Between Duty And Desire

"Congratulations, it must be nice to be marrying into the Wellington family," another person said as they approached, offering their congratulations with a warm smile that didn't quite reach their eyes.

I forced a polite nod, my fingers gripping the glass of champagne a little too tightly. Never in my life did I imagine that at just 20 years old, I'd find myself standing in the middle of a grand venue, wearing an immaculate white suit, married to a dominant Alpha from one of the most prestigious families in the country.

The gold-trimmed chandeliers above glittered like the expectations surrounding me, each crystal a reminder of the world I'd been thrust into—a world of power, influence, and unspoken rules I barely understood. My heart felt heavy beneath the weight of the vows I'd taken mere hours ago, a stark contrast to the light, celebratory atmosphere that buzzed around me.

I glanced across the room to where he stood, commanding attention with an effortless charisma that came so naturally to him. Alexander Wellington—the man who was now my husband. The man who, with one look, could make a room fall silent. The man whose presence was a constant reminder of the stark difference in our worlds.

And yet, here I was, bound to him, not by choice, but by duty.

As I stood there, nodding absently to another well-wisher who offered their congratulations, I couldn't help but steal another glance at Alexander. His dark hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place, and his tailored black suit hugged his broad shoulders with the precision of someone accustomed to perfection. He was deep in conversation with an older gentleman, probably another business mogul or politician—someone important, as always.

His smile, sharp and confident, made it clear he belonged here, surrounded by wealth and power. And then there was me. A twenty-year-old nobody who had somehow been pulled into this life, like a fish out of water gasping for air.

"Don't look so dense. You're doing this for your father's business," Mom's voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and low, as she appeared beside me, her hand clasping my arm in a vice-like grip.

I flinched slightly but didn't pull away. Her perfectly styled hair and icy demeanor matched the cold reality of her words. She smiled at a passing guest, a mask of grace and poise, but her words were for me alone.

"And once you leave this place, make sure you act properly at your new house. You are an omega, and it's your duty to take care of the Alpha."

The words hit me harder than I expected, even though I'd heard them a hundred times before. Act properly. Take care of the Alpha. My throat tightened as I swallowed back the bitter taste of resentment. It was always about duty, wasn't it? About pleasing others, upholding appearances, and securing the family's future.

"I know," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

She arched a brow, unimpressed. "Make sure you do. The Wellingtons didn't choose you because they wanted a scandal. They expect obedience, respect, and—"

"—perfection," I finished for her, the word slipping out before I could stop myself.

Her grip tightened, her nails pressing into my arm. "Watch your tone," she hissed, her smile still firmly in place for the sake of the onlookers. "This isn't the time to sulk. Everything we've worked for depends on you. Do not embarrass us."

I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to nod, even as my chest tightened with the weight of her expectations.

Across the room, Alexander's gaze flickered toward us for the briefest moment, his expression unreadable. Did he hear her? Did he care? Probably not. To him, this was just another transaction—a deal between powerful families, with me as the collateral.

Mom straightened her posture and released my arm, her eyes scanning me critically. "Fix your tie. And for god's sake, smile. You're a Wellington now."

Her words lingered in the air as she glided away, leaving me standing there with a forced smile plastered on my face, wishing more than anything that I could disappear.

...….

After the ceremony, I walked out of the venue hand in hand with Alex, his grip firm yet impersonal. The crowd of well-wishers surrounded us, their smiles bright and applause echoing in the cool evening air. I kept my head high, mirroring the practiced poise I'd been taught, even as the weight of their stares made my skin prickle.

"Congratulations!" someone called out, their tone syrupy sweet. "You two look perfect together!"

Perfect. If only they knew how far from the truth that was.

Alex nodded politely to the guests, his expression unreadable as always, and tightened his hold on my hand just enough to remind me to keep moving. Finally, we reached the sleek black car waiting for us at the curb. The driver stood by the open door, bowing slightly as I stepped inside.

Sliding onto the leather seat, I exhaled softly, relieved to be out of the spotlight. Alex followed closely behind, his presence filling the small space as he shut the door with a quiet click.

The car began to move, the sounds of the crowd fading into the distance as we left the venue behind. For the first time that evening, there was silence.

I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur together, my hands folded neatly in my lap. My white suit suddenly felt suffocating, the crisp fabric a reminder of the role I was now expected to play.

Alex shifted beside me, and I could feel his gaze on me, sharp and calculating. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Are you always this quiet, or are you just saving your words for when they matter?"

The question caught me off guard, and I turned to look at him. His expression was calm, almost bored, but there was an edge to his tone, like he was testing me.

"I didn't think you were interested in what I had to say," I replied evenly, my voice devoid of emotion.

One corner of his mouth twitched upward in something that might have been a smirk. "Smart answer."

I didn't respond, returning my gaze to the window. The tension between us was palpable, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

"You'll be moving into my house tomorrow," he continued after a moment, his tone matter-of-fact. "I expect you to adapt quickly. My family has certain… standards."

Standards. Another word I was already sick of hearing. I clenched my hands in my lap, nodding without looking at him. "I understand."

"Good."

And just like that, the conversation ended. The silence returned, heavier than before, as the car sped through the city toward a future I hadn't chosen but couldn't escape.

————————

As I carried my suitcase downstairs, the house felt eerily quiet, the usual warmth of home replaced with an emptiness I couldn't shake. Mom was waiting by the front door, her sharp eyes watching me as I descended.

"Come on," she said briskly, opening the door. "The car's already here."

I nodded silently, stepping outside where a sleek black car was parked in the driveway. The driver stood beside it, politely bowing as he opened the trunk to take my suitcase.

"Good luck," Mom said, her tone clipped but her expression betraying the faintest flicker of something softer—regret, maybe, or guilt. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by her usual mask of stoic determination. "Don't disappoint us."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. "I won't."

She didn't say anything else, just stepped back as I climbed into the car. The door closed with a soft thud, and the driver slid into the front seat, pulling out of the driveway without a word.

I stared out the window, watching my house grow smaller and smaller until it disappeared entirely. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut—this was no longer my home.

The drive to Alexander's house was long and quiet, the city's bustling streets giving way to quieter, more exclusive neighborhoods. Gated mansions lined the road, each one larger and more extravagant than the last.

When the car finally slowed, I looked up to see towering wrought-iron gates swinging open, revealing an estate that seemed to stretch on forever. The Wellington mansion loomed in the distance, its grand façade intimidating and unwelcoming.

The car came to a stop in front of the massive double doors, and the driver quickly stepped out to open mine. I hesitated for a moment, my hand hovering over the door handle, before finally stepping out.

The doors opened before I could reach them, and Alexander stood there, his imposing figure framed by the grand entryway. He was dressed casually in a crisp white shirt and black slacks, but his presence was anything but relaxed.

"You're late," he said, his tone calm but laced with authority.

"I—" I started to explain, but he held up a hand, silencing me.

"It doesn't matter. You're here now." He stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter.

The interior was just as overwhelming as the exterior—high ceilings, marble floors, and furniture that looked like it cost more than my family's entire house. It was beautiful, but it felt cold, lifeless, like a museum instead of a home.

Alexander's voice broke through my thoughts. "I'll show you to your room. We'll go over the rules later."

I nodded silently, following him up the grand staircase, my footsteps echoing in the vast space. This was my new life—a life of rules, expectations, and obligations.

And as I stepped into the room that would now be mine, I couldn't help but wonder how long it would take for this house to feel like anything more than a cage.