Page 25 of Forced Pregnant Bride

Needless to say, years later, I didn’t have to do much to follow that advice.

Klavdia seemed like the type, too, but I doubted that we’d ever get to the stage where we’d share bits and pieces of our lives over cups of tea and biscuits, and I’d get to know if she had grandchildren.

She also said I wasn’t supposed to let mysoon-to-be husbandsee it. He’d already made it very clear that he found tears sickening.

Carefully dabbing the tears off under my eyes, I fixed my mascara and eyeliner, aiming to reappear brand new, like a gift wrapped with yards of white lace and a sparkly tiara. After all, we didn’t want the lord of the manor falling sick at the sight of me.

A gentle but heavy knock resounded on the door, and I stepped away from the full-body-length mirror. The silence at the other end of the door told me it was Klavdia, quietly reminding me that I was fifteen minutes late for my own wedding.

Clutching my bouquet as though it were my savior, I stared at my reflection, refusing to acknowledge how beautiful and dreamy I looked, like a princess. If I acknowledged it, it meant I was ready to fully accept what this day symbolized. And I wasn’t fully ready. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be.

Although, I did have to exit the room at some point.

Sniffling, I walked over to the door, my heart suddenly saddled with the painful reminder that I had no one waiting for me on that field. I had no family, no one to walk me down the aisle or watch me legally march into the arms of my husband.

I hadn’t seen or heard from Jayden since the last time I saw him that night, tied up, bloodied, and unconscious.

“Hurry. He’s waiting.”

At leasthewas waiting.

I joined her, following quietly as she led me down a winding staircase, past a grand foyer, and finally to the back of the house. There, the view of the vast green estate looked even more cinematic, with white chairs arranged neatly in rows on the green grass and a floral pattern for extra decoration.

For a loveless marriage, they sure invested hours into making the scene appear authentic.

Probably for tabloids and the news, I thought, starting my slow walk down the petal-filled aisle.

It wasn’t long before I stood before him. BeforeTimurYezhov.

As already noted, he was handsome in an unreal way. He had a neatly trimmed buzz cut, determined lips, and a dark tuxedo that looked off on a man like him but strangely suited him.

His frame loomed over me, forcing my head up to gaze at him.

I felt the weight of the moment pressing down on me like a thick fog. My heart raced, a chaotic drumbeat echoing in my ears as I glanced around the beautifully adorned field. Soft sunlight streamed through the trees, pouring its warm rays on us, but it did little to brighten the heaviness in my chest.

It took a moment before I really acknowledged that we had a clear sky on our wedding day. No rain. Even the weather seemed to approve of this mismatched union.

I was overwhelmed with a mixture of nerves and sadness. Today, I was marrying a man I had to teach myself to respect and admire, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was standing on the precipice of a life I hadn’t chosen for myself.

My thoughts drifted to Jay, the reason I was here, and it hurt me that he wasn’t even here to witness the sacrifice I had to make.

I had accepted my fate as his wife, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I could truly make this work. Could I find happiness in a marriage born from obligation rather than love?

Timur’s deep, steady voice broke through my spiraling thoughts as he vowed to cherish me, to support me through the ebbs and flows of life. I felt his gaze piercing through my uncertainty, grounding me in the moment.

His words were as stiff and rigid as the look in his stone-cold eyes. I had no doubt that he’d picked his vows from the internet. Maybe, if he could make it possible, someone else would have eased him of the stress, saved his time, and said the vows for him.

Heaving, I repeated my vows, the very same traditional strings of words Klavdia had helped me memorize.

My pulse quickened further as the officiant announced it was time for the kiss—the moment that would seal this new chapter of my life for good.

Timur leaned down, and I felt his warm breath against my skin, mingling with the scent of his cologne—a blend of cedarwood and something earthy that sent shivers down my spine.

I shut my eyes and felt myself waiting.

Waiting for the moment, the impact, the proof I needed to convince myself that living with this statue of a man would be the worst mistake I’d make.

I expected my skin to crawl.

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