SERA POV's :
Adorned in a Custom Vera Wang gown, I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, a
portrait of forced elegance for a husband whose name I didn't even know.
The notion of a bride unaware of her groom's name may seem absurd, but in my case, it was the result of being coerced into an alliance by my uncle and aunt.
Uncles and aunts are supposed to be like parents, caretakers, but not in my case.
They harbored an inexplicable hatred for me, one that remained unanswered.
At 22, I found myself thrust into marriage, a consequence of my parents' cold-blooded murder, leaving me a billion-dollar fortune.
My uncle's blackmail hung over me – agree to the alliance or risk losing my childhood home.
Standing there in that exquisite gown, I harbored deep sadness.
While most brides dream of their happiest day, mine was clouded by the singular goal of avenging my parents.
This marriage was nothing more than a deal to secure my house.
I cared little about my uncle's agenda because, as soon as I reclaimed my home,
I vowed to unearth my parents' murderer and exact revenge.
Once a princess with the kindest heart, I endured immense hardship from my aunt and uncle after my parents' death.
Physical, emotional, and mental abuse ceased at 18 when I inherited the family business, rising to become the youngest female CEO. Empowered by my newfound position,
I promised to give marriage a chance, recalling my mom's words about the power a life partner could provide.
Now, here I was, pledging before a man potentially in his 80s.
Despite the brevity of the union, the prospect of having someone by my side appealed to me.
Before taking vows, I made a personal pledge – to find my parents' killer and ensure they suffered as my parents did.
Amidst these internal reflections, a knock interrupted my thoughts, Aunt Lorraine's voice urging my readiness "are u ready yet girl."
"I am," I replied and walked out, muttering to myself, "Here goes nothing," as I descended the aisle.
Tears welled in my eyes, a poignant moment devoid of the imagined joy.
I wished my parents were there to walk me down the aisle.
As I peered through my veil, the figure at the end of the aisle became clear , he was the last person i expected to be standing at the end of the aisle -Darain Moretti, the only living child of my godparents.
He had transformed into a robust man, as handsome as I remembered from my childhood crush.
Thoughts swirled in my mind as I reached the end, and there he stood, hand extended.
After a moment's contemplation, I accepted it, and the priest began the ceremony, marking the commencement of an unexpected chapter in my life.
YOU ARE READING
"A Dance of Deception and Desire"
Romance"It's not about a dollhouse, Darain. It's about a childhood stolen, a name stripped away. You don't understand what it's like to lose everything." Darain, his anger rising, retorted, "You think I don't know how to lose everything? Are you mad? I lo...
