The Marriage Swap || ON HOLD TILL SEPTEMBER

2 | 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐

Everyone here has a story. Like how Kai Park was the darling son of a chaebol family. But once his father got destroyed for not doing as asked, Kai ended up here. Perhaps my story starts with a mother being separated from her daughter the moment the child is born. . .

I think that's all I'm willing to speak for today. I only relented to the likes of dictating this blasphemy because Kai Park is annoying when he ignores me.

- from the journal entries of Daisy.

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☘︎ Eᴠᴇ Kᴀᴠɪɴsᴋʏ ☘︎

There's a fact people need to know about me; I always do things without thinking twice and find myself in compromising situations.

Like right about now.

It happens in a crescendo of motions; me stumbling into the ginormous tent in a rush, pushing aside the curtains and nearly falling face-front on the red carpet laid out over the sand. From both sides of the carpet, every guest within their assigned table on the parallel seating arrangement, turn their heads to look at me as if they'd been waiting for this moment.

I blink, trying to look through the blurriness caused by my veil and righting myself steady on my feet. People wait with batted breath and a slow, confused frown starts forming between my brows before realization strikes me in the cord.

I entered through the front entrance instead of the back. . .I'm in a bridal gown. . .they think I am the bride. Fudging neurons!

My hands instinctively go to the edge of my veil, with the full intent to lift it and let the onlookers know that I'm not the bride they'd been anticipating for. But I hear the telltale of a car engine shutting off, doors slamming and heavy sets of footsteps pounding closer.

My fingers halt. I chance a glance at the wedding setup and consider my options. Either I reveal myself and get thrown out of here and into the waiting arms of Michael's goons. Or either I pretend for a little while more until the goons snoop around and leave for good.

I choose the option I think is wiser.

Walking ahead on the carpet, I'm up the aisle before I realize, standing in front of the supposed groom while my mind is elsewhere and ears perked for any sign of the goons leaving.

I zone out as the priest goes on about the importance of wedding vows and what not. My eyes on the other hand, stay trained on the shadowy silhouettes of the bulky men circling outside the tent. What are they stalling so much in the sunlight for? Photosynthesis?!

A warm, larger hand gripping my particularly smaller and delicate ones, jolts me out of my head to the present. Before I can process what's happening, a diamond ring is slipped onto my ring finger and those warm hands let mine go, the fleeting touch of his skin against mine burning even after the loss of contact.

The priest passes me a ring next. Huh?

My eyes widen, catching up on the events. Oh, electrons. This has gone too far.

"Look," I start to speak, trying to explain the situation to the groom, "I am not-"

"Check in here!" A loud, boisterous echo of a man's order cuts through mine.

My head whips towards the tent's entrance to find one of Michael's goons standing there. The giant-sized man's head cranes around trying to find the person he's been looking for. Aka me. His gaze skid past me without giving a second thought though and I let out an internal sigh. Thank Einstein I still have my veil down, and thank Newton that men are dumb enough to think every wedding gown looks the same. Which here lead the goons to think I'm the groom's bride.

The priest interrupts the goon, "Excuse me, son. There's a wedding ceremony going on here."

"Then stop it! We're looking for someone!" The goon yells, like hulk declaring war. His comrades enter the tent behind him too. Oh, how wonderful my luck is.

I feel my heartbeat accelerate. It isn't like I'm completely afraid of being caught. If worst-case scenario calls for it, I can manage. But. . .I'll never be able to find out what I intend to.

"Proceed, father." The voice that speaks is like warm honey sliding down your spine and the sensation of dipping yourself in chilly icebergs at the same time, velvety yet so. . .cold.

I can't make out the groom's facial features clearly because of my hazy sight, but I know he's tall enough to tower over me, and I know it's him who commanded those words.

The priest clasps his hands in peril, but chooses to comply, "Child, put the ring on the groom's finger."

Michael's goon yells yet again, "I said stop! We need to search!"

"Search in silence then." The groom doesn't even turn his head their way. His voice drops an octave though, even more icy than before, "But if you interrupt one more time, I'll make sure each of you only see the darkness of a prison cell till the day you die."

A hush falls over the place, everyone going so dramatically silent that a drop of a pin could sound like nails scrapping down a blackboard. Even Michael's goons don't show their goony-ness and start a fight, like they believe him, like it's not a threat but a statement of finalty. Who in the atoms is the groom?

"Fine." Michael's guard relents.

The priest lets out a sigh of relief, fixing his focus back on his task. I quickly slide the ring onto the groom's hand without really touching his skin.

As though all the priest wants is to get done with this accursed wedding and leave, he jumps straight to the point, "Do you, Reya Amioli, take Axel, to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you apart?"

This is stupid. I'm stupid. But I'm also in a rope-around-my-neck situation here. So, even though I have no idea who Reya Amioli or Axel is, internally cringing, I say the words.

"I do."

I can feel the groom's inquisitive gaze sliding over my veiled face, trying to catch my features. I stop breathing for a second. If he suspects I'm not his bride and I'm revealed. . .Michael's goons are still searching in here. . .

Thankfully, the priest hurries over to the man in question, "Do you, Axel Hernandez, take Reya, to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you apart?"

"I do." The emotionless tone of his words could freeze over an entire kingdom.

But wait, hold on, Axel Hern-

"By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife." The priest looks more happy then ever, probably since he finally gets to run out of here with his tail between his legs now, "You may kiss your bride."

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the events that played out, when the groom gently lifts my veil to expose my face for him and everyone to see. No no no.

"Qui diable êtes-vous-"

Before he can even utter the complete statement in that oddly intoxicating french accent, I pull his head down to mine and smash our lips together. I let my veil fall back down over both our heads, encasing us in a tulle curtain so no one else can see our faces starkly.

The last thing I remember is grey eyes like brewing storm widening in startlement as I finally, finally take in who I'm kissing.

Mother of genetics! This can't be happening!

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Qui diable êtes-vous :
(in french) Who the hell are you?

Eve be like : I swear I don't like the drama. The drama likes me.

Lmao so why do you think she's in a state of shock upon seeing Axel's face? Does she know him?👀

What will happen now?💃