Chapter 88

• As the officiant's words faded into cheers, Howard cupped Charlotte's veiled face with deliberate care, drawing her close. It was not their first kiss—far from it, past life's tangled intimacies lingering unspoken—but this one unfolded slow and firm, a natural press of lips that drew "awws" from the guests, Wendell clapping heartily, Rita sobbing anew. Yet beneath the surface, it marked a conflicted start: for Charlotte, a silent oath to unmask Anastasia's treachery soon, forcing Howard to see the blind trust he'd placed in his "sister"; for Howard, mere theater in their secret contract, a temporary bond doomed to dissolve once Wendell's grip loosened.
• But as their lips met—soft, warm, lingering with unexpected depth—thoughts evaporated like mist. Charlotte's vengeful plans blurred into nothing, her body leaning instinctively closer, pulse quickening at the unintended spark. Howard's calculated detachment shattered, his mind blanking on escape clauses, the taste of her erasing all but the raw, magnetic now. They parted slowly, breathless, eyes locking in shared bewilderment amid rising applause. Leaning in, Howard whispered coldly against her ear, his voice a low chill, "Welcome to the family." The words sliced the haze, yanking them back to reality as the crowd surged forward in congratulations.
• The reception unfolded in the Carter farmhouse's grand barn, transformed into a rustic wonderland of twinkling lanterns, long wooden tables groaning under farm-to-table feasts—roast lamb, heirloom salads, artisanal cheeses—and a small wooden dance floor under exposed beams. Guests mingled with champagne flutes, laughter mingling with a live folk band's gentle strums, Wendell holding court near the bar with booming toasts, no paparazzi to shatter the intimate glow.