The world revered him, and they feared him in equal measure.

Henry Larson had built an empire, his power unmatched. With a face sculpted to perfection and eyes like frozen steel, he was untouchable. Love? A lie. A weakness he had abandoned the day Vivian Hart shattered him with betrayal, deceit, and humiliation.

Now he was shackled to her sister—a cruel joke of fate. A woman bearing the same cursed name. A woman he would never, could never, allow into his heart.

As they stepped into his mansion, still clad in wedding attire, he finally looked at her. Hope flickered in her eyes. Foolish. Naïve.

He stepped closer, towering over her, his voice low, lethal. “Whatever dream you have, kill it now. You are nothing to me. This marriage is nothing. If I could erase you, I would.”

She flinched, but he didn’t stop. “I will never love you. Never want you. You think you can change me? Fix me? Don’t. I am beyond saving, and you…” His lips curled in disgust. “You are the last person I would ever let near me.”

Silence stretched between them. Her fingers clenched the fabric of her dress, but he had no sympathy, no kindness to offer.

“I don’t need a wife. I don’t need you. If you’re smart, you’ll stay out of my way.” His voice dropped lower. “And never, not even for a second, get your hopes up.”

With that, he turned and disappeared into his room, locking the door behind him.

And just like that, their marriage began in ruins