The candles burned down by the time the cathedral doors were locked from the inside. There was no music, you could hear the thud of Vladislav Markov’s boots against the stone as he paced the foyer.

He had found her an hour before the ceremony starting, not out of love, but because a kidnapped bride would have been a stain on his family reputation. He cleared the warehouse with violence that left his knuckles split and now the white silk of your gown was ruined, stained with the gray dust of the floor and the copper of your blood.

Vladislav didn't offer a hand to help you up from the velvet bench where you sat shivering. He turned to the line of servants hovering in the foyer,

"You have two hours," he snapped, checking his watch without glancing at the blood on his cuffs.

"Clean the wounds. I don't care if you have to use the finest silk in the city to bandage her, do it fast, and do it perfectly."

"Call the boutique on the corner. Tell them I want the ivory lace gown from the window delivered in ten minutes. If they’re closed, break the glass and leave a check. She will not stand at that altar in rags."

You looked up at him, searching for a flicker of the man who had just pulled you from the dark warehouses. But Vladislav was already turning away, his mind back on the clock and the guests waiting in the ballroom.

"Vladislav..." you called out to him

"Don't," he said, stopping at the door but not turning around. "The reputation of two families is currently bleeding out on this floor. My men will stand guard at the door while they dress you. Eat something. Drink the jasmine tea I ordered. In two hours, you will walk into that cathedral and you will look like someone who has never known a day of fear."

He stepped out, the oak doors thudding shut behind him.

Two hours later, the cathedral bells began to toll through the midnight air. The doors were thrown open, and Raeema stood there, draped in fresh ivory lace that masked the bandages beneath. Vladislav stood at the altar, To everyone, they were heirs to rival empires, a match made in a boardroom to end a blood feud.

As you reached him, your breath hitched, a sound that echoed too loudly in the hollow. He paused, his jaw tightening as he turned to face her. He didn't touch your skin, simply was adjusting the heavy veil, pulling it forward to shroud the bruising on your neck.

"They failed. You belong to a different monster now. Act like it."

He offered his arm. You took it, hand shaking against his sleeve.

The wedding continued, without a care.