Bound by Fate, Freed by Love

Chapter 6 Bound by Vows

The doors of the grand hall opened slowly, revealing the bride and groom, each standing on opposite sides. Amara took a deep breath, steadying herself as she prepared to step into a future she had never envisioned. The weight of her bridal gown seemed heavier with every passing second as if it carried the burden of the decision she had made.

The soft hum of music echoed through the hall, blending with the whispers of the guests who had gathered to witness the union. Amara's eyes flickered across the sea of faces, but they lingered for just a moment too long on one figure standing near the front—Fidel.

Her brother-in-law stood tall, his expression unreadable, but his presence sent a wave of unease crashing through her. There was no mistaking the subtle tension that hung in the air whenever Fidel was near, a constant reminder of the complexities that had led to this marriage. Though he wore a smile, his eyes carried a depth of emotion that made Amara's stomach twist.

As Amara moved forward, every step felt like a countdown to a moment she couldn't undo. She could feel the weight of the stares, the murmurs of admiration for her beauty, but all of it felt hollow. This was not the wedding of her dreams—this was a transaction.

On the other side of the hall, Samar approached as well, his face as calm and composed as ever. He held his head high, his gaze focused ahead, making no effort to acknowledge the whispers or the longing glances from the guests. Though they had spoken in private, Samar's demeanour remained distant, almost indifferent.

Their parents were already seated, their expressions a mixture of pride and contentment. Amara's father, one of the most renowned investors and businessmen in the country, sat with his usual air of authority, his eyes sharp and analytical even in this personal moment. Beside him, Amara's mother smiled warmly, her eyes soft with emotion, though she cast the occasional glance at her husband, perhaps sensing the subtle tension in his otherwise calm demeanour. Across the aisle, Samar's father, the chairman of the Saad Group, looked on with a quiet sense of satisfaction. The union between the two families was exactly what they had envisioned—solidifying ties and protecting their legacy.

The ceremony began, and Amara barely heard the words of the officiant. Her thoughts drifted between the tension of the moment and the gravity of the vows she was about to make. She felt like a spectator in her own life, watching from afar as events unfolded, beyond her control.

Samar stood beside her, silent and stoic. There was no warmth in his presence, no shared glances of affection or understanding. They were doing this for the sake of their families, for the sake of duty. And that knowledge alone left a bitter taste in Amara's mouth.

As the officiant's words filled the room, Amara's heart raced. Finally, the moment arrived—the moment where they would become husband and wife.

"Do you, Samar Saad, take Amara Shayan to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the officiant asked, his voice echoing in the grand hall.

Samar's response was as steady as ever. "I do."

The words cut through the air like a knife, final and unyielding.

Amara swallowed hard as the officiant turned to her.

"And do you, Amara Shayan, take Samar Saad to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

For a brief moment, time seemed to stop. She felt the weight of every eye on her, every whisper lingering in the air. She could feel Fidel's gaze burning into her back, the invisible tension pulling at her like a thread about to snap.

She took a deep breath, her voice barely steady. "I do."

With those two simple words, it was done. Samar and Amara were now bound together, husband and wife in the eyes of the world, though the reality of their marriage was anything but conventional.

The applause that erupted around them was deafening, but it felt distant, like background noise to the storm of emotions swirling inside her. As they exchanged rings, the gold band felt foreign and cold against her skin, a symbol of a marriage built on necessity, not love.

Samar glanced at her briefly, giving a small nod of acknowledgement. But even at that moment, there was no warmth in his eyes, no connection between them. They were simply two people fulfilling their roles, playing their parts in a larger game.

As they turned to face the guests, the applause continued, but all Amara could feel was the tightening knot of uncertainty in her chest.

She had become Samar's wife—but at what cost?