Chapter 2 Aseal

• Asael’s POV
• “That's not happening.” Rhea swells.
• The crowd grew silent and uncomfortable.
• “That isn't a big deal.” Kieran holds close to her waist and says aloud.
• Distorting the awkwardness that fills the room.
• Rhea groans and storms out.
• I hold fast to Allen’s hands. He stand to his feet and kisses me.
• A kiss I had so longed for in years.
• The crowd cheer, both vague and genuine.
• We walk down as the flashes of camera follow after our every move.
• “You didn't even hint me that you were going to propose?” I take glances at my ring.
• I am not sure he heard what I said.
• I look up to glance at his face. “Is anything the matter?”
• He squeezes my hand, smiles charmingly and says, “I need to have an urgent discussion with someone.”
• “Can't it wait? I mean, we are having our moment.” I respond, leaning into his chest.
• “You know I'd rather be with you than anyone else.” He smiles with his eyes, one I couldn't resist.
• “Fine, Fine… come back fast, okay? I don't want to feel lost in this crowd.” I let him go without more protest.
• Sloane appears almost immediately, sliding to my side, her voice sharp with urgency.
• “Asael,” she calls out to me. I could tell the curiosity in her eyes as I gaze at her. “Girl, you got me scared with that request you made. Why would you want to get married on the same day as Rhea? I don't want you to ever have anything to do with her honestly. That girl is poison.”
• I stop walking and look her straight in the eye. “She better have more potions to make because she will get what’s coming to her.”
• “It's best we stay away from her for now. You just got out, you need peace.”
• “Peace? Do you know what it feels like to drown, Sloane? Counting days in a cell, never knowing if you’ll live to see the next morning due to the harsh lifestyles in prison?”
• My throat tightens as tears blur my vision. “That’s what she did to me. That’s what they all did to me. I’m not the same woman anymore. I can't be.”
• Sloane glares at me, remaining quiet.
• I walk away leaving her standing in the hall, stunned by the depths from which I speak.
• I drift into another wing of the museum, enjoying the arts I see hung on the walls. I hope to see something that catches my attention or one that can make me feel better.
• But before I find a single canvas, voices of fretful murmurs freeze me in place.
• “What was that all about?”
• “What?” a second voice snaps, low and strained.
• My stomach rumbles. I know these voices.
• Pressing against the wall, I lean closer to the half-open door.
• “Can’t you see she’s already swayed by the proposal? What difference does it make if she marries on the same day as you? It's not that deep.”
• The world tilts. Allen. His voice says, smooth but irritated.
• “Oh, it's far deeper than that?” The other voice, which was Rhea's snaps again.
• “Get over yourself. We need this to get done faster and you know it. It's good she thinks she's getting back at you doing this..”
• I couldn't wrap my head around what was going on but the words I hear next cut through my heart the most.
• “Don’t waste our opportunity with your nagging. Let's just get done with the marriage contract and seal the wedding. You should know the only reason I’m here is for her grandfather’s estate. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. If I wanted a woman, I wouldn’t waste my time on a loser like her.”
• Air leaves my lungs as my knees weaken. For a moment I think I might collapse, right there in the hall.
• I stumble backward from the door. I can't believe what I just heard. Rage swallows the heartbreak whole.
• So this is why he's been pretending all along?
• I leave the hallway with my mind blazing. I won’t scream. I won’t confront him yet. Let them both think they’re winning.
• The days pass, and I bury my discovery beneath layers of calm.
• Allen presses me for wedding plans, eager to seal the deal. His desperation grows obvious, papers shoved under my nose, an already signed contract, Rhea’s wedding date suddenly moved closer. Every step feels orchestrated.
• I smile through it all. I nod and agree, planning every other step I need to make sure I don't fall into their trap.
• One evening, I slip into Allen’s room while he’s away. A small brown bag that I had been monitoring due to how well he hides it in his locked wardrobe. I inform him of an emergency meeting I set up with the people picking my wedding dress and I make him leave immediately.
• He reluctantly leaves the locker open and rushes out.
• I tremble as I slide my hand into the bag and bring out files and photographs.
• My breath stalls.
• A glossy print of my grandfather’s lifeless body falls from between the file. On the file is a report, the name of the maid who supposedly poisoned his meal.
• It is enough proof that Allen has known the truth all along. I wonder what he was using it for and why he never thought to let me know or hand it to the police.
• I snap quick photos with my phone, my hands shaking so badly I nearly drop it. Then I slide the bag back exactly where it was, forcing my face into stillness before slipping out.
• In my own room, I collapse onto the bed with a heavy heart. It races both with terror and triumph. Finally, something I can use.
• The laptop on my desk dings, a new message flashing across the screen. The sender is unknown.
• I contemplate opening it because it feels weird and my hands still tremble.
• “We need to meet concerning your grandfather’s will. Call me.” I click on the message and it reads