Chapter Three: Vows…
"It's going to be interesting…"
The chapel glowed with the light of the setting sun coming through the stained-glass windows.
Everything smelled like lilies and candle wax; every seated guest had their high expectations of this marriage.
But none of them mattered to Diane.
All she could see was Gabriel Frost, standing at the altar, and his forest-like eyes looking at her as she walked down the aisle.
Gabriel wasn't smiling.
He wasn't nervous.
He also had a blank face, though his curled lip suggested he was disgusted, as if the bride walking toward him in her white gown was nothing more than a lowly servant dressed above her station.
Diane's heart clenched, not from nerves, but from the memories of her previous life.
She had tried, once, to love him.
She had wanted to be the perfect wife, to earn his affection.
'I tried,' she thought bitterly. 'I wanted to be happy with you.'
She had cooked his favorite meals, dressed in the colors he liked, listened intently when he talked about his work.
She had even tried to make him laugh with silly jokes, but Gabriel had always looked at her as though she were an inconvenience, a mouse in some larger place.
He had never loved her.
His indifference had worn her down, made her desperate for someone who saw her.
That desperation had driven her straight into Adrian's hands, into his lies, into his bed.
Her chest tightened as she reached the altar. Her trembling fingers lightly brushed against Gabriel's as she handed him her bouquet.
His grip was cold, as though he were handling an object, not his bride.
"Diane," Gabriel said quietly. "You look… fine."
'Fine?'
This word stung, but she forced herself to smile.
She had been called worse by him in her past life.
This time, she wasn't here to seek his approval.
She was here to survive—and to reclaim what was hers.
"Thank you," she replied while forcing a smile.
She turned toward the priest, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.
As the ceremony began, Diane's mind drifted to somewhere else.
The words of the priest went through her like a faded murmur in the background as she replayed the memories of her past life.
'I wasted so much time hating my father,' she thought, biting her lip.
She had believed Rachel's lies for years and had let them poison her against the man who should have been her protector.
Her father hadn't sold her; he had been betrayed by the woman he trusted.
Rachel had planned everything—her kidnapping, her suffering.
And Diane had hated him for it.
The very thought of being in the same room with him had once made her soul vanish. But now?
'Now I know the truth,' she thought, gritting her teeth.
'And I'll take back everything Rachel stole from me. My name, my inheritance, my power. All of it.'
The priest's voice rose slightly, signaling the vows.
Gabriel turned fully, scanning her face as though searching for cracks in her composure.
"Do you, Diane Hoffman, take this man, Gabriel Frost, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
She hesitated for half a heartbeat. This decision pressed her down harder than a rock.
But then she glanced at Gabriel's face, his cold expression, and made her choice.
"Yes," she said confidently.
Gabriel's eyes blinked, just for a moment, as though her confidence surprised him.
Then he extended his hand, touching his fingers against hers as he slid the wedding band onto her finger.
"And do you, Gabriel Frost, take this woman, Diane Hoffman, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the priest asked.
Gabriel's answer came without hesitation. "I do."
Diane tried to read his face, but it was impassive.
This was a transaction for him, nothing more.
A marriage that secured alliances, wealth, and reputation.
Richard and Adrian belonged to a mafia—not a simple one, but they were the strongest, most intimidating one.
Gabriel knew that, but his father and Richard were old friends, and this marriage was forced on him by Richard.
As the priest pronounced them husband and wife, Gabriel leaned in. His lips pressed against hers for an obligatory kiss.
There was no warmth in it, no passion—just an icy decision of a man fulfilling a duty.
The applause from the guests reached her ears, but Diane barely noticed.
'You'll be my escape, Gabriel,' she thought as they turned to face the crowd, their hands linked in a show of unity.
'You may not love me, but I'll use this marriage to get what I need. And when the time comes, I'll help you. I won't let Adrian ruin you like he did before.'
"Try not to embarrass me during the reception," he muttered. "You're my wife now. At least look the part."
Diane smiled, though her nails dug into the palm of her free hand.
"Of course, Gabriel," she replied sweetly. "I wouldn't dream of disappointing you."
The reception was full of clicking glasses, polite conversation, and forced smiles.
Diane played her role perfectly, nodding and laughing at the appropriate moments, all while keeping a careful eye on Adrian and Richard.
Adrian was always near the bar, with a drink in hand and a smirk on his face as he watched her.
She avoided him as much as possible, though his presence alone was strangling her from the inside.
Richard, on the other hand, was the picture of control.
He moved through the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries.
When his eyes landed on Diane across the room, he nodded.
She knew what he wanted—perfection.
Diane needed to find a way to reach her father, to reclaim her place as his daughter and the rightful heir to the Hoffman Corporation.
She had been cast aside once, laughed at by Rachel and her own misplaced trust.
'Not this time,' she vowed silently.
As the evening wore on, Gabriel finally approached her.
"The first dance," he said curtly, holding out his hand.
She placed her hand in his, letting him lead her to the center of the room.
Gabriel's hold on her waist was distant, precise.
He didn't speak; he seemed to be focused somewhere over her shoulder.
Diane searched for some vulnerability, some crack in his character, but there was nothing.
'You don't care about me,' she thought. Her heart ached despite herself.
'You never did. But that's fine. I'll survive without your love.'
As the dance ended, Gabriel released her, stepping back with a slight nod. "You did well," he spoke in a dismissive tone.
"Thank you, Gabriel."
Diane walked back to her table, not knowing that Gabriel kept his eyes on her.
"Why does this woman like it when people are cruel to her?" Gabriel mumbled, looking at Adrian.