Billion dollar adventure: Meeting Mr arrogant

Chapter 5 : A Wedding of Convenience

The grand ballroom was adorned with glittering chandeliers, cascading floral arrangements, and the finest linens that money could buy. Everywhere Lucy looked, there were flashes of gold, white, and champagne, like a scene straight out of a royal fairytale. But to her, it felt like a gilded prison. Every aspect of this wedding had been orchestrated down to the smallest detail, from the designer dress she wore to the imported orchids that lined the aisle. It was a spectacle meant to impress, to showcase wealth and power, and to make headlines for weeks to come. But at the center of it all, Lucy felt like nothing more than a prop.

She had been flown in two days prior to the ceremony to be fitted for the gown—a custom-made creation from one of the world’s top designers. It was beautiful, no doubt, with intricate lace detailing and a long, flowing train, but Lucy had felt a strange detachment as she stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. The dress didn’t feel like hers; it didn’t represent who she was. It was simply part of the performance, a costume in the elaborate charade Richard Devereaux—*Mr. Arrogant*—had crafted for her.

Lucy’s feet felt heavy as she stood at the entrance to the grand hall, where hundreds of guests sat waiting for the ceremony to begin. The faces in the crowd blurred together—celebrities, dignitaries, billionaires from across the globe, all brought here for this event. She had never felt more out of place in her life. Her hands clenched tightly around the bouquet, her knuckles turning white as she took a shaky breath, her heart racing in her chest.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She wasn’t supposed to be marrying a man she didn’t love, a man who was using her for reasons she still didn’t fully understand. But she had no choice. Richard had her backed into a corner. He owned her now, just as he had promised that day in the bakery when he’d blackmailed her into this arrangement.

The wedding march began to play, and Lucy’s legs moved mechanically, as though her body was acting of its own accord. She tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other as she walked down the aisle, each step taking her closer to the man she had come to despise. The smile plastered on her face felt foreign, unnatural, but she knew the cameras were watching. Every moment was being documented for the glossy magazines that would soon feature their “fairytale wedding.”

When Lucy finally reached the altar, her gaze locked with Richard’s. He was as handsome as ever, in that cold, unattainable way. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his sharp features set in an expression of triumph. He wore a black tuxedo, tailored to perfection, and as always, he exuded confidence, power, and control.

To the outside world, they were a perfect match—both beautiful, both poised. But beneath the surface, Lucy was suffocating. She could feel the weight of the vows she was about to take, the promises she didn’t want to make.

The officiant began to speak, his voice droning on as he recited the familiar words of a wedding ceremony. Lucy’s mind drifted, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine what her life would have been like if things had been different. If she had fallen in love with someone who cared for her, someone who wanted her for who she was, not as a tool or a trophy. But that wasn’t her reality. Instead, she stood next to a man who had manipulated and cornered her into this union.

“Do you, Richard Devereaux, take Lucy to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do,” Richard’s voice rang out, steady and clear, with no hesitation. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction, as though he had just closed another business deal.

“And do you, Lucy, take Richard Devereaux to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Lucy felt the words catch in her throat. For a split second, she considered saying no, right there in front of everyone. She considered fleeing, running down the aisle and out of the building, leaving this nightmare behind. But the image of her aunt flashed in her mind—her aunt who had sacrificed so much for her, who had given Lucy a home, who had raised her with love. If Lucy walked away now, it would all be for nothing. The bakery would be gone, and so would her aunt’s dreams.