Chapter 2 – A Wedding in Chains

The wedding was not the dream Elaine Lee once imagined as a child. There were no fairy lights strung in gardens, no laughter of friends and family, no dress chosen after hours of daydreaming in front of mirrors. Instead, the ceremony was cold, businesslike—an exchange of power, not love.

Elaine sat in front of the vanity mirror inside a gilded room of the Alfie mansion, her reflection almost unrecognizable. The ivory silk gown hugged her figure, the lace veil draped delicately over her dark hair. She looked every bit the perfect bride. Yet, when she stared into her own eyes, all she saw was a prisoner in disguise.

A knock sounded at the door. She didn’t answer, but it opened anyway.

Drake Alfie stepped inside.

He wasn’t in a tuxedo like a groom from magazines. Instead, he wore a perfectly tailored black suit, understated but commanding. The silver watch at his wrist gleamed under the chandelier. His expression was unreadable, carved from stone.

Elaine stood abruptly, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “Do you always barge into a bride’s room before the wedding?”

Drake’s lips curved faintly. “Only when the bride looks like she’s plotting an escape.”

She glared at him. “Maybe I am.”

He stepped closer, his gray eyes locking onto hers. “Run if you want, Elaine. But know this—there’s nowhere in this city you can hide from me. From us.”

The casual way he said it made her stomach twist. She wanted to shout, to push him away, but her body betrayed her. She felt the weight of his presence, the danger and power that clung to him like a second skin.

“You’re a monster,” she hissed, her voice shaking.

“No,” he replied calmly, “I’m a man who doesn’t lose. Not in business. Not in war. And not in marriage.”

The audacity of his words sent heat flooding through her. How dare he speak of marriage like a transaction? But before she could spit her rage, the door opened again. A woman entered—tall, sharp-featured, dressed in black.

“Boss,” she said, nodding at Drake. “It’s time.”

Drake gave Elaine one last lingering look before turning away. “Let’s go, wife-to-be.”

The ceremony was held in the grand hall of the Alfie estate. Heavy chandeliers dripped golden light over long tables of guests—men in dark suits, women with sharp diamonds at their throats. Elaine recognized none of them, but she could feel their eyes on her, their whispers grazing her skin.

The officiant spoke, words blurring in her ears. Elaine barely heard her father’s trembling breath as he watched from the front row, guilt carved into his features. All she could hear was her own heartbeat pounding against her ribs, a frantic rhythm of protest.

When it came time for the vows, Drake’s voice was steady, each word deliberate. “I take you, Elaine Lee, as my wife. To honor this bond, to protect it, and to never let it be broken.”

Protect it. The word struck her. Was that what this was to him? Protection—or ownership?

Then it was her turn. Her throat tightened. Every pair of eyes drilled into her, waiting. Her father’s silent plea burned in her chest. Finally, she forced the words out. “I… take you, Drake Alfie, as my husband.”

A signature. A sentence sealing her fate.

When the officiant declared them husband and wife, Drake’s hand cupped her chin, tilting her face toward his. His kiss was brief, barely more than a brush of lips, but it was enough to send fire rushing through her veins. She hated the way her body reacted, how her skin tingled under his touch.

The hall erupted in applause. But to Elaine, it sounded like the closing of prison gates.

Later that night, the mansion was quieter. Guests had left, the music silenced, the echo of laughter fading. Elaine stood by the balcony of her new bedroom, the city lights sprawling endlessly before her. She felt small, insignificant, like a bird trapped in a gilded cage.

The door opened. She didn’t turn, but she knew who it was.

Drake leaned against the frame, watching her. “You should rest. It’s been a long day.”

Elaine spun toward him, her anger bubbling to the surface. “Rest? After you’ve stolen my life? Do you really think I can just sleep, knowing I’m chained to you forever?”

Drake’s jaw tightened. For the first time, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—regret? Or was it just irritation?

“You think I wanted this?” he said, his voice low.

Elaine froze. She hadn’t expected that.

“I could have taken your father’s life instead,” Drake continued, stepping closer. “It would’ve been easier. Cleaner. But I didn’t.”

“Why?” she whispered, her throat dry.

He stopped just inches away, his presence overwhelming. “Because you’re worth more alive than dead. You’re leverage. You’re…” He paused, studying her face. “…something I can’t explain.”

Elaine’s breath caught. For a moment, she saw a crack in his armor, a glimpse of the man behind the mafia boss. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Goodnight, Elaine,” he said, turning away.

As he left the room, Elaine’s chest ached with confusion. She hated him, feared him. Yet, against all reason, she wanted to understand him. And that terrified her more than anything.

She wasn’t sure if she had married a monster, or if the real danger was how easily she could be pulled into his world.

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