The wedding

THE WEDDING HALL

The grand hotel was decorated lavishly, but Seraphina felt nothing. She didn't have the energy to think anymore. She was empty. She didn't have anyone from her side to attend the wedding. She didn't even tell Laura.

But on the other hand, Dorian had his entire family. She has met them a few times over the tense family dinner he had taken her to where she was heavily judged all the time by everyone.

She sat alone in a quiet room, wearing a simple knee-length white dress, waiting for Dorian. Waiting for the man she had just sold her soul to.

Her fingers trembled as she checked her phone for the hundredth time.

No messages. No calls.

She had been waiting for hours. Her heart pounded as she dialed his number again. Straight to voicemail.

A lump formed in her throat. Was he… not coming?

Just then, a soft clink of glass caught her attention. She turned to see a waiter holding out a glass of red wine.

Red…her once favourite color… But something happened in the past which made her keep herself far away from this colour. She shook her head to push these thoughts away.

Why did she suddenly remember that? She had buried those memories long ago.

"From the love of your life," the waiter said with a polite smile, breaking the chain of her thoughts

Seraphina frowned. "Dorian sent this?"

The waiter only smiled before walking away, leaving her confused. Hesitantly, she took the glass. Her hands were shaking so badly she nearly spilled it. She took a sip as she needed it to go through arrangements.

A few minutes later, warmth spread through her chest. Then, suddenly, the world tilted even before she could understand what was happening. Her vision blurred. The edges of the room darkened.

She tried to stand, but her knees buckled.

As she collapsed in someone's arms, the last thing she heard was a soft whisper of a woman in her ear.

"You'll thank me later."

_____

THE NEXT MORNING

A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed through Seraphina's skull as she slowly stirred awake. A groan slipped from her lips as she shifted beneath unfamiliar silk sheets. The scent of crisp linen and something distinctly masculine filled her senses.

Her eyes fluttered open.

This was not her apartment…!

Panic surged through her chest as she bolted upright, only for the sharp headache to crash down on her. She winced, pressing her palm against her temple. The dim light filtering through the curtains illuminated a room that was too large, too polished, too expensive to belong to her.

Her breath quickened.

Where the hell was she?

She forced herself to scan the room. Sleek furniture. A leather armchair. A marble coffee table. A massive walk-in closet with tailored suits hanging in perfect order.

Definitely not a hotel.

"What the fuck is going on?!" She breathed out in panic.

Her fingers clutched the silk sheets tighter as she tried to steady her breathing. That's when her gaze landed on the marriage certificate resting on the nightstand.

Her stomach twisted into knots.

Her name was there, in bold, black ink.

Seraphina Vale

But beside it…

Not Dorian Lancaster…

Adrian Thornfield

She blinked. Once. Twice. Her vision swam, and for a moment, she thought she was hallucinating.

Adrian?

Her pulse pounded in her ears. It couldn't be him. It couldn't. Her hands shook as she gripped the document. Her breathing turned shallow as she reread it over and over, her mind rejecting reality.

This was some kind of joke.

A nightmare.

Something wasn't right.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for her phone. She needed answers. She needed-...

She needed Dorian. To get answers.

She dialed his number with shaky hands.

Ring.

Ring.

Voicemail.

Her breath hitched.

She tried again.

Nothing.

"What the hell is happening?" she whispered, gripping the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.

She needed to get out of here. Now.

Pushing off the bed, she swung her legs over the edge and stumbled. Her legs felt weak, her body so sluggish that she almost fell on her knees, like she had been drugged.

The wine.

Her blood ran cold.

Last night, she received a drink. Red wine. From… someone.

A faint whisper echoed in her mind.

"From the love of your life."

A shiver ran down her spine. That wasn't from Dorian. Dorian had never called himself that.

So who the hell…?

It couldn't be HIM. Adrian Thornfield? Thornfield? It's a different person. Who is this man?!

No. Focus.

She needed answers.

She needed to find Dorian.

Grabbing the marriage certificate, her phone, and whatever strength she had left, she staggered toward the door.

___

LANCASTER ENTERPRISES

Seraphina stormed into the towering glass building, her pulse roaring in her ears. People turned to look at her, but she didn't stop. She had one goal.

Dorian Lancaster

She walked past everyone, ignoring everyone. The receptionist at the front desk stood up. "Miss Vale, you can't just-..." She tried stopping but couldn't even finish her sentence as Seraphina glared at her.

"Try and stop me," Seraphina snapped, shoving past her.

The elevator doors slid open, and she stepped in, pressing the button with such force her finger hurt. Her head was still throbbing but she was trying to ignore it. She was still in her "wedding" dress.

The moment the doors reopened, she stepped out into Dorian's sleek, modern office.

And then—

She froze.

Dorian Lancaster stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by executives, laughing, shaking hands - celebrating.

Her stomach twisted as her eyes landed on the banner hanging behind him.

CONGRATULATIONS, DORIAN LANCASTER – THE NEW FACE OF CELESTÉ FASHION HOUSE.

Her breath caught in her throat.

This wasn't happening.

This couldn't be happening.

She forced herself forward, her heart slamming against her ribs. Dorian's smirk widened the second he saw her, as if he had been expecting this moment.

"Ah, my runaway bride," he drawled, sipping from a champagne flute. "Took you long enough."

Runaway bride?

What the fuck was he talking about?!

Seraphina's vision blurred as she caught sight of the contract sitting on his desk.

The contract.

Her contract.

She snatched it up, her hands trembling as she scanned the pages.

Her sketches.

Her designs.

But her name was missing.

Instead, the credit was given solely to Dorian Lancaster.

A sharp pang of nausea hit her.

Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "What is this?"

Dorian's smirk didn't waver. "You really don't remember?"

She shook her head, her breath coming out in short, panicked gasps. "I remember drinking the red wine…" she closed her eyes tightly, forcing herself to remember what happened last night.

But she hit the blank spot. Nothing. She doesn't remember anything.

Something flickered across Dorian's face for half a second. Surprise? Amusement?

Then he chuckled. "Oh, that."

She immediately opened her eyes and looked at him with a frown. Seraphina's blood turned to ice as she couldn't recognize the look on his face. It was filled with cruelty and heartlessness.

He set his glass down and folded his arms. "The white wine you had last night? I spiked it." He admitted it so shamelessly. No regret on his face.

She blinked.

White?

"No," she whispered, her throat closing up. "I drank red wine…" she looked away, trying to wrap her head around everything.

Dorian tilted his head. "No, darling. I sent you white wine."

She was breathless as she looked at him with a frown. Her chest was constricted.

But… she never drank white wine.

So, the wine she drank came from someone else? Someone else wanted to spike her drink as well?

Who?!

A voice echoed in her mind.

"From the love of your life."

A sickening feeling settled into her gut.

Dorian flicked his fingers in front of her face, pulling her back to the present. "Stay with me, darling."

Her breath came out uneven. "You drugged me?"

He shrugged. "Call it a business transaction." He gestured toward the contract. "You signed over your designs willingly, sweetheart."

Her stomach lurched.

"No," she choked out. "You…-" She couldn't complete her sentence when he snatched the paper from her, cutting her off mid sentence. He flipped through the paper until he reached the page where her signature was. He threw the paper in front of her.

"You signed it, Seraphina." He leaned in, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "Your signature is right there."

Her fingers curled into fists. "And what about Elara?"

Dorian let out an exaggerated sigh. "Ah, yes. The sickly little girl. Well…" He grinned. "That's your problem now, isn't it?"

Seraphina's blood boiled.

Dorian took a step closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "You need money, don't you?" His smirk widened. "You should go beg your husband."

She went completely still.

"My…what?" She exclaimed in shock and confusion, that issue has completely slipped her mind.

Dorian smirked, swirling the champagne in his glass. "Yeah, your husband, you might want to meet him. He looked quite important last night." He joked, laughing out a disgusting laugh.

Her pulse stopped.

Adrian.

Adrian Thornfield.

It wasn't HIM. It couldn't be HIM.

But before she could say another word, her phone rang. The hospital's number flashed across the screen. Her heart plummeted. Her body was shaking thinking of all the bad news the call might carry. It's been more than 24 hours since she has last seen Elara.

She pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

A nurse's voice came through. "Miss Vale, it's about Elara. Her condition has worsened."

Seraphina's world shattered. She almost lost her balance and Dorian tried to hold her to help out of instinct. But she immediately took a step back, glaring at him. Even standing near him disgusts her, let alone his touch.

"She needs the surgery immediately?"

She repeated the nurse's words under her breath as the call ended. She stood there, frozen, her mind spiraling into chaos.

She needed money.

She needed help.

And apparently…

She had a husband?

A husband she didn't remember marrying.