Chapter 1 The Wrong Man

Chapter One: The Wrong Man

Aria Vale didn't move.

She just stood there, still as stone in her wedding gown, hands clenched in white satin gloves as the doors of the Alari estate's private suite shut behind her with a soft, mechanical click. It sounded... final.

This wasn't the chapel.

It wasn't the ballroom.

It wasn't where Dante was supposed to be waiting.

The room was dim - all sharp marble, black wood, and male power. A low fire cracked in the hearth. Floor-to-ceiling windows threw long shadows over the silk-draped bed. The whole place smelled faintly of expensive cologne and control.

And the man in the armchair was not her fiancé.

He didn't rise when she entered. Didn't greet her. Just looked up, slow and assessing, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of amber scotch in his hand like he'd been expecting her all along.

"Hello, Mrs. Alari."

Her heart stuttered. She blinked.

"You're not Dante," she said, voice paper-thin.

"No," he replied. "I'm the one you actually married."

Her throat closed.

She stared at him - at the black tailored suit, the razor cut of his jaw, the scar under his eye she'd only seen once, years ago, in a tabloid photo.

Luca Alari.

Dante's older brother. The exile. The wolf behind the curtain.

"You're lying," she whispered, barely breathing. "This is a mistake."

He stood, slow and liquid like a predator stretching. He walked toward her, each step echoing too loudly on the marble. Measured. Dangerous.

"I don't make mistakes," he said simply.

He stopped in front of her - too close - and the scent of scotch and spice clung to him like heat. She could feel it through the lace of her dress.

"The contract was signed this morning. Your father agreed. Your mother witnessed it."

Aria stepped back. "No. I was marrying Dante. This was-this was about love."

Luca smiled - slow, sharp, merciless.

"No, sweetheart. This was about leverage. And I'm the one cashing in."

A tremor started in her chest. "This can't be legal. I didn't sign-"

"You didn't have to," he said, cutting her off. "Your father signed for you. As per Alari custom. You were promised to this family. He just changed the name on the contract."

She felt sick. Like the floor had dropped out beneath her.

"Dante would never-"

"Dante tried to stop it," Luca said with infuriating calm. "But he doesn't run this family anymore."

His eyes darkened. "I do."

She turned, heading for the door, but his hand caught her wrist - fast. Firm.

She froze.

"Don't," he said quietly. "You don't walk away from me."

His grip wasn't cruel. But it didn't give. His touch was everything else about him - cold, immovable, absolute.

"You're mine now, Aria," he murmured. "Not just on paper. In every way that counts."

She looked up at him, chin tilted, rage warring with fear in her veins.

"You think I'll let you touch me?" Her voice broke on the edge of fury. "You think I'll be some prize you unbox like a goddamn trophy?"

Luca didn't flinch. He lifted her hand instead - the same one he'd trapped - and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. Not soft. Not sweet. Just... claiming.

"I don't think," he murmured. "I know."

Her heart thundered. Her breath came in tight, shallow bursts.

And then he dropped her hand.

"But not tonight," he said, already turning away, stripping off his tie.

She blinked. "What?"

He looked over his shoulder. "I want you needy. Desperate. I want you to crawl to me when you're done pretending you don't want this."

With that, he disappeared into the master bedroom and shut the door, leaving her standing in her wedding gown like some porcelain doll left behind in a war zone.

Her chest rose and fell too fast.

Her fists trembled.

And for the first time since the wedding procession, she felt the weight of what had been done.

Aria Vale had just been stolen.

And now she belonged to the wrong Alari brother.