CH 18

AUTHOR'S POV ~

The venue was packed with well-dressed guests, murmuring in excitement as they awaited the arrival of the bride. Lucian stood at the altar, expression unreadable, his sharp suit tailored to perfection. His friends stood beside him, exchanging subtle glances, knowing better than to comment on his lack of enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, at the entrance, Eleanor’s heart pounded as she held onto her father’s arm. Her friends had arrived early in the morning as planned, and their presence had provided her with a sense of comfort. Now, they stood just behind her, their excitement evident.

"You’re seriously getting married," Olivia whispered with a grin.

Eleanor rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. "It’s a little late to back out now."

"Not unless you run," one of her other friends joked.

"That wouldn’t go well," Eleanor replied dryly.

"Well, at least you look stunning," Olivia said, squeezing her hand. "Go out there and own it."

Taking a deep breath, Eleanor straightened her posture as the wedding march began. The massive doors swung open, revealing the breathtaking aisle leading up to where Lucian stood.

With each step she took, the weight of the moment settled in. She could feel countless eyes on her, but her gaze remained fixed ahead—on Lucian.

And, for just a fleeting second, she thought she saw something in his eyes. A flicker of something unreadable.

But it was gone just as quickly.

As she finally reached him, Lucian extended a hand.

Eleanor hesitated for the briefest moment before placing hers in his.

The ceremony had begun.

The officiant’s voice rang through the grand hall, yet Eleanor barely registered the words. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, drowning out everything but the weight of the moment.

Lucian’s grip on her hand was firm, steady, but void of warmth.

He stood tall, composed, his expression unreadable as always.

From the outside, it seemed like just another business deal for him—an arrangement, a contract.

But for Eleanor, this was more than just a piece of paper.

Her gaze flickered toward the crowd. Her mother wiped at the corners of her eyes, her father sitting beside her, ever the composed businessman but visibly proud. Her friends sat in the front row, Olivia shooting her an encouraging smile, while the others gave subtle thumbs-ups.

She had always thought that when she got married, it would be different—filled with love, excitement, and overwhelming happiness. Instead, she was here, standing before a man who barely looked at her, repeating vows that felt more like legal statements than heartfelt promises.

Still, she held her head high.

Lucian recited his vows with practiced ease, his voice even and emotionless. Eleanor repeated hers, her voice steady despite the knot in her chest.

"Do you, Lucian Blackwood, take Eleanor Hayes to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

A brief pause—so brief that it might have gone unnoticed by others.

But Eleanor noticed.

"I do." His voice was smooth, unwavering.

"And do you, Eleanor Hayes, take Lucian Blackwood to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

She inhaled sharply. This was it.

"I do."

"Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

A round of applause erupted from the crowd.

Lucian turned to face her, and for the first time, their eyes locked in a way that sent a strange shiver down her spine.

His gaze was intense, unreadable, and before she could even process it, he leaned in.

It was supposed to be a brief, formal kiss. A simple press of lips to seal the deal.

But when his lips brushed against hers, a jolt of something unrecognizable shot through her. It was fleeting—so fast that she might have imagined it—but it left her momentarily breathless.

Then it was over.

Lucian pulled away as if nothing had happened, his expression as indifferent as ever.

He turned toward the applauding guests, giving a small nod, while Eleanor forced a smile, reminding herself that this was just a duty. Nothing more.

But as they walked back down the aisle together, hands still intertwined, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted—something she wasn’t quite ready to name.

The reception was lavish, the ballroom glittering under golden chandeliers. Guests mingled, offering their congratulations, while Eleanor and Lucian sat at the grand table, the weight of expectations pressing down on them.

"You look beautiful," Olivia whispered when she came over, squeezing Eleanor’s shoulder.

Eleanor smiled. "At least someone thinks so."

Olivia shot a glance at Lucian, who was deep in conversation with his business associates. "He’s not the type to openly admit it, but he noticed. Trust me."

Eleanor let out a small laugh. "If you say so."

The evening dragged on with formalities—the first dance, speeches, endless conversations with guests who barely knew them.

Through it all, Lucian remained his usual self—polite, controlled, detached.

But every now and then, Eleanor caught him watching her. Not for long. Just quick, fleeting glances.

And every time, she wondered—what exactly was he thinking?

Hours later, as they stepped into the car that would take them away, Eleanor exhaled slowly, staring at the passing lights of the city.

She was now Eleanor Blackwood.

And whether she liked it or not, this was only the beginning.

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