Chapter 2
Elara's POV
I had enough of smiling. My cheeks ached from holding the same polite expression for hours, and I was tired of nodding at strangers, pretending like everything about this wedding felt normal. It didn't. Nothing about this felt right.
My eyes drifted toward Sebastian again. He stood a few steps away, surrounded by people who looked important, speaking to him with respect and caution. And yet, he didn't smile. Not even once. It was his wedding, people had come all the way to greet him, and still he looked completely indifferent. Cold. Detached. Like none of this mattered to him.
Would it really hurt him to smile?
A quiet unease settled in my chest as I watched him. He was a capo of the Devereux family. Everyone knew what that meant, even if they didn't say it out loud. Power, violence, control. Still, seeing it in front of me felt different.
That's when my gaze dropped slightly, and I noticed it.
A gun.
Attached to his belt, not fully hidden, but not openly displayed either. Just there. Like it belonged.
My breath caught instantly. Who brings a gun to their own wedding?
Then again… this was Sebastian Devereux.
A memory surfaced, something I had once overheard in hushed voices. They said he had shot a man in the middle of a meeting. No warning, no anger, no hesitation. Just pulled the trigger and continued talking like nothing had happened.
Looking at him now, calm and composed, it didn't feel like a rumor anymore. It felt real. And that thought alone made my chest tighten with fear.
Before I could think further, the announcement for the first dance echoed through the hall.
My heart dropped immediately.
Of course.
I barely had time to prepare myself before he started walking toward me. Each step was calm, steady, controlled. He stopped right in front of me, his presence overwhelming in a way I couldn't explain.
"Come," he said.
Just one word, firm and direct.
I placed my hand in his, trying to ignore how cold mine felt compared to his. The moment he pulled me closer, my breath hitched. His hand settled on my waist, firm and unyielding, holding me in place as if I had nowhere else to go.
The music started, slow and heavy, filling the air around us.
He moved effortlessly, guiding me through each step like it was second nature. I followed, focusing on not making a mistake, not embarrassing myself. For a few seconds, I kept my eyes down, trying to avoid the intensity of the moment.
But when I finally looked up, I regretted it instantly.
He was already looking at me.
Not casually. Not politely.
Intently.
Like he was trying to understand something about me.
My chest tightened under that gaze.
"Relax," he said quietly.
"I'm fine," I replied, even though it wasn't true.
His fingers pressed slightly against my waist, just enough to remind me how close we were, how easily he controlled every movement. The moment stretched longer than it should have, heavy with something I couldn't explain.
Then the music ended.
And he stepped away immediately, as if none of it mattered.
After the dance, I found myself talking to a few people, most likely his relatives. They smiled politely, asked questions, and spoke in soft, controlled tones. It all felt too perfect, too rehearsed.
As I answered them, a strange feeling crept over me.
Like I was being watched.
Slowly, I glanced up.
And there he was.
Sebastian stood across the room, his gaze fixed directly on me. He wasn't even pretending to look elsewhere. His eyes were steady, focused, and unsettling.
My fingers tightened around the glass in my hand.
Why was he staring at me like that?
I looked away quickly, but the feeling didn't leave. It lingered, heavy and uncomfortable, like his gaze was still on me.
"You're the virgin Mary he's marrying?"
The voice startled me.
I turned to see a woman standing in front of me. She was beautiful, confident, and clearly not pleased. Her eyes moved over me slowly, judging every detail.
"I'm his girlfriend," she said before I could even respond.
For a moment, I couldn't process her words.
Girlfriend?
Then why was I here?
"And you," she continued, her tone mocking, "are never going to have a peaceful life with him. I can guarantee that."
My throat went dry as I struggled to respond. "Who are you?" I asked hesitantly.
She smiled, but there was no kindness in it.
"You'll find out."
She leaned closer, her voice lowering just enough for only me to hear.
"Do you know what happens tonight?"
My heart started pounding uncontrollably.
"He's rough," she said casually.
My fingers turned cold.
"Tomorrow morning, they'll come looking for proof. The sheets. Blood. To confirm their perfect bride was untouched."
I felt like I couldn't breathe.
"You won't enjoy it," she added. "And he won't care."
Then she straightened, her expression calm again, as if she hadn't just shattered something inside me.
"Good luck."
And just like that, she walked away.
I stood there, frozen.
If she was his girlfriend, then why had he married me?
Why ruin my life like this?
My thoughts spiraled, refusing to settle, and one word kept repeating in my mind.
Tonight.
My stomach twisted painfully. I had heard about such rituals before, always in whispers, always as something distant and unreal.
But now it was real.
And it was waiting for me.
My hands trembled slightly as I tried to steady myself.
"Elara!"
I turned quickly at the sound of my name. Lydia and Julian were walking toward me, both looking concerned.
"You don't look okay," Lydia said, taking my hand.
Julian studied my face carefully. "What happened?"
"I'm fine," I said quickly.
Too quickly.
Julian sighed softly. "You're a terrible liar."
I tried to smile, but it didn't reach my eyes.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Voices, faces, laughter—it all faded into the background. Nothing felt real anymore.
All I could think about was tonight.
That room.
That expectation.
Him.
My eyes drifted across the hall one last time, and just like before, Sebastian was already looking at me.
That same unreadable expression on his face.