The church was glowing with gold chandeliers and soft violin music, but all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat.
Slow. Heavy. Trapped.
White roses lined the aisle. Cameras flashed. The guests whispered excitedly, their eyes filled with envy and admiration. To them, this was the wedding of the year. The city's most powerful billionaire was finally getting married.
And the lucky bride?
Me.
If only they knew.
I stood behind the tall wooden doors, my fingers trembling as I clutched the bouquet. The dress was perfect. Silk and lace wrapped around my body like a dream. Diamonds sparkled at my throat. I looked like a woman walking into her fairy tale.
But fairy tales don't begin with blackmail.
They don't begin with revenge.
And they certainly don't begin with hatred.
"Miss Carter, it's time," the coordinator whispered gently.
Time.
One word. One step. And my life would never be mine again.
The doors opened slowly.
The music swelled.
Every head turned toward me.
And there he was.
Alexander Knight.
Standing at the end of the aisle in a perfectly tailored black suit, looking calm, powerful, untouchable. His dark eyes locked onto mine instantly. No smile. No warmth. Just control.
He didn't look like a groom.
He looked like a king claiming his prize.
Alexander Knight was only twenty-eight, yet he owned half the city. Hotels. Tech companies. Real estate. His name carried weight. Fear. Power.
Three months ago, that same man had walked into my father's company with a quiet smile and walked out owning it.
One signature.
That was all it took to ruin us.
I remembered the day clearly. My father sitting in his office, pale and silent. The contract on the desk. The betrayal hidden between the lines. Alexander had outplayed everyone. Legally. Brilliantly. Ruthlessly.
And when I confronted him, he had simply said, "Business isn't personal, Miss Carter. It's survival."
I hated him from that moment.
So how did I end up here?
The truth was simple.
My father's health collapsed after losing the company. Debt followed. Threats followed. The house we lived in for twenty years was at risk.
Then Alexander made an offer.
A contract marriage.
One year.
In exchange, he would clear every debt and restore my father's medical treatment at the best hospital in the country.
It wasn't romance.
It was negotiation.
And I signed.
I reached the altar and stood in front of him. Up close, he was even more intimidating. Clean jawline. Sharp cheekbones. Eyes that looked like they could see through every lie.
"Relax," he murmured quietly so no one else could hear. "You look like you're walking to your execution."
"Maybe I am," I whispered back.
For the first time, the corner of his lips lifted slightly. Not kindness. Amusement.
The priest began speaking, but his voice faded into the background. My thoughts were louder.
This man had taken everything from me.
And now he was taking my name.
"Do you, Alexander Knight, take—"
"I do."
He didn't hesitate.
Not even for a second.
All eyes turned to me.
This was my last chance.
I could say no. I could run. I could ruin the perfect image of the powerful Alexander Knight in front of the entire city.
But then I imagined my father in that hospital bed.
And I swallowed my pride.
"I do."
Applause exploded across the church.
Cheers. Cameras. Smiles.
Alexander slid the ring onto my finger. It was cold and heavy. Like a reminder.
When he pulled me closer for the ceremonial kiss, his hand rested firmly on my waist. Strong. Possessive.
"Remember our agreement," he whispered against my ear. "In public, you're my perfect wife."
"And in private?" I asked softly.
His eyes darkened slightly.
"In private… we set our own rules."
Then he kissed me.
It wasn't gentle.
It wasn't loving.
It was controlled. Measured. A statement to everyone watching.
The crowd roared in approval.
To them, this was passion.
To me, it was a warning.
Because I knew something Alexander Knight didn't.
He thought this marriage was just business.
He thought I was desperate.
Weak.
Temporary.
But he forgot one thing.
I might have walked down that aisle because I had no choice.
But I was not a woman who surrendered easily.
And if he thought this contract marriage would be simple…
He was about to learn that enemies make the most dangerous wives.