Anna’s fingertips trembled as she tried to fasten the pearl buttons on the bodice of her wedding dress. The white silk gown looked absolutely beautiful and flawless, concealing the bitter reality behind it. In the old mirror reflecting her image, Anna applied a thick layer of lipstick to hide the bruise at the corner of her lip, the result of Finley’s outburst a short while ago.
The bedroom door swung open. Finley walked in wearing an elegant black suit tailored by a renowned tailor. He looked like the groom of his dreams, a stark contrast to the cold, piercing gaze in his eyes.
“You’re too slow,” Finley said softly but emphatically as he stepped closer. He grabbed Anna’s chin, lifting it until their eyes met. “Important guests from the business community and our business partners are already waiting downstairs. Put on your best smile and act like the happiest bride in the world. If you mess this up, Alden’s death warrant will be signed before the vows are even finished.”
Anna held her breath, staring at the man before her with suppressed hatred. “You don’t need to threaten me anymore, Finley. I know the role I have to play.”
Finley gave a faint smirk, released Anna’s chin, then traced her lips with his thumb, making sure the lipstick perfectly concealed her wound. “Good. Don’t let a single person get suspicious.”
The city’s old church was filled with an air of luxury. Soft music played, filling the room decorated with fresh white flowers. The invited guests—a mix of successful businesspeople and city officials—clapped as Anna walked down the aisle. From the outside, it all looked like a lavish wedding between two prominent families.
At the altar, a priest stood with a warm smile, welcoming the bride and groom, unaware of the dark drama behind their smiles.
Finley took Anna’s hand, which felt like ice. He held it tightly, as if to convey warmth, though it was actually a form of strict control to ensure Anna didn’t do anything foolish.
“Do you, Finley Maxwell, take Anna Wesley to be your wife…” the pastor’s voice rang out solemnly.
“I do,” Finley replied firmly and with conviction, staring straight into Anna’s eyes with perfect pretense.
When it was Anna’s turn, her throat felt tight. She glanced at the guests, imagining what would happen to Alden if she hesitated even for a second. Anna exhaled softly. “I… do.”
“You are now officially husband and wife.”
The pastor smiled and gave his blessing. Finley turned Anna toward him, pulled her by the nape of her neck, and planted a kiss that looked so romantic and full of love in the eyes of the cheering guests. But to Anna, that touch felt like a lifelong stamp of ownership, binding her within a cage of death.
The door to the master bedroom in Finley’s private mansion was tightly shut, cutting off all the noise and the pretentious party outside. Finley immediately yanked off his tie with a rough jerk, shedding his friendly facade in an instant.
Anna stepped back until her feet touched the bed, her chest rising and falling with panic. “The party’s over. Everyone believes we’re a happy couple. What more do you want?”
“To settle a small blood debt with Alden,” Finley replied coldly.
Before Anna could react, Finley grabbed her arm and roughly dragged her toward the master bathroom. He threw Anna’s body into the bathtub, which was already filled to the brim with water mixed with chunks of ice.
The cold water immediately pierced Anna’s skin. She let out a soft scream, her body shaking violently as she struggled to get out, but Finley held her shoulders firmly down at the bottom of the tub.
“Cold?” Finley whispered right into her ear, without a shred of pity. “This is nothing compared to how cold Feya’s body was in the morgue!”
Ten minutes were enough for Finley, he forcibly pulled Anna out of the icy water, causing her soaking-wet wedding dress to cling heavily to her shivering body. The man snatched a thick leather belt from his waist and folded it in half.
A hard lash landed on Anna’s back. A searing heat burned her frozen skin, sending Anna crashing to her knees on the cold marble floor. A stifled scream escaped Anna’s throat as the second and third lashes struck the same spot, tearing the fabric of the dress and leaving trails of blood.
“Please, Finley… please stop,” Anna pleaded, her lips trembling as she wailed against the pain that was shattering her body.
Finley flung the leather belt to the floor. His breath came in ragged gasps, his eyes red with burning vengeance. He grabbed Anna’s wet hair, forcing her to look up at him.
“Did you think this marriage would make it easy?” Finley gripped Anna’s waist, lifting her still-wet and limp body, then flung her onto the main bed.
Finley pinned down Anna’s body, which was trembling from the cold and trauma. Anna no longer had the strength to fight back. Tears mixed with the remaining icy water streamed down her pale cheeks. Amid her despair, the vision of Alden’s protection was the only thing keeping her alive.
“Go ahead, as long as you keep your promise never to touch Alden,” Anna said, trying to sound strong.
However, Finley’s hatred had already taken hold of him. Without a shred of pity or tenderness, Finley took what was his that night, sealing their fate in ever-darkening suffering.