "Sofia."
The woman smirked. "Missed me?