Chapter 4

The Ceremony

The grand ballroom gleamed like a stage built for kings. Gold chandeliers dripped light onto rows of suited men and jeweled women. But the whispers were louder than the music—Where is Scarlett? Why is her sister in white?

At the back of the hall, Evelina Grace Knight stood silent, her face hidden beneath the long veil. The bridal gown weighed heavy on her fragile frame. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, but she made no sound.

Her father, Charles Knight, crouched to slip the crystal heels onto her feet. His hands trembled as he fastened the straps, his once commanding presence reduced to a broken father. Rising, he squeezed her small hand tightly in his.

“You are saving us, Evelina,” he whispered hoarsely, though the guilt in his eyes said otherwise.

She said nothing. Words were too fragile to survive this moment.

Together, they walked down the aisle. Her veil floated like a shroud, hiding her tears from the crowd’s hungry stares.

At the altar, Dante Alessio Moretti stood tall, a dark pillar of control. His broad shoulders were wrapped in black silk, his posture unbending. His face betrayed nothing, but his eyes—dark, unyielding—burned with quiet fury.

When Charles reached the altar, he placed Evelina’s hand into Dante’s. The contrast was striking—her soft, trembling fingers swallowed in his rough, immovable grip.

“Treat her well,” Charles murmured, his voice breaking.

Dante didn’t respond. His jaw flexed, his gaze never leaving Evelina’s hidden face. Fire smoldered in his eyes, a silent warning that words meant nothing now.

The priest began the vows. His voice rang through the chamber like an echo from another world.

“Repeat after me…”

Evelina’s voice quivered when she spoke, petals shaking in a storm. Dante’s response was low, commanding, a vow spoken more like a sentence.

Her hand trembled in his grip, his hold steady and merciless.

When the rings were exchanged, Dante slid the diamond band—an empire’s worth of wealth—onto her delicate finger. It gleamed coldly under the chandeliers, a chain disguised as beauty.

Finally, the priest’s voice called for the kiss.

Dante stepped forward, lifting her veil with one swift motion. The crowd gasped softly. Her teary eyes were revealed, glistening like fragile glass, her lips trembling.

He didn’t falter. He tilted her chin upward with one strong hand and pressed his lips to hers—a firm, cold peck. No passion. No tenderness. Just possession.

Then he stepped back. The priest’s voice declared them husband and wife. The crowd erupted in applause, though the air still crackled with whispers.

Evelina lowered her gaze. A single tear escaped down her cheek, hidden beneath the veil once more.

Hours later, Evelina sat alone in a dimly lit hotel suite, the gown still heavy on her shoulders. She stared at her hand—the massive diamond ring glinting like a shackle.

Her world had shifted in a single day. Scarlett was gone. Her life was no longer hers.

Downstairs, the true ceremony was underway.

In the private golden lounge of the hotel, the Knights sat across from the Morettis. The tension was thick as smoke.

Giancarlo Moretti’s laugh was sharp and merciless. “You Americans… so careless with your daughters. One runs like a coward, the other handed over like a lamb. And yet, you expect respect?”

Charles Knight clenched his jaw, Margaret lowered her head, fighting back humiliation.

Isabella Moretti sipped her wine gracefully, her words dripping with poison. “The world witnessed your disgrace. Do you think a simple apology will mend it? No. There must be retribution.”

“What do you want?” Charles forced out, his voice tight.

Adriano leaned forward, eyes glinting with malice. “For starters? Your empire. You will hand over your territories, your ports, your contacts. From this day, the Knights will be under Moretti command.”

Charles stiffened. Margaret gasped. “That would destroy us—”

Giancarlo’s hand slammed the table. “It is not destruction. It is punishment. Your family owes us blood. We will take power instead.”

Silence. The Knights were cornered, stripped of dignity. Their punishment was sealed.

Upstairs, Evelina sat quietly, oblivious to the words being spoken in her name, her ring still heavy on her hand, marking her as both wife and collateral

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