I never thought my wedding day would feel like a funeral.
Not mine. His.
The man standing beside me—cold, unreadable, stunning in a black suit—was not the man I fell in love with.
He had the same face.
The same piercing eyes.
The same devastating smile I used to dream about.
But he wasn't Ryker.
He was Riven Hale—his twin.
And he was about to become my husband.
The chapel was suffocating, packed with guests who smiled politely, unaware that the bride was breaking inside. My fingers clenched around the bouquet, knuckles white. I glanced sideways. Riven didn't even look at me.
He didn't want this marriage any more than I did.
But neither of us had a choice.
"Do you, Riven Hale, take Elara Quinn to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
A silence so loud it screamed.
He finally spoke. "I do."
A chill ran down my spine.
His voice was smooth, hollow, like this was just another business deal. I wanted to scream, this wasn't supposed to be him.
"Do you, Elara Quinn—"
My lips parted.
I could say no. I could run. I could beg for Ryker instead.
But Ryker hadn't come. He hadn't even replied to my last message.
"I… do."
And just like that, I became Mrs. Elara Hale.
Not to the man I loved—
but to the man who hated love.