Chapter 4: The Wedding Without Love

The morning of her wedding, Amira sat in front of an ornate mirror in a luxurious hotel suite, staring at the stranger reflected back at her. The dress she wore was breathtaking—pure white satin with delicate lace sleeves, a dress any bride would dream of. But to Amira, it felt like a costume, a disguise for a role she never auditioned for.

Her fingers trembled as she touched the veil resting on her shoulders. She was getting married today. Not for love, not for happiness, but because of a contract that had sealed her fate.

A knock on the door startled her. Jordan's assistant, Claire, stepped inside, her expression composed and professional. "Mr. Carter is ready. It's time to leave."

Amira's stomach twisted. She took one last look at herself before standing. "Let's go."

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City Hall: A Marriage of Convenience

The ceremony was held in a private hall—no grand church, no floral decorations, no friends or family. It was a transaction, not a celebration.

Jordan stood at the altar, exuding power in a sharp black suit, his expression unreadable. He barely acknowledged her as she walked toward him, her steps slow and uncertain.

The officiant cleared his throat, beginning the vows.

"Do you, Jordan Carter, take Amira Hassan to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Jordan didn't hesitate. "I do."

Amira's breath hitched. This was real. The weight of her decision pressed against her chest.

The officiant turned to her. "And do you, Amira Hassan, take Jordan Carter to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Her heart pounded. She wanted to run. But where would she go? Back to her father's house, where she was nothing more than a commodity to be sold?

Swallowing her fear, she whispered, "I do."

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

No kiss. No lingering gazes. Just silence.

Jordan reached for her hand, slipping a simple yet expensive diamond ring onto her finger. The cool metal felt heavier than it should.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Carter," the officiant announced.

The words felt hollow.

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A Cold Beginning

After signing the marriage certificate, Jordan turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Let's go."

He led her outside, where a sleek black car waited. The driver opened the door, and she hesitated before sliding in. Jordan followed, sitting beside her, but he didn't say a word.

The ride was silent, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Amira glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He looked unaffected, as if today was just another business deal.

Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, she asked, "What now?"

Jordan turned his gaze toward her, his blue eyes cold yet assessing. "Now, you move into my house. We play our roles in public. And when the time comes, you fulfill your end of the contract."

His words sent a shiver down her spine.

She was officially Mrs. Carter.

But she had never felt more alone.