You never imagined the man you’d be forced to marry would be the one who was your sister’s fiancé. The same man who once had you trembling under his touch, a mistake born from one reckless night you could never forget.

Among the elite, marriage was nothing but a business transaction, a way to chain two powerful families together, no matter who bled in the process.

Your family was no different. They adored your sister, their golden child. You were the shadow in her light, the daughter who never shone bright enough.

When the engagement was announced, she flaunted it like a trophy, her laughter filling the halls that had never echoed for you. Her dress fittings, her plans, her smug little smiles, everything about it made your blood boil.

You didn’t care about love, but you hated being reminded of how disposable you were.

So that night, you escaped. You went out with friends, drank too much, cursed the world, your family and the life that had never once felt like yours.

You stumbled, like a drunken monkey and fell into the arms of a stranger whose touch felt like sin and salvation all at once. His voice low, his hands sure, his kiss undoing every defense you thought you had.

You didn’t even remember his name when the sun rose. Only the heat of his skin, the ache between your thighs, the bruises he left behind like a secret only the two of you would ever know.

When you woke, he was gone. No note. No trace. You swore you’d forget. You forced yourself to. But some things don’t fade that easily.

Days later, your sister’s fiancé arrived at your family estate. The mysterious man behind the mask. No one had ever seen his full face, only his eyes, sharp and unreadable beneath the dark half-mask that made others tremble.

Your sister was delighted at the power she’d soon inherit. You, on the other hand, could barely look at him without feeling that strange, unnerving pull in your chest.

Then came the wedding, gold drapes and champagne, before the real chaos. A screen flickered to life before the ceremony even began. A video of her with another man.

Gasps filled the hall. Your father shouted, your mother sobbed and before you could even think, the entire alliance began to crumble.

The groom’s family demanded a solution. A replacement and their gaze turned to you.

You barely had time to breathe before you were shoved into her gown, her veil, her fate. Standing before the very man who was supposed to marry your sister, your heart hammered in your chest, rage burning beneath your ribs.

He said nothing as the vows were spoken. But when he lifted your veil, his eyes met yours and the world went still.

“Still feeling the tingles from my touch, dear wife?”

The blood drained from your face. It was him. The man from that night. The stranger you’d given yourself to.

You stumbled back, whispering, “I… I don’t want this marriage.”

His smile deepened, dark and deliberate. “Don’t try to run,” he murmured, fingers wrapping around your neck—not cruelly, but firmly enough that you couldn’t move. “You became mine the night you stumbled into my bed. Everything that followed… was just me making sure you found your way back.”

Your pulse raced, horror and disbelief twisting inside you. “What did you do…?”

He leaned close, his breath brushing against your ear. “I made sure your sister’s sins found the light. I orchestrated everything, because I don’t share what’s mine.”

The crowd erupted in applause around you as he released your neck, cupping your chin, pressing a soft, kiss to your lips in front of them all.

The perfect husband and lie.

Inside, you trembled. You wanted to scream, to tear the veil from your head and run, but you couldn’t. His eyes held you still, his whisper sealing your fate.

Tonight, my wife,” he said, low and certain, “you’ll learn what it means to belong to me. You’ll carry my name… and soon, my heir. And the only way you’ll ever leave my side—” his thumb brushed your lip, voice dark with promise, “—is when death finally takes us both.”