Chapter 2 Identity Carelessly Revealed

Yazmin Collymore stood before the grand mirror, the soft glow of the vanity lights framing her reflection in a halo of warmth. She tried to fanthom the lady that was staring back at her. It couldn't possibly be her, she couldn't possibly be this desperate. As much as she tried to convince herself that she was doing the right thing by saving herself and the Sinclairs from humiliation, there was this nagging feeling.

The feeling that she was wrong. The feeling that she should turn back and run as far away from the humiliation as possible. But it was too late, she was already wearing the wedding gown draped over her form, its intricate lace and delicate beadwork shimmering under the soft illumination. Her heart raced, uncertainty coursing through her veins.

Her fingers traced the intricate patterns on the bodice, her reflection still staring back at her with sapphire eyes that held a whirlwind of emotions. Was this really happening?

Yazmin finally lowered her veil, covering her face. This was it, the moment of truth. As she heard a soft knock on the door, she quickly sat by the dressing table, pretending to cut a loose tread from her dress.

A middle aged woman walked in, concern etched on her feature. She stood beside Yazmin, placing her hand on her shoulder, she spoke. "Are you sure you want to do this, Freya? I know Mr Sinclair is paying you to get married to him but I think you should think it through. Is all the money worth it without true happiness?" The middle aged woman said.

Yazmin was shocked, how could 'the' Blaine Sinclair be paying Freya to get married to him? That explained why he was marrying a woman from a lower class like Freya. Yazmin sighed and then nodded, determined to keep her facade.

The middle aged woman led her out of the room and with each step Yazmin took, she felt she was closer to her doom. As she stood behind the ornate doors of the grand ballroom, her heart raced like a wild stallion. She adjusted the veil that concealed her face, her fingers trembling. The scent of fresh flowers permeated the air, mingling with the soft strains of a string quartet playing a gentle melody in the background.

Yazmin took a deep breath, her pulse quickening with each passing second. This was not how she'd imagined her involvement in this wedding. It was supposed to be a seamless orchestration of perfection, not a desperate attempt to save her reputation.

The door creaked open, and the sunlight flooded the room, illuminating the elegant aisle adorned with petals of white and gold. As the music swelled, Yazmin took her first step, her heart pounding in rhythm with the melody.

The gazes of the few guests that were allowed in to witness the wedding, bore into her, their curiosity and intrigue evident. They all wanted to know who Blaine Sinclair's bride was and why her identity had been tightly concealed so far.

As Yazmin approached the altar, she sighted her groom standing by the alter but she could not see clearly because of her veil. He reached out to take her gloved hand in his. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through her, and for a milli second, she forgot the charade she was embroiled in.

The officiant began to speak, the words blending together as Yazmin struggled to steady her racing thoughts. As the vows were exchanged, she silently prayed that nothing should go wrong.

And then, the moment arrived. The officiant looked to her, his gaze expectant, waiting for her response. Yazmin's voice wavered slightly as she recited her vows, her voice choking at every syllable. The gravity of the situation hit her – the irony of pledging her commitment to a man she had never met.

The groom's grip tightened on her hand as they exchanged rings. It felt like the room held its collective breath, the silence palpable as they were declared "husband and wife."

"You may now kiss your bride" The officiant's voice, instead of cutting through the air, cut through Yazmin's heart.

Yazmin clenched her shaky hands. Kiss the bride? Why? What for? Why? She would automatically be ruined if her veil was pulled up. Her breath was persistent as she struggled not to panic. Her palms were sweaty and she popped her knuckles. She took in three deep breaths for no reason and her legs were shaking as she could see the groom's hand, slowly holding the tip of her veil.

She closed her eyes shut, waiting for her fate but for a moment, nothing happened. She slowly fluttered her eyes open as she looked up at her groom.

"I don't think we wanna kiss in front of y'all" she heard his masculine voice say, his voice weavered but resolute.

Yazmin let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. The wedding finally came to an end and she could feel her groom's grip tight on hers as her led her out of the wedding hall.

As they drew closer to the dressing room, his grip still on hers, Yazmin could feel her heart freezing with fear. What was happening? Why was he saving her from the crowd? Did he perhaps suspect something?

Raindrops began to fall, as if even the weather mirrored the turmoil within Yazmin. The sky, which had been clear just moments ago, transformed into a canvas of gray, and the rain pelted down like tears from the heavens. The drops were heavy on the ceiling, the only sound that distracted her from thinking about what was coming her way.

Finally, they entered into the dressing room and he roughly dropped her hand, as she could hear him slam the door behind them.

Yazmin's pulse quickened and her senses heighten as she took a step back. She could feel tension reverberating through the room as they both remained silent. With her veil still on, she could hear him sigh as he took a seat.

"I know you're not Freya" She heard him say, his voice calm but convincing.

Yazmin couldn't help herself. Her jaws dropped to the floor and her eyebrows shot to the ceiling. How did he figure it out? Had she made a mistake in perfecting her facade?

Slowly, she raised her veil and looked up at her groom, their eyes locking unto each other. Yazmin felt her heart skip a beat. She had heard a lot about Blaine Sinclair, especially about his good look but right now, he exceeded all her expectations.

She couldn't get a good look at him during the ceremony because of her veil but now that she could, she wondered how she would be able to get her eyes off him. He was really charming. His brown eyes sparkled with mischief, and the smirk on his face made her heart skip again.

He was beyond handsome, with dark hair that was a bit messy but looked good. His suit fit perfectly, showing off his strong shoulders. She noticed little lines around his eyes that told her he frowned a lot.

Getting a grip of herself, Yazmin found her words, "I'm so sorry, Mr Sinclair. I had my reasons for doing this" she managed to say, avoiding his penetrating gaze.

The fact that he didn't give her a reply, instead he scoffed, made Yazmin more tensed. Her palms were sweaty as she listened carefully for any reaction or words from him but there was none.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, she spoke again, hoping for a more productive response this time, "I understand how you're feeling right now, Mr Sinclair but..."

Yazmin couldn't finish her statement, the vibration from her phone interrupted her. She reached for the small pocket in her inner robe and pulled it out. With a sinking feeling, she read the message that had just popped up on the screen. Her heart clenched as the words blurred before her eyes – "Mom was rushed to hospital. Come now."

Dread washed over her like a cold wave, numbing her thoughts as panic set in. She felt a lump form in my throat, making it hard for her to breathe.

Without saying a word, Yazmin rushed out of the room into the hallway. Everything around her seemed to blur as the world momentarily stopped spinning. She quickened her steps as she made her way down the stairs, bumping into an old couple.

She didn't apologize, she didn't have the time to. But as she approached closer to the exit, a swan of reporters gathered around her. Cameras clicked, capturing her in frozen frames.

"You're Mr Blaine Sinclair's new bride?" "What's your real name?" "Why has he been keeping your identity hidden so far?" "How did you guys meet?" "Aren't you a wedding planner?" "Why would your plan your own wedding?"

Their voice blurred together as Yazmin came to the realization that she was still in her wedding dress and her identity had just been found. She froze, as she felt a rising tide of fear from her head to her toe.