Chapter 1.

The white dress felt more like chains than a holy garment.

Every step Elena Marlowe took towards the altar made her breathing heavier, as if the lace threads on her body were entangling her neck instead of adorning it. The church organ music played softly, but to Elena, the tune held no beauty.

She stared straight ahead. Adrian Blackthorne stood waiting for her, a strapping figure in a perfect black suit. The man's eyes looked at her-warm, soft, almost a contrast to the gaze of the Blackthorne family sitting on the front bench. The faces were cold, like marble statues. There was no smile, no happiness.

Elena swallowed. She knew very well that this marriage was no fairy tale. She stood at the altar not out of love, but out of desperation.

Julian. Her nineteen year old brother was lying in the hospital with medical bills mounting every day. Elena can no longer afford to pay. When the offer comes - from the Blackthorne family to marry Adrian for a certain "deal" she has no choice. For Julian's sake, she said yes.

And now, under the glittering lights of the magnificent church, Elena feels herself surrendering her soul, not her heart.

However, underneath all that fear, Adrian's gaze was a bit of a treat. He looked down, smiling faintly as their hands met. Adrian lowered his head briefly, gently stroking Elena's fingers. A small gesture that made her heart calm down a little-or maybe it was just her imagination that she wanted to believe.

The ceremony went quickly, vows exchanged, rings exchanged. Elena felt the steady grip of Adrian's hand, as if whispering: I am by your side. And for a moment, a small hope grew in her heart.

---

The bridal chamber was filled with candlelight. The old wooden walls and tall windows made the room seem both majestic and tense. The lace of her dress dragged on the marble floor, making a scraping sound that was strangely more suspenseful than the wedding music.

Elena sat on the edge of the bed, her heart beating too fast. Her hands were cold, palms damp with sweat. She looked down, trying to calm herself.

Adrian entered slowly, his steps quiet. He placed his black coat on the chair, then approached. His smile was warm again, just like at the altar.

"You look pale," he said softly.

Elena looked up. "I'm just... nervous."

"That's natural." Adrian sat down beside her. "I know none of this was your choice, but I'll try to make you comfortable, Elena."

The words startled her. Elena turned her head, and for the first time, she looked deeply at the man. The look in his eyes was sincere, without the haughty air of other family members. Adrian even reached out his hand, grasping Elena's fingers. Warm. Comfortable.

For a split second, Elena wanted to believe. Maybe, just maybe, this marriage wasn't a life sentence. But the sudden banging on the door ruined everything.

BRUK! The door to the room opened violently. Several black-armed men entered, their faces covered by masks.

"WHAT-!?" Adrian stood up, reflexively placing himself in front of Elena. "Who are you!?"

They didn't answer. Two immediately grabbed Adrian's arms, dragging him. "Let go of me! Elena!" he shouted.

Elena got up, ran, tried to pull her husband's arm. "No! What are you doing!? Stop it!" But her body was held back hard by one of the other men.

"Adrian!" His voice was hoarse, full of panic.

Adrian's screams echoed, mixed with the sound of blunt force. His body was rigid, eyes dilated, ears ringing. The smell of iron stabbed his nose, and a chill ran down his spine.

Blood.

The red stain traveled to the hem of her dress, staining the white fabric.

"Elena!" Adrian's last voice shook her ears, before a heavy blow rang out. After that-silence.

Elena screamed at the top of her lungs, then everything went dark.

---

When her eyes opened again, the world was different.

The room was silent, the candles extinguished, the cold air piercing. Her wedding dress was stained with dried blood. Her hands were trembling.

"Adrian?" Her voice was barely audible.

The door creaked. A woman entered. Graceful, cold, dignified. Victoria Blackthorne-her mother-in-law. Her hair was in a perfect bun, her dress was black with no pleats. Her gaze pierced Elena.

"Elena," her voice was calm, cold. "Adrian is gone."

Elena gasped. "N-no... that's not possible."

"You are still part of this family," Victoria continued expressionlessly. "From now on, you will fulfill your duties as a Blackthorne."

Elena's world came crashing down. Her tears flowed uncontrollably. "He just... he just became my husband!"

Victoria just gave her a flat look. "Dinner will begin in an hour. You will be present."

The door closed. Elena sobbed alone, her white dress now more like a mourning cloth.

---

The long dining table in the main room of the house was full of luxurious dishes. Crystal glittered, and silver sparkled. Elena sat at the end of the table, the large chair beside her was empty. Adrian's chair.

However, what surprised Elena was not the emptiness, but the attitude of everyone. They ate, talked, and laughed freely as if nothing had happened, as if Adrian had never existed.

Her hands clenched into fists in her lap. "How can you... behave like this!?" Her voice broke.

The atmosphere went silent. All heads turned towards her. Victoria's gaze was sharp enough to make Elena freeze.

"There's nothing to question," Victoria said coldly. "Eat."

Elena looked down, her lips trembling. Her tears fell silently onto the empty plate.

The big door opened. A man entered, his steps steady, his aura strong.

Damien sat on Adrian's chair without smiling. The look in his eyes was piercing, and every word that came out was like an order, not an invitation.

"Elena." He called her name without preamble. "Adrian's missing. Family business."

Elena turned her head, trembling. "Disappeared? You said... disappeared?"

Damien gave her a long look, then sat in Adrian's empty chair. "As of today, I'm in charge of the Blackthorne family."

Elena felt her chest tighten. "And me? I...?"

Damien lifted his chin. "You're still living in this mansion. You're still Blackthorne's wife."

"But my husband-"

"Your husband is gone." His voice was cold, piercing. "You will be part of this family. Whether you want to or not."

Elena wanted to scream, wanted to refuse, but Damien's gaze made her voice disappear. The man's aura left no room for resistance.

In an instant, Elena realized: the chain she wore at the altar was not just a feeling. She was truly trapped. And that night, for the first time, she felt how long and dark the road ahead was.