Elena sat in Rafael's home office, pen hovering over the document that would seal their alliance. The marriage contract was twenty pages of legal language that basically said: help each other get revenge, then walk away.
"Having second thoughts?" Rafael asked, watching her hesitation with curious eyes.
"Just making sure I'm not signing away my soul," Elena replied, flipping through the pages one last time.
The contract outlined everything—their public appearances as a loving couple, how they would share information about the Carters, and their agreement to divorce after one year with no claims against each other's assets.
Rafael poured two glasses of champagne. "To our paper marriage."
Elena signed her name with a flourish, then took the offered glass. "To revenge."
Their glasses clinked, and Elena caught something unexpected in Rafael's eyes—a flicker of admiration, perhaps? She quickly dismissed the thought. This was business, nothing more.
"The wedding is in three days," Rafael said, setting down his glass. "Small ceremony, big publicity."
"And Vivian and Jade will be invited?"
"Front row seats," Rafael confirmed with a cold smile. "I want to see their faces when they realize I'm marrying someone they consider beneath them."
Elena nodded, trying to ignore how the word "marrying" made her pulse quicken. This wasn't real. None of it was real.
"My team has created a complete history for us," Rafael continued. "We met six months ago at a charity auction in Paris. Whirlwind romance."
"Do they believe you capable of romance?" Elena asked with a raised eyebrow.
Rafael's lips curved upward. "They think I'm capable of lust, which is close enough for gossip columns."
Heat rushed to Elena's cheeks. She stood abruptly, needing distance from his intense gaze. "I should go. I have final dress fittings tomorrow."
Rafael walked her to the door, his hand briefly touching the small of her back. Such a casual gesture, yet Elena felt it like an electric current through her body.
"Three days, Ms. Santos," he said softly. "Then you'll be Mrs. Sinclair."
Elena's car waited outside his building, but she didn't immediately get in. The night air helped clear her head. This was just another step in her plan. So why did it feel like she was stepping off a cliff?
The wedding day arrived with perfect weather and military precision. Elena stood in the bridal suite of Rafael's penthouse, looking at herself in the mirror. Her dress was elegant but simple—an ivory column with delicate lace shoulders.
Her new face stared back at her. Would her father have recognized her now? Would her grandmother?
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
"They're here," Mia said, slipping into the room. As Elena's only true friend who knew her real identity, Mia was her sole bridesmaid. "Vivian and Jade just arrived. You should see their faces—like they swallowed lemons."
Elena smiled. "Good."
"Are you sure about this?" Mia asked, adjusting Elena's veil. "Marrying Rafael Sinclair is like dancing with a shark."
"I'm not afraid of sharks," Elena replied. "I became one."
The ceremony was brief but beautiful. White roses filled the penthouse garden, and only thirty guests witnessed Elena walking down the aisle to where Rafael waited, looking devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo.
Elena spotted Vivian and Jade sitting rigidly in the front row, their smiles forced. Next to them was Noah, her ex-fiancé, looking older and more strained than she remembered. The sight of him made her stomach clench, but she kept her expression serene.
When Rafael took her hand, his touch was warm and steady. For a bizarre moment as they exchanged vows, Elena imagined a world where this wasn't pretend—where the man promising to cherish her actually meant those words.
"You may kiss the bride," the officiant announced.
This was the moment they'd barely discussed. A kiss for show, nothing more. But when Rafael's lips met hers, Elena wasn't prepared for the jolt that ran through her body or how his hand gently cradled her face like she was something precious.
It lasted only seconds, yet when they broke apart, Elena felt breathless.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the officiant proclaimed, "I present Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair!"
The small crowd applauded. Elena caught Vivian whispering something to Jade, both women watching her with cold calculation.
The reception moved inside to Rafael's expansive living room. Elena circulated among guests, playing the role of blissful bride while keeping one eye on her stepfamily.
"Congratulations," a familiar voice finally said behind her.
Elena turned to face Vivian, whose perfect smile didn't reach her eyes.
"Thank you, Mrs. Carter," Elena replied coolly. "I'm so glad you could attend."
"Rafael has always been impulsive," Vivian said, sipping champagne. "Though I must say, you're quite the mystery, Elena Santos. No family present? No friends except your bridesmaid?"
"Some of us value quality over quantity," Elena responded.
Vivian's eyes narrowed slightly. "Indeed. Well, I hope you enjoy being Mrs. Sinclair while it lasts. Rafael's attention tends to wander."
Before Elena could reply, Rafael appeared beside her, slipping an arm around her waist. "Vivian, I see you're getting to know my wife."
The possessive way he said "my wife" sent an unexpected shiver down Elena's spine.
"Just sharing some friendly advice," Vivian replied sweetly. "Marriage can be so challenging."
"We'll manage," Rafael said, pulling Elena closer. "Elena understands me better than anyone ever has."
The look that passed between them surprised even Elena—there was something real in it, something unplanned.
Vivian excused herself, clearly unsettled by their apparent closeness.
"You're quite the actor," Elena murmured once Vivian was out of earshot.
"As are you," Rafael replied, his hand still resting on her waist. "But the night's still young. Your ex-fiancé keeps staring at you."
Elena glanced toward Noah, who quickly looked away. "Let him stare. He means nothing to me now."
"Good," Rafael said, his voice dropping lower. "Because tonight, you're mine."
The possessiveness in his tone made Elena's heart race, even though she knew it was all for show.
The reception ended as the sun set. Guests departed with congratulations and knowing smiles, leaving Elena and Rafael alone in the penthouse that was now officially their shared home.
"Well, Mrs. Sinclair," Rafael said, loosening his tie. "I believe our performance was convincing."
Elena kicked off her heels. "Vivian suspects something. She's too smart not to."
"Let her suspect. She can't prove anything." Rafael poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to Elena. "To a successful first step."
They clinked glasses, and Elena took a long sip, feeling the liquor warm her from within. "Where do we go from here?"
"Tomorrow we start dismantling the Carter empire," Rafael said simply. "Tonight, we celebrate our union."
The word "union" hung between them, loaded with unspoken tension.
"I had the guest room prepared for you," Rafael added, breaking the silence. "Unless..."
Elena met his gaze, surprised to find it uncertain for once. She set down her glass. "The guest room will be fine. This is business, remember?"
Something flashed in Rafael's eyes—disappointment? Relief? She couldn't tell.
"Of course," he said smoothly. "Business."
Elena turned to leave, but Rafael caught her hand. "Elena—"
The touch of his fingers on hers sent warmth cascading through her body.
"Yes?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rafael seemed to battle with himself before releasing her hand. "Nothing. Goodnight, Mrs. Sinclair."
Elena retreated to the guest room, her skin still tingling where he'd touched her. As she unzipped her wedding dress, her phone chimed with a text message.
Unknown number: I know who you really are, Selena Carter. The dead should stay dead.
Elena stared at the screen, ice replacing the warmth in her veins. Someone knew her secret—someone who had been at the wedding.
The game had just become far more dangerous than she'd planned.