Chapter 5 The wedding day

Victoria's POV

"Who are you? Why are you pulling me? Let go!" I whispered harshly, my voice trembling as the church lights flickered back on. In an instant, everything was back to normal. The altar, the guests, the flowers...all eyes on me. No one else seemed to notice what had just happened. The tug. The hand. That cold breath against my neck. And yet... no one was there.

I swallowed the panic that burned my throat and quickly slipped my hand around Scott's arm, pasting on a smile I didn't feel. My fingers clenched around his suit sleeve as if holding on for dear life.

Scott leaned in, his warm breath brushing against my ear. "What just happened? Who touched you?"

I couldn't speak. My throat was dry, and my heart was thundering like a war drum. I couldn't tell him. I wasn't even sure I could tell myself. But the fear had carved itself into me. "Are you okay?" he added, his voice low and laced with concern.

I just nodded, even though I was anything but okay. He turned me gently toward him, then dipped me into a kiss that silenced the whispers around us. The guests erupted in applause. My eyes flew open in surprise...this wasn't planned. But somehow, in that moment, the press of his lips steadied the whirlwind inside me.

I forced myself to smile and lean into the illusion. When we walked down the aisle together, my heart had begun to calm, at least until I noticed the paper in my palm. Folded. Tightly pressed. As if someone had stuffed it there.

How?

The smile on my lips twitched as I subtly curled my fingers around it. The limousine waited outside, shimmering like a sleek promise of a life I wasn't sure I wanted. The moment the door shut behind us, Scott turned to me.

"Tell me the truth. What happened back there? You looked like you'd seen a ghost." I hesitated. The lie was on my tongue before I even thought about it.

"I guess... just nerves. It's a big day." I didn't look at him. Instead, I stared out the window like the answers were written in the sky.

His eyes lingered on my face. "Victoria. Don't lie to me. You're shaking." I forced a breath and turned with a weak smile. "Then maybe hold my hand."

He did. Softly. Without a word. I kept the paper hidden in my lap, fingers trembling around it.

The car soon pulled up to my old home. I had to gather my bags, already packed and waiting. I stepped inside, unsure what to feel. The air smelled like memories and lavender. It was the last time I'd ever walk through these doors as a Crestwood.

"Victoria," a soft voice called. I turned. My mother stood by my bedroom door, eyes glistening.

"Mom..."

She walked forward and pulled me into her arms. Her perfume...a familiar blend of roses and something faintly citrusy...wrapped around me like a memory I didn't want to let go.

"I know this isn't the life you dreamed of," she whispered, tears trickling onto my shoulder. "But Scott... he's kind. He'll protect you. We've asked around. He has a good name."

I pulled back slowly, nodding. Her concern was sincere. But it didn't change anything. "Thanks, Mom," I whispered. "But I have to go."

She watched me walk out like she was trying to memorize the sound of my steps. I looked back once.

The past was behind me, and the future was a blur.

.....................................................

Scott stayed quiet most of the ride. I appreciated the silence, especially with the note still burning in my palm. I still hadn't read it. I was too afraid of what it might say. Too afraid it might confirm that I wasn't losing my mind.

We pulled up to a mansion that looked like something out of a dream. High gates. White stone walls. A fountain that glittered in the evening light. Flowers lined the path in vibrant colors like a parade waiting to begin.

"Home sweet home," Scott said with a soft grin. I wanted to smile back. But I couldn't. Not yet.

He stepped out and offered his hand. I refused. "You go ahead. I can walk."

A flicker of disappointment crossed his face, but he nodded and led the way inside. I followed, feeling like a stranger entering someone else's fairy tale.

His staff moved like shadows, efficient and silent. My bags were already being unpacked-into the master bedroom.

My eyes widened. "Are we... sharing a room?" Scott turned to me. "Yes. Isn't that what married couples do?"

"We're not really married, Scott. Not emotionally. Not in the way that matters." I turned sharply and walked out to the grand living room, arms crossed, fury bubbling beneath my skin. I felt him follow me, his steps measured.

I stood near the tall glass window, admiring the view, trying to distract myself from the tension stretching between us like a rubber band about to snap.

"You like art?" he asked behind me. I turned around fast, my heart leaping into my throat. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

His hands lifted in defense. "Sorry." "And for the record, I'm not sleeping in the same room with you. Not tonight. Not ever."

He blinked, then gave me a look I couldn't read. "You're... really something." I glared at him.

"I like it," he added with a half-smile. "I like a woman with fire."

He walked over to the side table and picked up a key. "Your bags are being moved. Across the hall. Here's the key to your room." I stared at him. "That's it? You're not going to argue? Demand?"

"You said what you needed. I listened." He placed the key in my hand and walked away. Just like that.

I was stunned. It was the first time someone listened to me without trying to control me.

As I entered the room he'd chosen for me, my breath caught. It was beautiful. Elegant lavender drapes, a king-size bed with soft velvet covers, walls adorned with delicate paintings. It was like a princess's room from a forgotten story.

But the moment was stolen by the note still clenched in my fist. I sat on the bed and slowly unfolded it.

"He isn't who you think he is. You're not safe. Midnight. Red door. Come alone."

My blood ran cold. I folded the note again, staring at the floor. Scott. What was he hiding?

Was I walking into a life of luxury... or a cage lined in gold?

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. I tucked the note under my pillow. Scott's voice came through the door. "I ordered dinner. In the garden. Thought you might be hungry."

I hesitated. My fingers brushed over the hidden note. "Coming," I replied. Maybe he was kind.

Maybe he was dangerous. I had until midnight to find out.

As I stepped out into the moonlit garden with Scott, laughing at something he said, I caught movement in the trees.

A figure. Watching. Waiting, and I knew I wasn't imagining it this time. Tonight, everything would change.