Chapter 1 - THE BRIDAL CELLMy high-society wedding was supposed to prove that my family still owned me, body and soul.
Julian Thorne thought I would just smile, sweetly say “I do,” and let my desperate, bankrupt father trade my future away for twenty million dollars in corporate backing.
Then Dante Romano—the most dangerous, untouchable man in the city—walked right down the center aisle of the cathedral, announced that I did not consent, and held out his scarred hand. But the explosive secret that brought him to my altar had been buried alongside my mother’s casket for twelve long years.
Julian’s manicured fingers were literally crushing my bruised wrist beneath the heavy white lace of my gown. My father sat in the front row, refusing to look me in the eye. My stepmother watched the proceedings with a greedy, triumphant grin, as if a complicated business merger was finally closing.
When the priest paused and asked for my vows, my throat closed up. I couldn't make a single sound.
Dante stopped three measured steps from the altar. His dark eyes scanned the scene—lingering on my bruised wrist, the blinding diamond collar around my throat, and the single tear tracking down my cheek.
"She doesn’t consent," Dante stated, his voice ringing out with terrifying calm.
Julian let out a sharp, nervous laugh, stepping forward and telling Dante that he didn't speak for his bride.
"I’m not speaking for her," Dante replied, his gaze locked onto mine. "I’m listening to her."
Before Julian’s security could react, Dante pulled a heavy, folded stack of legal paper from his coat and tossed it onto the altar. It was the original contract my father had secretly signed three nights prior. It explicitly described me not as a wife, but as Julian’s acquired asset and permanent legal proxy in exchange for wiping clean Whitmore Capital’s crippling debt.
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The chapel erupted into gasps. My father leaped up, screaming that it was a forgery. But I didn't need to check it—I had found that exact contract hidden in my father’s desk three nights earlier. I had seen my name written right beside the cold number: twenty million dollars.
My entire life had been priced out down to the penny.
