My eyes felt gritty, devoid of tears. Not that I wanted to ruin my makeup. I just couldn't cry anymore.

"You're doing great, Katie," Mom said, her voice surprisingly calm.

After the discovery of Mara's...death, we had retreated to my mother's room while "experts" dealt with Mara's body until my father had seen her and after the wedding. How could she be so composed?

She just lost her daughter! My sister died because of me, and I couldn't even grieve properly.

As the makeup artist touched up my lashes, I fought back the urge to sob. My lips trembled, and the lump in my throat grew more suffocating.

In the mirror, I saw my mother. Her composure was unsettling, a stark contrast to the raw grief I felt. Her eyes, usually sparkling with warmth, were now flat and unreadable, as if a mask had been drawn over her true emotions.

"Your father will meet us at the venue," she said.

A single tear escaped.

"What happened to you, Mom?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

She simply stared at me, her expression blank.

"My baby is gone because of you. Sweetheart, I don't hate you; I'm just..." She trailed off, her hands visibly trembling as she walked to hug me from behind. Her fingers gently wiped the tear from my face as she sighed. Her warm breath, her stern expression, her flooded eyes.

Then I understood. Mom was in Denial.

"I can't cry. I can't hate. We have to be strong, for the family."

She nodded to the makeup artist, who quietly left the room. Moments later, the familiar maid, Rosy, entered with the seamstress and his assistant, carrying a garment bag containing the wedding dress.

"Thank you, Rosy," Mom said.

As she watched me dress, something shifted in her demeanour. The spark in her eyes, the satisfied expression on her face, were unsettling.

Afterwards, I was left alone in the room to "admire" my dress. And I did.

The silk felt impossibly smooth against my skin, clinging to my curves like a second skin. The golden undertones warmed the ivory, creating a subtle, ethereal glow. I caught my breath as I looked down. A delicate necklace of tiny diamonds traced my neckline, sparkling like captured starlight. They weren't flashy, just a subtle shimmer, a secret whisper of luxury. I felt breathtaking, timeless, elegant. This dress wasn't just clothing; it was a feeling, a promise.

This dress could pay for twenty years' rent on my New York apartment. It was ironic that my family, one of the wealthiest in Romania, had allowed me to live such a meagre existence.

"This is for you, Mara," I sniffed, determined not to cry. It was my wedding, after all.

I flinched as the door opened. It was my father.

"Prințesa mea," he cooed, taking my outstretched hands.

I forced a smile. Despite the brokenness, the guilt and shame, my father's warm gaze still offered a glimmer of hope.

"You don't have to do this, Prințesa," he said, releasing my hands. "You don't have to..."

"Please, tată, I am doing it," I said, my voice trembling. "Let me prove it to you and Mom. Let me do this for..." I broke down, falling into his arms again. "Let me do this for Mara, vă rog," I said, shivering.

He released me, nodding in acknowledgement, as if permitting me to do the right thing.

In silence, he took my hand and led me out of the room. At the entrance of the villa, he looked at me and nodded again. I nodded back. The door opened, revealing my mother waiting in the white Range Rover.

Kissing my forehead, Father placed me in the car, carefully arranging my dress. It should have been funny, but I didn't laugh.

"I'll meet you there," he said, gently closing the door. He had always been so gentle, the perfect man, even when he was absent from my life.

The ride was silent, so silent I could almost hear my heartbeat. Mom, on the other hand, didn't spare me a single glance, focusing solely on checking and rechecking her makeup.

My chest tightened, and I feared I would pass out. I had every reason to be anxious. As much as I knew Samuel Alexandrescu would never hurt me, I had always nurtured a fantasy of the perfect family.

I had always hoped that John would change, that we would have perfect babies, and that I would live happily ever after.

"Private Family Ceremony."

I blinked.

It was then that I realised the car had stopped.

"It's a private family ceremony, not a huge spectacle. You know how it is," she said nonchalantly.

I nodded and sat still beside her.

Both doors opened, and someone helped her out. My father was already standing in front, a happy, boyish grin on his face, and he helped me out of the car.

"You're making your old man proud, Prințesa mea," he whispered.

I recognised the mansion; it was the Alexandrescu mansion. I had been here a few times as a child because our families had always been allies.

We headed straight to the left side of the mansion, where a cottage stood. I remembered the cottage. It was the place where Sam had stolen my first kiss.

The door opened, and the slow, traditional Romanian wedding music began to play. Ahead of me stood Sam Alexandrescu, waiting patiently for his bride.

My gaze swept across the scene. It was indeed a private wedding, attended only by both families. My mom, Aunt Ileana, Peter, and a few of my father's bodyguards. On the other side were Mr and Mrs Alexandrescu, a woman I assumed was a close family member, and a man standing behind her.

He towered over his sister and mother, a few inches taller than his father. His brown suit made him stand out among the family members wearing bright colours. His black glasses also suggested he was the rebel of the family. If not that, he might be blind or just a douche to wear sunglasses inside.

I took a deep breath, squeezed my father's arm, and followed him down the aisle, where Sam took my hand.

"Katherine," he whispered.

He wasn't surprised. He should be marrying Mara, not me, yet he seemed too calm.

As we exchanged vows and rings, I kept my gaze fixed on his. He was too composed, almost as if he had wanted me all along. Or was the arrangement any daughter from my family's?

I gasped as Sam's lips met mine. It was a gentle kiss, just our lips touching. Both families clapped. I looked away to compose myself and caught a glimpse of something that made my heart skip a beat: my not-so-dead sister standing behind my mother.

Her smile was radiant, her eyes locking with mine, as if to reassure me that she wasn't a ghost. The knowing glint in her eyes as she clapped and cheered the most.

I couldn't wait for the ceremony to end before I confronted my family. My mother, as usual, wore an almost flat expression, but she smiled. My father, visibly proud, kissed my forehead and hugged me.

"Thank you, Katherine," he said, calling me by my full name.

I looked at my alive sister standing behind my mom. Following my gaze, my mom smiled and moved closer, her voice sharp and authoritative.

"Don't make a scene, Katie. It was the only way to get it back and get you to fulfil your obligation to the family," she snapped.

Family obligation? Was this why she wanted no ambulance? I should have known her reaction to her daughter's death was too suspicious.

But blaming me was way over.

"Katherine Angelov, do not create a scene." Mom's strained voice pulled me back to reality.

Our gaze met and held as she smiled. Her small nods indicated she wanted me to smile too, and I involuntarily did.

"I am so proud of you. Although you asked to do it after all these years, but...my girl is a woman now," she giggled.

My family was wealthy! We had everything and more. The Alexandrescus were equally rich, and I knew this wasn't about money. The people I trusted the most had betrayed me. First, my ex and my best friend, now my family? Even my own father with his sweet smile.

"Kay," Mara said with a sheepish smile as she walked to my front. "No hard feelings, sissy." She moved to hug me, but I stepped back.

"Well," she shrugged, glancing at our parents walking toward the cars. "I have someone else in mind, Kay. Please understand." She faked sadness.

Too late. I already knew it was fake.

"Okay. It was extreme, I know. But—Samuel Alexandrescus? This is your cross, Katherine; don't glare at me" Mara clenched her teeth as she smiled.

It was official that I had no one.

At that moment, I couldn't explain how I felt, but I knew it was a mixture of hope and a newfound sense of freedom. I loved this new feeling, the weight lifting off my chest. I knew I would live my life to the fullest.

"Tell them," I said, moving closer as I looked at my parents. "Tell them that I..." I paused, regulating my breathing, and returned my gaze to Mara. "All of you, I swear you'll regret this. Good thing I'm no longer an Angelov," I added before turning away.

The smile remained on my face as I turned to face my new family. They seemed less problematic, but I knew I couldn't trust them.

"I'm Danielle, the sister," the girl said, hugging me.

I turned to meet the kind gaze of Mr and Mrs Alexandrescu, who also embraced me.

"You rest now, sweetie. We can show you around tomorrow, or whenever you want," Mr Alexandrescu said, kissing my cheek before walking away.

I was left with Sam, Danielle, and...

It was him! The guy with the sunglasses.

Mr. Kisser! Mr. Handsome?

He walked closer, removed his glasses, and stared into my eyes. "Welcome to the family, Katherine Alexandrescu," he smirked, taking my left hand and kissing the back of my palm. "I'm Benedict. You should have known that before you kissed me," he whispered.

I gulped.

Goodness!

I needed to get out of this dress. I needed to think. I needed to wake up from this nightmare.

The main mansion was still far from the ceremony site, and I wasn't ready to walk, so I looked around for Sam while his siblings walked away.

"See you around, Sis," Danielle said, walking off with Benedict.

I glanced around and found Sam standing in front of a car. He opened the door for me, helped me arrange my dress, and closed the door. As he walked to the other side, I tried to wake myself up. Maybe it had all been a vivid dream.

Nope.

As Sam opened his door, I scoffed. His smug expression, curved lips, and perfect face seemed like a bad combination.

"You know we'll stay here for a while before moving to my place," he said.

I ignored him.

"I don't expect us to talk much, especially when I don't want to," he said, finally catching my attention.

So this was an arranged marriage, or maybe we were betrothed from birth.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he interrupted.

"And we'll have separate rooms. I don't..."

"You think I'd let a creepy thing like you share a room with me?" I interrupted. "Not in your nine lives, Sam. As you know, this is business."

A satisfied smile spread across my face as I watched the smugness vanish from his.

"Good", I smirked.