Aneira stood in front of the mirror, her breath catching as she gazed at her reflection. The ivory silk of her wedding dress clung to her slender frame, the delicate lace detailing tracing her collarbone and cascading down her arms like vines. The jade necklace sitting pretty on her neck. The soft curls of her blonde hair fell around her shoulders, framing her face… a face marred only by the tears that silently trailed down her cheeks. Her grey eyes, normally bright and full of life, looked hollow and lost beneath the veil of sadness. A soft, trembling sigh escaped her lips as she reached up to wipe the tears away. She wasn't supposed to be crying, not today, not like this.

She felt like a shell of herself. The memories of how quickly her life had unraveled flooded her mind. Once, she had been just a normal girl working at the wine factory, content and hopeful for the future. Then, out of nowhere, her world crumbled like fragile glass. She had been wrongfully accused of betraying the company by leaking their special recipe to a rival, something she would never even dream of doing. That accusation had led to her being dragged away in handcuffs, locked in a cell that felt colder than any place she'd ever known.

She had clung to the hope that her mother would help her. Her mother, the woman who had raised her, who had always been there. But when she needed her the most, that was when the truth shattered her last bit of strength. Her mother, the woman she had loved, had coldly told her she wasn't her real daughter. She had been swapped at birth. The one person she thought would defend her turned her back on her without a second thought.

And then there was Ethan, the man she loved more than anything. When she finally reached him, thinking he would be her anchor in the storm, he told her he was already engaged… to the person whom she was swapped with at birth; her mother… no, the woman who took care of her real daughter. Her heart shattered, the betrayal cutting deep. 

How had her life fallen apart so completely?

The people she had loved, the ones she had protected with everything she had, had all turned their backs on her when she needed them the most. And just when she thought it was all over—when she was at her lowest and believed she had no one left—her real parents, the Grigoras family, had found her. It had been like a sudden burst of light in the darkest part of her tunnel. 

Finally, there was hope again. 

She could start over.

But then... they had asked her to marry him. Not Ethan, but his uncle. Jaxton Haydra. She had heard rumours about Jaxton—about the legal powerhouse he was, and how even the most impossible cases seemed to crumble beneath him in the courtroom. But there had also been whispers, darker ones, about the kind of influence he held outside the law. 

The idea seemed absurd, cruel even. She hadn't wanted to believe it, but here she was, standing in a wedding gown, about to marry a man she had never even met. 

Aneira's throat tightened as fresh tears threatened to spill over. The soft rustle of the door pushing open startled her. Quickly, she wiped her face with the back of her hand and called out, her voice shaky, "I'm almost done, okay? Just wait for me outside." 

She turned, expecting to see one of the attendants, but instead, her breath caught in her throat. A tall figure stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. His presence filled the room instantly. Dark hair, perfectly tousled, framed a face that could have belonged to a statue, so flawless in its structure. His blue eyes, piercing and intense, locked onto hers, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. 

Aneira swallowed hard, trying to regain her composure. "Who... who are you?" she managed to ask, her voice faltering slightly.

"May I come in?" His voice was low and smooth, and as he smiled, it was as though the air around her shifted. That smile—so effortless, so captivating—made her heart skip. 

Before she could respond, he stepped inside, the door closing softly behind him. Aneira took a step back, her pulse quickening. "You're not supposed to be here," she said, her tone more uncertain than firm as he came closer.

"Relax," he said with a quiet laugh, his eyes never leaving hers. He stood in front of her now, towering over her petite frame, and she couldn't help but feel small in his presence. His tailored suit, flawless and crisp, hinted at his impeccable taste, but it was the confident ease with which he moved that truly caught her attention. He carried himself like someone who had seen it all, like someone who never had to raise his voice to be heard.

His eyes, those deep blue pools, seemed to see right through her, and she had to fight the urge to look away, afraid she'd lose herself in them if she stared too long. They were intense, as if they carried secrets of their own, mysteries she didn't dare try to uncover.

Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached out, his hand hovering near her cheek. His touch, when it came, was gentle, a brush of warmth against her cool skin. Aneira's breath hitched again as a strange sensation bloomed in her chest. There was something disarming about the way his fingers lingered, tracing the curve of her jaw, as if he were committing her face to memory. 

"You are beautiful, my bride," he murmured, his voice soft, but heavy with meaning.

For a split second, the world outside the room disappeared. The doubts, the confusion, the bitterness… it all faded. But then the reality of the moment crashed back down. This was her wedding day, and this man standing before her was not a savior, but a stranger. A stranger who was about to become her husband.