Chapter 1: An Unwanted Union

The grand ballroom of the Moretti estate sparkled with opulence. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting their glow over the gilded walls and polished marble floors. It was the kind of setting where fairy tales began, but for Lucas Moretti, this was the prelude to a nightmare.

Lucas stood near the altar, his jaw clenched, and his expression cold. The whispers from the gathered elite of New York's high society swirled around him, their curious gazes only fueling his simmering anger. This was supposed to be his wedding day—a day of celebration. Instead, it felt like a cage tightening around him.

"Smile," his younger sister, Isabella, whispered as she approached, her sleek emerald dress shimmering under the light. "People are watching."

Lucas didn't respond, his piercing gray eyes fixed on the grand staircase at the far end of the room. Any moment now, she would appear. The woman who had trapped him in this charade.

Ariana Cole adjusted the lace veil draped over her dark chestnut hair, her fingers trembling slightly. The mirror reflected a vision of beauty—a bride in a designer gown worth more than her annual salary at the boutique she used to manage. But Ariana didn't feel beautiful. She felt like a fraud.

"This is for your family," her stepmother, Vanessa, had reminded her just hours ago, her tone laced with faux sweetness. "You wouldn't want us to lose everything, would you?"

Ariana's stomach churned. Vanessa had orchestrated this entire mess, using her as a pawn in a game Ariana didn't fully understand. Lucas Moretti, the billionaire tycoon, was being forced to marry her because of a scandal that Vanessa had cleverly manufactured.

"I hope you're happy," Ariana muttered under her breath, her reflection glaring back at her.

The doors to the ballroom opened, and the soft strains of the wedding march filled the air. Taking a deep breath, Ariana stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest.

Lucas turned his head as Ariana entered, his gaze hardening. She was stunning, no doubt, but Lucas had no intention of letting her beauty distract him. To him, she was a schemer, someone who had manipulated her way into his life.

As she walked down the aisle, her eyes briefly met his. There was something in her gaze—an emotion he couldn't quite place. Fear? Regret? But Lucas dismissed it, unwilling to see anything beyond the role she played in this farce.

When Ariana reached the altar, Lucas extended his hand stiffly. She took it, her touch hesitant, and together they faced the officiant.

The vows were recited with all the warmth of a business transaction. Lucas's deep voice was steady, but the coldness in his tone was unmistakable. Ariana's voice faltered slightly, but she pushed through, unwilling to let the assembled crowd see her vulnerability.

"You may now kiss the bride."

The words hung in the air like a challenge. Lucas leaned in, his lips brushing against Ariana's with the barest contact, more an act of obligation than affection. The crowd erupted in polite applause, but neither of them paid attention.

As they turned to face the room, Ariana whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible over the applause.

"I didn't want this either."

Lucas's head turned slightly, his expression unreadable. But before he could respond, Isabella appeared at his side, her smile bright and practiced.

"Congratulations, brother," she said sweetly before pulling Ariana into a brief, perfunctory hug. "And welcome to the family, Ariana."

The reception that followed was a blur of forced smiles and meaningless conversations. Ariana found herself alone near the edge of the ballroom, clutching a glass of champagne she hadn't touched.

Lucas approached, his presence commanding as always. "Enjoying the fruits of your labor?" he asked, his voice low and biting.

Ariana turned to face him, her eyes flashing with defiance. "I had no choice."

"Everyone has a choice," Lucas countered, his tone laced with contempt. "You just chose the one that benefited you the most."

Ariana opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Vanessa, who appeared out of nowhere, her smile as polished as the diamonds on her neck.

"Lucas, darling," Vanessa cooed, placing a hand on Ariana's shoulder. "I hope my daughter will prove to be a worthy match for you."

Lucas's lips curled into a thin, humorless smile. "I suppose time will tell."

Vanessa's laughter tinkled like broken glass. "Of course. Now, if you'll excuse us, I need to borrow Ariana for a moment."

Later that night, as the newlyweds retired to Lucas's penthouse, the tension between them was palpable.

"This is your room," Lucas said curtly, opening the door to a lavish guest suite. "Don't expect anything more than that."

Ariana stared at him, her jaw tightening. "I'm not here to play the loving wife, Lucas. You've made it clear what you think of me. But don't assume you know everything."

Lucas stepped closer, his towering presence intimidating. "Oh, I know enough. Just stay out of my way, and we won't have a problem."

Ariana held his gaze, refusing to back down. "Fine."

As the door closed between them, Ariana leaned against it, her heart racing. She had survived the first day of this deceitful marriage, but she knew the battle was only beginning.