𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 – 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬
The sun was beginning to set, casting an eerie golden glow over the sprawling military base. The rhythmic pounding of boots echoed through the air—unwavering, disciplined, relentless.
Among them stood a man who did not need to march.
Caden Aurelius Voltaire-Falkner.
His presence alone demanded authority. He was dressed in a black military uniform, its gold accents gleaming under the dying sunlight. Medals and insignias adorned his chest, silent testaments to victories won in the shadows. His expression? Impenetrable. A carefully crafted mask that hid the storm raging beneath.
"Discipline is the foundation of power." He had been taught that since childhood, and he had made it his law.
A gust of wind swept through the camp, rustling the flags and carrying the distant scent of rain. The sky, once clear, darkened into ominous shades of gray, as if reflecting the very thoughts simmering in his mind.
"Sir."
A sharp voice cut through the air. Lieutenant Harris. Stiff posture. Eyes filled with something akin to unease.
Caden didn't respond immediately, merely turning his head slightly—a silent command to continue.
"A message from headquarters." Harris hesitated, then added, "It concerns… her."
A flicker of something passed through Caden's cold blue eyes, but it vanished before it could be identified. Without a word, he took the sealed envelope. The familiar insignia pressed into the wax was heavy with authority.
With a single dismissive nod, he sent the lieutenant away and made his way toward his private quarters.
The moment the door shut behind him, silence wrapped around the room like a suffocating blanket.
He unfolded the paper.
Anastasia Vale.
His lips curled—not in amusement, but in something far darker.
"The Vales have proposed an alliance through marriage…"
The words felt like an insult. His grip on the letter tightened, the fragile paper crumpling under his fingers.
Memories surfaced, unbidden and unwelcome.
Betrayal. Blood. Loss.
The Vale family was responsible for it all. Their greed had led to ruin. To war. To Markus's death.
And now, they had the audacity to offer their daughter to him?
Outside, the first drops of rain fell, cold and unfeeling.
A slow smirk spread across Caden's face.
If they thought this marriage would mend the past… they were gravely mistaken.
This was no union.
This was vengeance.
---
𝐄𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞…
The Vale estate stood in eerie silence.
Once, it had been the heart of high society, the stage of grand galas and whispered power plays. Now, its faded walls and dimly lit chandeliers carried the weight of something rotting beneath the surface.
By the grand window of the study, Anastasia Vale sat, her fingers resting lightly against the glass.
Beyond the rain-streaked panes, the storm raged, mirroring the unease twisting in her stomach.
Across the room, her father, Reginald Vale, swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand. His expression was unreadable—somewhere between amusement and calculation.
"Ana," he finally spoke, his voice heavy with something unspoken. "You will marry Caden Voltaire."
Her fingers stilled.
The name sent a chill through her bones.
She had heard of him. A man whose name was spoken in hushed tones. A soldier who was more myth than man. A ghost in the battlefield, a shadow in the halls of power.
And now, he was to be her husband?
Reginald met her gaze, his lips curling into a humorless smile. "It's already been decided."
A flicker of defiance sparked in her chest. "And if I refuse?"
He took a slow sip of his drink, never breaking eye contact. "Then you'll have far worse things to fear than marriage, my dear."
A deep rumble of thunder cracked across the sky, shaking the very walls of the estate.
And just like that, Anastasia Vale's fate was sealed.