The Wedding Begins Youll be my wife in less than an hour, Rafael whispers into Elenas ear, his voice like dark silk, almost affectionate, but she knows better.
The words are a command, not a promise, and they send a shiver down her spine that she cant shake off.
Elena stiffens but doesnt let him see it.
She keeps her posture perfect, hands gripping the bouquet tighter than she means to.
The wedding dress is heavy, its layers a prison shes trapped in, and with every second that passes, she feels it tightening around her chest.
The cold, oppressive weight of the life shes about to be locked into.
Her heart is racing, but her face remains calm.
She forces a smile, one that barely touches the corners of her lips.
She has to appear as though shes going along with everything, as though shes accepting this fate, even though inside, everything is screaming to get out.
This is the moment.

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Her fingers curl tighter around the hidden detonator tucked within her bouquet.
If this is going to work, she has to wait for the perfect moment.
Timing is everything.
If she does this too soon, everything will be ruined.
If she waits too long, it might be too late.
You look beautiful, Elena, Rafael murmurs, brushing his hand along her back as if he has every right to touch her.
His fingers linger, possessive, controlling, and Elena wants nothing more than to pull away, but she doesnt.
She cant.
Not yet.
The church is quiet, too quiet, save for the low hum of whispers from the few guests already seated.
Elena can feel the tension in the air.
The guests, those who have come for the spectacle, the show of wealth, power, and control that this wedding represents, dont know the truth.
They dont know how far Elena has fallen.
She barely even notices the guests.
All her focus is on Rafael, and the men standing around them.
His security team is everywhere, watching, guarding.
Their eyes are sharp, scanning for any hint of betrayal.
She knows theyre watching her every move, knowing that one misstep, one moment of weakness, will expose her attempt to escape.
But shes careful.
Shes learned to be careful.
The ceremony is about to begin.
The officiant is already standing at the altar, his eyes flicking to her nervously.
Hes just a pawn in Rafaels game, and Elena can feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her.
This is it.
She doesnt have a choice anymore.
Once those vows are said, shes trapped.
Forever.
Everything will be perfect, Rafael says, his breath warm against her ear.
His hands linger on her waist for a second too long, and she has to fight the urge to pull away.
Hes too close.
Ill be yours, Rafael, she replies, the words tasting bitter in her mouth.
But its the only thing she can say.
She cant fight him now.
Not yet.
Not with so many eyes on her.
Rafael smiles like a man whos already won, like hes already claimed his prize.
And in many ways, he has.
Hes got her here, in front of him, at the altar, where shes supposed to swear herself to him.
The tension in her body is palpable.
Shes standing there, poised, ready to do what she must, when her eyes catch somethingsomeoneslipping through the back of the church.
She stiffens, almost imperceptibly, and her heart jumps into her throat.
Theres no mistaking the tall figure weaving through the crowd.
Its Alexander.
Her breath hitches, and she feels a rush of hope flood her chest.
She didnt think hed make it in time, but there he is, hidden among the guests.
Hes watching her, his eyes locked on hers, and for the first time since she walked into this church, she feels a sense of relief.
Hes here.
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