The days blurred together in a haze of preparations. Caroline had the wedding logistics under tight control, leaving me with little to do but follow her lead. I went through the motions, trying to ignore the gnawing emptiness inside me. The contract was signed, the wedding was imminent, and my future seemed to stretch out in front of me like a bleak, unending road.
But it was during those quiet moments, alone with my thoughts, that I couldn't stop wondering about Alexander. He was a man of contradictions—ruthless in business, but strangely distant in person. What drove him? What lay beneath that cold exterior? The more I thought about it, the more I realized how little I knew about the man I was about to marry.
It wasn't just his business reputation that intrigued me; it was the mystery surrounding his past. I had heard whispers—rumors that Alexander had built his empire from nothing, that he had clawed his way to the top through sheer determination. But there were also darker stories, tales of a broken family, of tragedies that had shaped him into the man he was today.
I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more, something hidden that could explain why he had agreed to this marriage in the first place. Why had he chosen me? And what did he stand to gain from this arrangement?
Two days before the wedding, I found myself sitting in my father's study, surrounded by the familiar scent of old books and polished wood. My father was out, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a restless curiosity that wouldn't be silenced.
On a whim, I reached for the stack of papers on his desk, hoping to distract myself with anything that didn't involve wedding plans. As I sifted through them, my fingers brushed against an envelope tucked beneath a pile of invoices. It was unmarked, nondescript, but something about it caught my attention.
I pulled it out and hesitated for a moment before opening it. Inside was a single sheet of paper, a newspaper clipping dated several years ago. The headline was stark and unsettling:
"Tragedy Strikes Wu Family: Heiress Found Dead in Apparent Suicide"
My breath caught in my throat as I read the article. It detailed the tragic death of Vivian Wu, Alexander's younger sister, who had been found dead in her apartment under suspicious circumstances. The police had ruled it a suicide, but there were hints of foul play, whispers of family secrets that had never been fully explained.
Vivian Wu. I had never heard her name before, but the story hit me like a punch to the gut. Alexander had lost his sister in the most horrific way possible, and yet there was no mention of her in any of the stories about him. It was as if she had been erased from the narrative, her death just another casualty in his rise to power.
Why had my father kept this article? And why had he never mentioned it to me?
The more I read, the more questions I had. The article hinted at a strained relationship between Vivian and the rest of the Wu family, particularly with their father, a powerful businessman with a reputation for cruelty. But there was nothing concrete, nothing that explained why Alexander had buried this part of his past so deeply.
I knew I shouldn't pry, but I couldn't help myself. This was the first real glimpse I had into the man I was about to marry, and it only deepened the mystery. What had happened to Vivian Wu? And how had her death shaped Alexander into the man he was today?
Later that evening, I couldn't get the article out of my mind. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I needed answers. I couldn't walk down the aisle without understanding who Alexander really was, without knowing the truth about his past.
When the driver arrived to take me to our next meeting, I asked him to take a different route. Instead of heading to the venue, I directed him toward one of Alexander's properties, a secluded estate on the outskirts of the city. I didn't know what I was looking for, but I needed to see where he lived, to understand the world he inhabited.
The estate was as imposing as I had imagined—high walls, iron gates, and a long, winding driveway that led to a grand mansion set back from the road. The driver let me out at the entrance, and I stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of it. This was Alexander's sanctuary, his fortress. And I was about to step inside.
The housekeeper met me at the door, her expression polite but guarded. "Miss Chen, I wasn't expecting you."
"I know," I said, forcing a smile. "I just wanted to see the place before the wedding. Is Mr. Wu here?"
She hesitated, then shook her head. "No, he's out on business. But you're welcome to look around."
I nodded and stepped inside, my heart pounding. The interior was just as grand as the exterior—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and artwork that probably cost more than my entire family's estate. But it was also cold, sterile, like a museum. There was no warmth here, no sign that this was a home.
I wandered through the halls, my footsteps echoing in the silence. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I felt drawn to a particular wing of the house, down a corridor that seemed to lead to more private quarters.
At the end of the corridor, I found a door slightly ajar. I pushed it open and stepped inside, finding myself in a small study. It was different from the rest of the house—cozy, almost intimate, with a fireplace and shelves lined with books. On the desk, there were framed photographs, and as I moved closer, I saw that one of them was of a young woman.
Vivian Wu.
Her face was familiar, even though I had only seen it in the newspaper clipping. She was beautiful, with dark hair and a bright smile that seemed at odds with the tragic story I had read. Next to her photograph was another, of a young boy—Alexander, I realized, from the sharpness of his features even at that age.
There was something deeply personal about this room, something that spoke of a past that Alexander had tried to bury. I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as I looked at the photos. Whatever had happened to Vivian, it had left a scar on Alexander, one that he had never allowed to heal.
I was about to leave when something on the desk caught my eye—a leather-bound journal, old and worn, with a small clasp that had been left unlocked. I knew I shouldn't, but the temptation was too great. I opened it, my hands trembling slightly, and began to read.
The journal belonged to Vivian. It was filled with entries that chronicled her life, her struggles, and her feelings of isolation. As I read, I realized that she had been deeply unhappy, trapped in a life she couldn't escape. There were mentions of arguments with her father, of feeling suffocated by the expectations placed on her. And then, in the final pages, there was a chilling entry:
"I don't know how much longer I can take this. I feel like I'm drowning, and no one can save me. Not even Alex."
The words sent a shiver down my spine. It was clear that Vivian had been in a dark place, and that Alexander had been powerless to help her. But there was something more, something unspoken that lingered in the pages. A sense of foreboding, of a tragedy that could have been prevented.
I closed the journal, my mind racing. This was the truth that Alexander had been hiding—the pain of losing his sister, the guilt that must have haunted him ever since. It explained so much about him, about the walls he had built around himself, about the coldness that seemed to define him.
But it also made me wonder—was there more to this marriage than just a business deal? Was Alexander trying to protect himself, or was he trying to protect me from something even darker?
I left the study with more questions than answers, but one thing was clear: Alexander Wu was not the man I had thought he was. And as the wedding day approached, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking into a world of secrets and lies, where nothing was as it seemed.
That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn't stop thinking about Vivian's journal, about the pain she had endured, and about the man who had tried—and failed—to save her. Alexander Wu was a mystery, one that I was determined to solve. But with each new revelation, I felt myself being pulled deeper into his world, a world that was as dangerous as it was alluring.
And I knew that once I crossed the threshold into that world, there would be no turning back.