It was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
Amelia stood before the full-length mirror, dressed in a custom-made ivory gown that shimmered with pearls under the soft lighting of the dressing room. The veil draped delicately over her shoulders, her hair twisted into an elegant bun. Everything was perfect on the outside.
But inside, her hands trembled.
The bridal suite was too quiet. No bridesmaids laughing, no excited chatter from friends. Just the hum of air conditioning and the muffled sounds of a classical quartet playing in the garden below.
This wasn't a fairytale wedding. It was an arrangement.
At twenty-four, Amelia Bennett was now Mrs. Alexander Stone the wife of the most powerful and mysterious billionaire in the city. CEO of Stone Enterprises. Thirty-five. Cold as steel. And until a month ago, a complete stranger.
Their marriage had been negotiated by their families. A business alliance masked as a union of love. Her father, drowning in debt and scandal. His, a strategic genius with a legacy to protect. Amelia was the bridge that joined two crumbling empires.
The door opened.
"You're ready," said a woman with a tight bun and tighter smile. One of the household staff. "Mr. Stone is waiting."
Amelia took a breath and followed. The ceremony was held in the family's private estate no press, no guests outside of close relatives. A garden filled with white roses and silent judgment.
When she appeared, all heads turned. Some smiled politely. Others didn't bother.
And then she saw him.
Alexander Stone stood tall beneath a floral arch, dressed in a classic black tuxedo. He looked like something out of a luxury magazine broad shoulders, chiseled jaw, eyes the color of winter rain. But those eyes were unreadable. He barely glanced at her as she approached.
He didn't smile.
No whispered compliment.
No hand to hold hers.
The officiant spoke, vows were exchanged, rings were slipped on fingers like a transaction being finalized. When it was time to kiss, Alexander brushed his lips against her cheek a formality.
Polite. Distant. Cold.
As they walked back down the aisle, her new husband offered his arm. She took it, feeling more like a fragile accessory than a wife.
The wedding dinner was no better.
Long table. White linens. Crystal glasses. Twenty silent strangers.
Amelia sat beside Alexander, who scrolled through his phone between courses. When someone raised a toast to their "happy future," he nodded without lifting his glass.
"Do you enjoy caviar?" he asked flatly, without looking at her.
She swallowed. "It's fine."
"Good. You'll be served it often at these events."
His tone wasn't rude, but it wasn't warm either. Just...indifferent. As if she were an assistant he barely knew.
After dessert, he stood and offered his hand. "Let's go."
They entered a sleek black car. The driver didn't speak. Neither did they.
When they reached the Stone Mansion a towering blend of glass and old-world stone Amelia was stunned by the sheer scale. Guards at the gate. A private elevator. Marble floors and walls that echoed too easily.
She followed him to the master bedroom.
"You'll have your own room," he said, opening a door to the left. "We'll keep things...convenient."
She blinked. "Right."
He gave her a once-over. Not in lust. In calculation. Then, a curt nod. "Good night."
The door shut.
Alone in her room, Amelia finally let the tears fall.
She sat on the edge of the bed, still in her wedding dress, her chest tight. No friends to call. No mother to hug her. Just her and the silence.
What had she done?
But even as the pain bloomed in her chest, something else stirred resolve.
She hadn't married into this world to be invisible. She wouldn't allow herself to become just a shadow in Alexander's life. The mansion might be cold, the people cruel, but she was not weak.
She would learn.
She would adapt.
She would survive this world and maybe,
just maybe, make him see her.
Not as a pawn.
But as a woman he couldn't ignore.