Chapter 6

Holden shot Kenia a look, a silent command in his eyes. Just agree. Don't make a scene.

He needed her to play along, to be the compliant, broken toy until he decided he was done with the game.

Her body was stiff, but she gave a slow, deliberate nod. "I would be honored."

Annabella snorted. "At least she knows her place."

Kenia turned and walked up the stairs, feeling their triumphant stares on her back.

Later that night, Holden cornered her in the hallway.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked, as if her world hadn't just been systematically destroyed by him.

"No," she said, her voice flat.

"Then why are you acting like this? You loved planning our wedding. All this... it's not you."

"You told me to agree," she interrupted, her voice sharp. "And besides, our marriage license was fake. I have no right to be your bride."

He had the grace to look ashamed. "I had to, Kenia. My grandmother... she would have never approved. The wedding with Estella is just a show, to get her off my back."

He tried to spin it as if he were protecting Kenia, as if this whole charade was for her benefit. His words were smooth, practiced, and utterly false.

He took her hand and placed it on his chest. "I swear, Kenia. I will never abandon you. After this is all over, I'll send you to Paris. You can study art, have your own gallery. I'll come visit you every month. We'll be happy."

He painted a beautiful picture of a future where she was his pampered, secret mistress.

She pulled her hand away. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

He let her go, confident he had placated her. "Okay. I'll get your visa arranged tomorrow."

The wedding preparations were rushed but lavish. Holden spared no expense for Estella. He threw out all of Kenia's plans, every detail she had lovingly chosen, and created a new wedding, tailor-made for his new bride.

Kenia played the part of the dutiful bridesmaid perfectly. She helped Estella with her dress fittings, listened to her gloat about the guest list, and smiled and nodded in all the right places.

Holden was pleased at first. His little toy was being good. But as the days went on, a frantic look entered his eyes.

"Why aren't you jealous?" he demanded one night, grabbing her arm. "Why don't you care?"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" she replied calmly. "For me to be quiet and obedient."

On the day of the wedding, Holden stood in the grand foyer, looking like a prince in his bespoke suit. Kenia caught his eye and felt a ghost of the old ache. She had dreamed of this day for so long.

He came over to her, his brow furrowed. "Who were you just texting?"

She quickly turned her phone screen off. "Just a friend."

"Let me see," he demanded, reaching for her phone.

"The password is my birthday," she said simply.

He tried it. It failed. He tried again. Failed. The man who claimed to love her, who had shared a bed with her for three years, didn't know her birthday.

The butler appeared. "Sir, it's time to go. The bride is waiting."

Holden gave up, a frustrated look on his face. "I'll deal with this later," he said, his voice low. "After the wedding, we're getting on a plane to Paris. Together. You wait for me here."

He hurried off, a man late for his own wedding.

I'm done waiting for you, Holden, she thought.

A sleek black car pulled up to the front of the empty mansion. Her phone buzzed. A message from Gael.

"Your chariot awaits, my lady."

She walked to the fireplace. She took out the last photo she had of her and Holden, a smiling selfie from their first anniversary. She watched it curl and burn, turning to ash.

She looked around the vast, empty house one last time. It felt like waking up from a long, terrible dream.

She walked out the door, carrying nothing but her passport and her broken heart. She got into Gael's car.

He didn't say anything, just handed her a bottle of water and gently squeezed her hand.

On a large screen on the back of the front seat, a live stream of the wedding was playing. Holden and Estella were at the altar, exchanging vows.

The car pulled away from the curb. The mansion, the wedding, her old life-it all receded in the rearview mirror.

She was finally free. And she would never, ever look back.