She changed out of the bridal outfit slowly, placing each piece of jewellery on the dresser like setting down pieces of her Pride. The silence in the mansion was deafening.
Somewhere behind those walls, he was probably pouring himself a drink thinking she wear weak. Unworthy
She laughed under her breath - not out of joy, but something sharper.
Aria Valente (FL)
"let's see how long you last"
She whispered to herself, voice colder than ice.
This was going to be war.
A marriage built on power, hate, and secrets.
And one-day... He'd realize who he was married to.
But by then, it might be too late.
The morning after:-
The sunlight slipped through the tall glass windows of the mansion, casting sharp lines across the cold marble floors.
Aira had been awake for hours.
Showered. Dressed. Hair pinned back neatly. A calm expression masking the quiet storm inside her.
Down in the massive, modern kitchen, she moved with practiced ease. Eggs, toast, black coffee — simple, efficient. She didn’t bother with extravagance. She wasn’t trying to impress him. She was simply... doing her part. Whatever that meant now.
The table was set. Two plates. Two mugs. Silence.
Until the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs.
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