The church was resplendent. Crystal chandeliers reflected the candlelight, and white flowers decorated every corner, spreading a gentle fragrance that contrasted with the heavy atmosphere of the occasion. For the guests, this union was a spectacle of prestige, an event celebrating the strength and continuity of two of Rio de Janeiro's wealthiest and most respected families. But for Elisa and Eduardo, it was nothing more than a cruel theater.
Elisa walked down the red carpet with her light veil swaying to the rhythm of her restrained steps. She wore an elegant dress, delicately embroidered, but in her eyes there was no sparkle, only the shadow of resignation. Each step echoed like a hammer on her soul. Behind her, Francisca Santos, her grandmother, watched with veiled pride, like someone fulfilling an old duty. For Francisca, this union wasn't just a marriage, it was the fulfillment of a promise made to an old friend: Frederico Castro.
Eduardo, Frederico's grandson, stood at the altar. His impeccable bearing conveyed confidence to the onlookers, but inside he carried a mixture of coldness and resistance. He had never wanted this marriage. His life was guided by business, power, and calculated decisions, not by feelings imposed by family alliances. Still, there he was, with an impassive face, waiting for the woman who would become his wife.
Their gazes met as Elisa approached. There was a moment when the world seemed to fall silent, as if even the air held its breath. She searched Eduardo's face for some spark of humanity, some sign that she wasn't entering an abyss alone. But she found only a hard, almost defiant look. He, in turn, saw in her a sweetness that disconcerted him for a second, but he quickly suppressed any emotion.
The priest began the ceremony with rehearsed words that spoke of love, union, and complicity. Words that sounded like irony in the face of these two people's reality. Elisa heard each phrase as if chains were being placed on her wrists. Eduardo listened as one who watches a negotiation from which he cannot escape.
When the moment for the rings arrived, the silence grew denser. The gold ring was handed to Eduardo. His firm hands held the jewel, but as he placed it on Elisa's delicate finger, his eyes revealed no tenderness, only the cold acceptance of a contract. Elisa, with trembling hands, returned the gesture, sealing the pact she had not chosen.
And in that instant, the silent alliance was born. There were no whispered promises, no exchange of knowing glances. Only the metallic gleam of the rings reflecting the absence of feelings. For the guests, it seemed like an impeccable ceremony, a symbol of greatness and tradition. For them, it was a gilded prison.
Francisca smiled discreetly, satisfied with securing her granddaughter's future. Frederico, emotional, saw in this marriage the fulfillment of an old dream, the union of two families destined for greatness. Both ignored the weight that Elisa and Eduardo carried in their hearts.
After the forced "I do," applause echoed through the church. Elisa felt her hands sweat inside the lace gloves, and her heart raced as if begging to flee. Eduardo, firmly, held her hand, guiding her to the exit like one conducting a signed contract, unaware of the almost painful grip he impressed upon her fingers.
In the luxurious car that took them to the reception, silence reigned. Elisa looked out the window, searching the horizon for some sign of freedom, while Eduardo remained rigid beside her, his mind occupied with calculations and justifications. Neither dared to speak, because any word might reveal the fragility they were trying to hide.
The reception was grandiose. Tables filled with flowers and crystal, guests toasting, photographers capturing every detail. But at the center of the celebration, Elisa felt like an actress trapped in a role she never wanted to play. Eduardo, beside her, performed each gesture with the precision of a host, but without a single genuine smile.
Society's eyes fell upon them, admiring the bride's beauty and the groom's imposing presence. But no one noticed the emptiness that united them. The silent alliance was already present, invisible but as heavy as iron.
That night, when they were finally alone in the hotel room, the silence became even more eloquent. Elisa removed her veil with trembling hands, avoiding Eduardo's gaze. He, in turn, loosened his tie and reclined in the armchair, observing her with a mixture of curiosity and coldness.
Elisa broke the silence for the first time. Her voice low but firm, revealed more courage than she herself believed she possessed.
"I don't want you to think I'm going to beg for your love, Eduardo. I know you don't want me here, but I didn't choose this."
He arched an eyebrow, surprised by her determination.
"Neither did I choose it, Elisa. But if we're trapped in this farce, let's at least know how to play the game. Don't expect tenderness from me. This marriage is just an obligation."
The words fell like daggers, but Elisa was already expecting them. Still, in her gaze there was a silent gleam of resistance.
"Be that as it may, Eduardo... I won't let you destroy me."
It was the first time he found himself disconcerted. There was strength in this woman that he hadn't expected to find.
And so, that night, the silent alliance was consolidated. Not as a symbol of love, but as a pact between two souls forced to walk side by side, each fighting against their own wounds.
The city slept, and the stars' brightness seemed to mock them both. While the guests celebrated the wedding of the year in their homes, Elisa and Eduardo faced the harsh reality: they were united but separated by an invisible wall, built by others' will.
The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear — the silent war between