Chapter 5 The announcement was scheduled for noon

The announcement was scheduled for noon. By eleven-thirty, Alessandra found herself standing before an ornate mirror in one of the Arquette estate's many dressing rooms, her reflection framed by gold filigree.

The dress chosen for her was a statement-an elegant white ensemble that whispered wealth and power without trying too hard. The silk fabric hugged her frame, the high neckline adding a touch of sophistication, while the long sleeves gave her an air of quiet restraint. A pair of diamond earrings, undoubtedly selected by Isabella Arquette herself, dangled from her ears, catching the soft light.

Everything about her appearance was designed to project the image of the perfect Arquette wife.

Except, she wasn't.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Come in."

The door opened, and Lucian stepped inside, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit that fit him with effortless precision. He was the embodiment of control, of power wrapped in restraint.

Alessandra expected him to simply tell her it was time, but instead, he lingered by the door, his gaze sweeping over her.

"You look..." He hesitated, as if searching for the right word.

Alessandra arched a brow. "Presentable?"

His lips twitched slightly, but the amusement didn't reach his eyes. "Acceptable."

She laughed softly, the sound more bitter than amused. "You really are a charmer, aren't you?"

Lucian stepped closer, closing the distance between them with an ease that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. "This isn't about charm, Alessandra."

She held his gaze. "No, it's about control."

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

"We both have roles to play," he said after a pause. "And for today, I need you to play yours well."

Alessandra tilted her head slightly. "And what exactly is my role?"

Lucian's expression was unreadable, but his voice was firm. "You're my wife."

There it was again. The cold reminder of what this was-a transaction, nothing more.

Alessandra exhaled slowly, smoothing an invisible crease on her dress. "Fine. Let's go play pretend."

The press conference was held in the grand hall of the Arquette estate, a room lined with towering bookshelves and portraits of generations past. A long table was set up at the front, microphones neatly arranged. The room was already filled with reporters, their cameras flashing as the doors opened.

Lucian walked beside her, his presence steady, unshakable. He didn't look at her, didn't acknowledge her, but his hand rested lightly on the small of her back-a silent, possessive gesture meant for the cameras.

Alessandra kept her expression composed, her lips curved into the perfect diplomatic smile.

They took their seats at the table. Isabella was already there, seated at Lucian's right, her posture flawless. She offered Alessandra a brief glance, her approval neither given nor denied.

A man in a crisp suit stepped forward, clearing his throat. "Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for joining us on this special occasion."

The room quieted, anticipation thick in the air.

"We are here today to formally announce the union between Lucian Arquette and his wife, Alessandra Arquette."

Applause filled the room. Alessandra kept her smile in place, though her fingers curled slightly against her lap.

Lucian reached for the microphone, his voice smooth and authoritative. "As many of you know, the Arquette family holds tradition and legacy in the highest regard. This marriage is not only a union between two individuals but a commitment to the future of our family."

A commitment to the future.

Not to love. Not to companionship.

Just duty.

Reporters immediately fired questions.

"Mr. Arquette, how did the two of you meet?"

Lucian barely hesitated. "Through our families."

A vague but diplomatic answer.

Another reporter stood. "Mrs. Arquette, was this an arranged marriage?"

Alessandra smiled, tilting her head slightly. "Every great partnership is built on a foundation of mutual respect and shared goals. Lucian and I both understand the importance of this union."

She didn't say yes. But she didn't deny it either.

Lucian's gaze flickered toward her, a subtle glance of approval.

"Mr. Arquette," another voice called out, "some sources claim that you had no intentions of remarrying. What changed?"

The air tensed.

Lucian's fingers tapped lightly against the table. "Circumstances evolve. Priorities shift."

A perfectly controlled answer.

But Alessandra caught the flicker of something else beneath his composure. A moment of hesitation.

The questions continued-about their future, about children, about expectations. Lucian answered with the ease of a man used to public scrutiny, while Alessandra mirrored his poise, navigating the delicate balance of speaking just enough, but never too much.

It wasn't until one reporter's voice cut through the air that the atmosphere shifted.

"Mr. Arquette," the woman began, standing near the back, "there are rumors that your late wife, Vivienne Laurent, is still the love of your life. How do you respond to claims that this marriage is simply a replacement?"

Silence.

Even the cameras seemed to pause.

Alessandra's breath caught in her throat, but she didn't turn to Lucian. Instead, she kept her gaze trained on the reporters, waiting.

Lucian's expression remained unreadable.

"My past is exactly that-the past," he said, his voice smooth, controlled. "Alessandra is my wife now. And that is the only truth that matters."

A flawless answer. One that left no room for further questioning.

But the way his fingers curled ever so slightly against the table told a different story.

The press conference wrapped up soon after, the tension lingering even as the room began to empty.

As soon as they were alone, Alessandra turned to Lucian. "Vivienne."

His jaw tightened.

"That's the name I'll always be compared to, isn't it?"

Lucian didn't look at her. "It doesn't matter."

Alessandra let out a quiet laugh, though there was no humor in it. "It does to them. And it will to your mother."

Lucian exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I won't ask you to compete with a ghost."

"But I already am, aren't I?"

His silence was answer enough.

Alessandra straightened, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist. "Then I'll make one thing clear, Lucian."

He finally turned to her.

"I won't live in another woman's shadow."

For the first time since they had met, something in Lucian's cold exterior seemed to crack. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face.

But just as quickly, it was gone.

"Understood," he murmured.

Yet, as he walked away, Alessandra couldn't shake the feeling that she was standing at the edge of something dangerous.