The reception glittered with false peace.
Music played. Wine flowed. Smiles were exchanged by men who had once ordered each other's deaths.
She sat beside him on the raised table, posture perfect, heart racing.
Every instinct screamed.
This was too easy.
Too calm.
He leaned toward her. "You're tense."
"You kidnapped me and married me," she replied softly. "Forgive me for not relaxing."
A quiet breath of laughter escaped him.
"You're safer beside me than anywhere else tonight."
She didn't answer.
Her gaze drifted across the room guards positioned, exits covered, snipers unseen but present.
Then she felt it.
That cold tightening at the base of her skull.
Danger.
She turned sharply.
Bang!
Glass exploded above them.
Screams ripped through the hall as guests dove for cover.
He reacted instantly, pulling her against his chest, shielding her with his body as bullets tore through marble and flesh.
The smell of gunpowder burned her lungs.
She clutched his jacket.
"Stay down," he commanded.
Gunfire erupted from his men.
Seconds stretched into eternity.
When silence finally fell, the hall looked like a battlefield.
Bodies. Blood. Broken chandeliers.
She pulled away slowly, breath shaking.
"You're bleeding," she whispered.
He glanced down, then smirked faintly.
"Not mine."
Her eyes followed his gaze.
Her uncle lay sprawled across the floor, blood spreading beneath him, eyes wide in shock.
Her knees nearly buckled.
"No…"
She rushed forward but guards restrained her.
He stood, voice calm terrifyingly calm.
"This attack," he announced, "was an internal betrayal."
She turned on him. "You knew."
"I suspected."
"You used my wedding as bait!"
His eyes met hers without remorse.
"Yes."
Tears streamed down her face as grief and fury collided.
"You're a monster."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"And you're my wife."
She slapped him.
The sound echoed through the ruined hall.
Gasps followed.
Slowly, he turned his head back toward her.
Instead of anger…
He smiled.
"Good," he said softly. "Now the war has truly begun."
And in that moment, she understood.
This marriage was not the end of violence.
It was the spark.