Diana's confrontation 

Diana's POV

The moment I noticed her slip away from the crowd that gathered to honor Mom, I knew it was my chance, the perfect timing. Lila right from time, always had this pathetic way of retreating especially when things got overwhelming—and could be compared to been scared like a little mouse running for cover. Tonight was no different, it was even worst.

I wasted no time in following her with my champagne glass in hand, my heels clicking hard against the staged ballroom floor. The farther we moved away from the crowd, the more the anger bubbled and threatened under my skin. She doesn't anyway deserve this. She doesn't qualify to be with him.

When we managed to finally stay out of earshot, I called her name, my voice obliviously sweet toned to mockery. 

"Well, well, looks like someone is trying so hard to escape her perfect fairytale life," I said, stepping in to block her. "What's going on, Lila? Do I sense someone feeling out of place already?"

She tried to avoid me, but I wasn't having it, I was ready to unleash anger on her. I blocked her path again, raising an eyebrow to challenge her. "Oh no, you're not getting the luxury of running away, not this time. We need to face each other, and it's now!"

"Diana, I did advice you choose a more convenient time, not now," she muttered, her voice low but weary.

"Did you just say not now? Oh, it has to be now and that's final," I snapped, my smirk fading. "Because I can't bear seeing you another second of this meaningless charade." I leaned closer, lowering my voice but maintaining the harshness in its tone. "You're nothing but a joke, Lila. Do you even realize how lucky you're to have this opportunity? Sebastian Knight of all men! And take a look at you—you even have the guts to sulk like a pauper that you are."

She clenched her fists, maybe to punch, but I cared less. I wanted her to at least attack me first, to fight back; I wanted her to say something that would trigger me, something that would lay hands on and justify what I was about doing to her.

"I never asked for this," she muttered.

I laughed out so hard, shaking my head. "Of course, I can remember how everything happened. You always pretend to never want something, don't you? You just position yourself like you are bumbling through life, and somehow, everything falls magically into your lap. It's infuriating to watch, Lila. Real people like me—people who actually put in efforts, who work hard for what they want—we struggle to the point of clawing our way to the top. But yours is different?" I scoffed. "You're always handed the world on a silver platter, and you annoyingly lack the decency to act grateful."

Her jaw dropped, but she backed down. "If you so wanted this that badly, Diana, maybe you should meet your precious mother for a change. She's the one who maniplated and shoved me into this big mess."

"Oh, poor Lila, that's very bad of her." I said sarcastically. "You're always the victim. Always ready to blame someone else for your self afflicted problems. Newsflash: Mom may have helped out in her little way, but you're the one saddened with the burden of wearing that stupid engagement ring."

Her eyes furrowed in anger. "What exactly do you want from me this night, Diana?"

"I want you out of your slumber," I hissed. "I'm sure you don't have the slightest understanding of who Sebastian Knight is? He's everything but a boy you can giggle with over coffee, that's not happening. He's in the forefront of power players, Lila. A king and more. And you? You're just a placeholder."

The words were left hanging with tension in the air between us, it was too heavy and cruel. I saw what looks like pain in her eyes, and for the first time in a while, I felt fulfilled, it was very satisfying. But then, all of a sudden, she did something I never expected—she squared her shoulders and blocked my path, looking me straight in the eye, she made a bold statement.

"If from your description I'm a placeholder, Diana, what exactly does that make you?" she said, her voice firm. "You're standing here, on my big day, wasting your precious time trying to tear me down instead of focusing entirely on your own life. So tell me, judging from this scenario, who's really pathetic between us?"

Her words came unexpectedly, and it hit me harder than I'd like to admit, but I covered it up immediately. Instead, I just laughed at it again. It was a cold, hollow sound. "Oh, naive Lila. You're terribly naive, it's almost endearing to watch. Sebastian doesn't and will never love you. He doesn't even notice you. You're just a pawn for playing games."

"And yet, you're foolishly standing here, and of all things, jealous of a pawn," she shot back immediately.

I opened my mouth wide to respond, but I was shocked as nothing came out. She had me cornered at the wrong angle, and I don't appreciate it.

So I did played smarter, by doing what I always do when it seems I'm losing—I headed for the kill. I moved closer to her , and whisper to her. "You're definitely going to fail, Lila. You're known for messing things up, and this won't be any different. And when you do just as you will definitely do, I'll be kind enough to be right here, ready to pick up the pieces of you."

Before she could respond with her venomous words, I turned and took to my heels and walked away, ensuring to hold my head high. But with that, as I rejoined the party, I still had the feeling that something wasn't right. 

She's so foolish that she's going to ruin everything, I reasoned bitterly. And somehow, she'll in no time surface out on top.

Lila's POV

The horrible car ride to Sebastian's mansion was eerily quieter than would be compared to a funeral procession. I was lost as I stared out the window, trying so hard to maintain my breathing and keep it steady. My heart was fractured, the feeling was like one locked up in a cage, and of course the key cruelly thrown into a bottomless pit. The wedding came so fast, a blur of few seconds, with intended forced smiles for the cameras, the hollow and dry exchange of vows, and the overwhelming feeling of been doomed. 

Now, at the detriment of my happiness, I was here, driving to a place that I don't know, a stranger's house. No, I corrected myself bitterly in my head, it's my husband's house.

Sebastian sat like a statue beside me, his face with the appearance of one carved out of stone. His focus didn't shift from his phone, it was a clear indication that I don't exist in his world of fame. I stole a glance at him, hoping that he would at least give me some acknowledgment, but all I got was nothing far from what he was known for, cold, impenetrable wall. 

The mansion stood gigantically few meters away. It was an intimidating structure shrouded in the blinding darkness of the night. Its towering gates opened slowly on its own accord as we approach, and I felt a cold shiver on my body. This wasn't anyway close to a home. It was a fortress—a prison where nurtured emotions survives no death. 

When the car finally came to a halt, Sebastian moved out first, not even bothering to spare a glance on me. I followed reluctantly, weakly clutching the hem of my heavy dress as I climbed the high steps. The butler was already stationed close by, and he opened the door, bowing slightly.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Knight," he said all smiles. 

I managed to spare him a weak nod, unsure if I should put him in order. Mrs. Knight. The title felt very strange, just like being forced into an outfit.

Sebastian didn't make any effort to introduce me to his workers, no one of his household or show me around to my new environment. He simply walked ahead, taking long strides as he walked through the grand hallway. I hurried at a great pace to keep up, feeling small like a lost puppy trailing behind after its owner.

"This will serve as your room," he said as a formality, stopping just in front of a door.

Your room, he said. Not our room instead. I shouldn't have expected much from him, nothing should surprise me at this point, but the words still stung no matter how hard I tried.

"Note that dinner will be served at eight. I'll be busy right in my office. Don't think of disturbing me," he added before turning and taking his leave. 

I stared blankly at his retreating figure, my mouth ajar, and closing like a fish forced out of water. Don't think of disturbing me? I wanted to scream my lungs out. I'm your lawful married wife, not a roommate! But the words refused seeing the day's light, but stayed lodged in my throat.