Anna Carter smiled until her cheeks ached.
The cameras demanded it. Guests
demanded it. The city demanded it.
Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, fingers clasped so tightly her knuckles paled beneath the lace of her gloves. Her wedding gown shimmered beneath the chandeliers of the Blackwood estate, pearls and silk cascading in folds that made her look the princess she had once dreamed of being. The orchestra's soft notes drifted in from the ballroom, mingling with laughter, crystal flutes, and the murmured awe of high society.
This is it, she told herself, heart drumming in her chest. You're Mrs. Ethan Blackwood now. The girl who dreamed is finally the woman who won.
Yet the man beside her might as well have been carved from stone.
Ethan Blackwood stood tall, broad-shouldered in his tailored suit, his jaw set in the same impenetrable line it always held when business cameras snapped his picture. His dark eyes flicked across the room, not once resting on her. If anyone watched, they would see the perfect groom: poised, controlled, devastatingly handsome. But Anna felt the absence of warmth.
She leaned closer, lowering her voice so only he would hear. You haven't said a word to me all night.
Ethan didn't turn. Do you want me to put on a show?
His tone was flat. Careless.
A shard of hurt caught in her chest, though she kept her smile pinned in place for the benefit of a passing guest. I thought maybe you'd at least try.
Finally, his gaze cut to hers sharp, unreadable, like a blade catching light. I am trying, he murmured for them. His chin jerked toward the crowd, toward the flashing eyes of reporters and the eager whispers of businessmen waiting to shake his hand.
Not for her. Never for her.
Anna swallowed against the lump in her throat, her smile wobbling. Maybe love will grow, she reminded herself desperately. Maybe once the guests leave, he'll soften.
But doubt had a way of unraveling dreams quickly.
Across the ballroom, her best friend Grace caught her gaze. Grace her bridesmaid and anchor arched a brow in concern. Anna forced a reassuring nod. Everything's fine, she mouthed. Grace's lips pressed thin. She didn't believe it, but she let it go.
The Blackwood estate sparkled with decadence: marble floors, gold ceilings, and floral arrangements taller than children. For the city's elite, it was a fairy tale come alive. They toasted, they gossiped, they envied. Every glance at Anna was tinged with awe or jealousy. The girl from a respectable but modest family, now the queen of the empire.
If only they knew.
When the orchestra shifted into a slower melody, Ethan's hand closed loosely over hers. Smile, he commanded softly. They're watching.
Her throat tightened. His touch, the one she had craved since she was a girl staring across schoolyards at him, felt like a business
transaction.
Still, she obeyed.
They moved into the ballroom's center for the first dance. Applause rose, polite and thunderous. Anna placed her free hand against his shoulder, trying to ignore how rigid he was beneath her palm. His other hand settled at her waist, light as if touching fire.
Relax, she whispered, searching his face for any trace of warmth. It's just us.
His jaw flexed. No, Anna. It's never just us.
The words stung more than she expected. She drew in a sharp breath, blinking back the sudden prick of tears. She would not let them fall not here, not now, not on the night she had longed for all her life.
Around them, the guests watched with sighs and admiration. What a perfect pair, someone whispered. The Blackwoods and Carters are finally united.
Perfect. The word clanged hollow in Anna's ears.
Her father stood at the edge of the crowd, his smile proud but tired, like a man relieved to see his daughter's future secured. He had wanted this match nearly as much as she had. For him, for her family, for herself, she couldn't afford to falter.
So she tilted her chin higher and smiled brighter, even as Ethan's eyes slid past her shoulder, as though searching for someone else.
And then, for the briefest moment, she thought she saw it a flicker in his gaze, a softening when the music swelled. His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly at her waist. Hope bloomed, fragile and immediate.
But it vanished as quickly as it came. He released her the instant the song ended, stepping back with polite detachment.
The applause thundered. Anna stood in the center of it, aching beneath her smile.
Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood, the announcer called.
Her title. Her dream. Yet it felt like a costume stitched too tightly to breathe.
Grace appeared at her side as the guests moved toward the dining hall. You okay? she whispered, low enough not to be overheard.
I'm fine, Anna said, too quickly. It's just nerves.
Grace studied her, skeptical. Anna, you don't have to pretend with me.
But she did. She had to. If she admitted out loud that her husband despised her, that her dream marriage was already cracking, the truth would devour her whole.
So she looped her arm through Grace's, straightened her spine, and smiled until it hurt.
Later, when the crowd thinned and the champagne dulled into a quiet hum, Anna found herself on the balcony, staring out over the glittering city skyline. Cool night air brushed her skin, carrying the scent of roses from the gardens below. For the first time all evening, she let her tears fall.
Inside, laughter rose and glasses clinked.
She leaned against the railing, whispering into the night, Please just see me.
A shadow fell across the doorway. She turned.
Ethan stood there, tie loosened, expression carved from stone. For a heartbeat, something flickered in his eyessomething almost tender.
Her breath caught. Ethan
But he looked past her, back into the ballroom, and whatever softness she thought she saw was gone.
I'll make sure the driver's ready, he said coolly. Don't stay out here too long.
And then he was gone.
Anna's hands trembled against the railing. A single tear slid down her cheek, vanishing into the silk of her gown.
In the distance, the city lights sparkled like stars. To everyone inside, she was the luckiest woman alive. The perfect bride. The woman who had it all.
But out here, in the quiet, Anna knew the truth.
She had married the man of her dreams.
And he didn't want her.