Under the Shadows of Love

**Chapter 1: The Loveless Wedding**

The warm sunlight streamed through the elegant windows of the bridal suite, casting a golden hue on the ivory lace of Lía's wedding gown. She sat on the ornate chair, staring blankly at her reflection in the antique mirror. Her makeup was flawless, her hair styled to perfection, but her eyes betrayed her—a glimmer of unshed tears pooled at the edges.

"Lía, stop fidgeting," her father, Julio, barked from the doorway. "You're a bride today, not a child. Remember what's at stake."

Julio's commanding tone pierced through her moment of doubt. She straightened her posture, her heart sinking further. This wasn't her wedding; it was a transaction, a lifeline for her father's struggling company. Alejandro, the cold and distant heir of the Morales empire, was the price she had to pay for her family's survival.

"Do you understand?" Julio pressed, his sharp gaze meeting hers in the mirror.

"Yes, Father," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Julio left the room without another word, leaving Lía alone with her thoughts.

Across the city, Alejandro Morales adjusted his tie in the backseat of his luxury car, his jaw set and his mind elsewhere. The bride waiting for him at the altar was not the one he'd envisioned standing beside him. His thoughts wandered to Sofía, the woman who had once been his entire world—until the walls of duty and obligation came crashing down.

He glanced at the time on his watch. He was late, but it didn't matter. This was a marriage of convenience, devoid of affection.

Back in the bridal suite, Camila burst through the door, her face flushed with concern. "Lía, you don't have to do this," she said, her voice trembling with urgency.

Lía forced a smile. "It's already done, Camila. The invitations, the flowers, the church… my father."

"Your father," Camila scoffed. "He doesn't own you, Lía. You're not a pawn in his chess game."

Lía lowered her gaze. "It's not just about him. My family needs this. If marrying Alejandro saves my father's company, then… I'll endure it."

Camila knelt beside her, taking her hands. "Enduring is not living, Lía. You deserve love, not—"

A knock at the door interrupted them. The wedding planner peeked in. "It's time, Miss Castillo."

Lía nodded and stood, her gown cascading around her like a waterfall. Camila gave her one last, desperate look before stepping back.

The church was breathtaking, filled with an array of white roses and soft candlelight. Yet, despite the grandeur, the atmosphere felt hollow. Lía walked down the aisle, her arm looped through her father's, her heart pounding with every step.

The groom stood at the altar, his expression unreadable. Alejandro had arrived just minutes before the ceremony, his indifference palpable. As Lía reached his side, he barely looked at her, his focus fixed on the officiant.

The vows were spoken, the rings exchanged, but the words felt heavy and meaningless. When Alejandro kissed her, it was brief, mechanical—a gesture for the crowd rather than a promise of love.

At the reception, Lía sat at the head table, a glass of champagne untouched in front of her. Guests mingled and laughed, unaware of the storm brewing inside her. Alejandro had excused himself shortly after their entrance, claiming urgent business.

"Business on your wedding day?" Camila muttered as she approached Lía.

Lía sighed. "It's fine. This is who he is."

"It's not fine," Camila snapped. "You deserve better."

Before Lía could respond, the murmur of nearby guests caught her attention.

"She looks stunning, but everyone knows Alejandro's heart belongs to Sofía," one woman whispered.

"I heard he only agreed to this marriage because of his family," another chimed in.

Lía's stomach twisted. She had heard of Sofía before—an ex-fiancée, a love lost to circumstances. She had been told it was in the past, but the whispers told a different story.

Hours later, Lía wandered through the grand ballroom, searching for Alejandro. The celebration had begun to wind down, but he was nowhere to be found. She finally spotted him outside on the terrace, his phone pressed to his ear.

"I'll handle it," he said curtly before hanging up.

"Work?" Lía asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

He turned, surprised to see her. "What do you want, Lía?"

"To know where my husband has been all night," she replied, her voice steady despite the lump in her throat.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This isn't a real marriage, Lía. Let's not pretend otherwise."

Her chest tightened at his words, the final blow to her already fragile heart. "I didn't ask for this either, Alejandro, but the least you could do is pretend for one night."

He met her gaze, his eyes cold and unyielding. "Pretending doesn't change reality."

Without another word, he walked away, leaving her alone on the terrace. Lía stared out at the city lights, her resolve hardening. If this was the life she had chosen—or been forced into—she would face it on her own terms.

As she turned to rejoin the dwindling crowd, the sound of whispered voices reached her ears once more.

"Did you see how he looked at her? He's still in love with Sofía."

Lía paused, her heart aching. Alejandro's absence wasn't just physical—it was emotional, too. Sofía's shadow loomed over their marriage, a ghost she couldn't compete with.

But Lía wasn't a woman to be overshadowed.

The night ended with Lía returning to the bridal suite alone. She removed her veil and gown with deliberate care, placing them neatly on a chair. The weight of the day pressed down on her, but instead of tears, she felt a spark of determination.

This wasn't the fairy tale she had once dreamed of, but it was her reality now. And if Alejandro refused to meet her halfway, she would carve her own path within the constraints of their loveless union.

As she crawled into bed, her mind raced with plans for the days ahead. If Alejandro's heart belonged to someone else, then hers would belong to herself.

For the first time in years, Lía felt the stirrings of rebellion—not against her father or Alejandro, but against the life she had been forced into.

And she would not go quietly.

As the moonlight streamed through the windows, Alejandro stood on his balcony, a glass of whiskey in hand. His phone buzzed, displaying a name he hadn't seen in months—*Sofía*.

He stared at the screen, his finger hovering over the answer button. In the distance, he could still hear the faint hum of the wedding celebrations.

Would he answer? Or would he let the past stay buried?

With a deep breath, he made his choice.