Chapter 10

• Every step I took down the lavish aisle felt like an eternity, with each step serving as a countdown and when I finally reached him – Arlo Frantz – a man in his tailored wedding suit, I was pulled back to reality.
• His unwavering gaze locked with mine, not even with the sea of camera flashing behind us, immortalizing this moment with photographs and videos.
• He held my trembling hands with his and the crowd quieted down. His grip was warm and the way he brushed his thumb against my palm grounded me, or claimed me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking right now and what this gesture meant.
• “We gather here today in witness of this wonderful union,” the officiant spoke, his voice echoing all over the large cathedral.
• I barely heard the words right after when my focus was locked on Arlo. On the way his eyes burned into mine as if I was a vision to see... Perhaps he was stunned by my drastic transformation because I can confidently say that I am beautiful.
• For a long time, the world saw me as an ugly, hollow-eyed woman with my hair always tied back in messy knots while I dragged myself in and out of the courthouse.
• That version of me was the abandoned woman.
• But today, after a series of hair and skin treatments in just two days, I almost didn't recognize myself.
• My hair, once duller than wheat, turned luminous, pulled up into a half-bun and accessorized with diamond hair pins.
• The makeup artist transformed my face into something ethereal.
• This was my first time seeing my skin glow like porcelain under the soft lights, my lips soft and plump.
• Most especially my eyes, that were once swollen and tired from sleepless nights of crying, now looked like they could cut glass.
• Around my neck rested a diamond pendant that bears the Frantz branding. It was Arlo’s choice, not mine. Elegant, understated, but heavy with meaning. He has no need to explain.
• Everyone watching today would understand: I was not only his bride, I was his claim.
• “Do you, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband—”
• My breath hitched as a thousand painful memories flooded my mind, of betrayal and humiliation weighing on my like ghosts.
• But Arlo seemed to notice my shaky eyes that I felt his hand tighten around mine, and once again the noise of the world quieted down.
• He was my anchor.
• “I... do.”
• The officiant turned to Arlo, “And do you—”
• “I do,” he rudely cut him off without hesitation, how typical of him.
• “You may now kiss the bride,”
• The venue turned blindingly bright with the erupting camera flashes the moment those words were said out loud.
• Arlo didn’t waste a second either, as if he had been waiting for this moment.
• He pulled me close to him, one arm curled around my waist, the other cupping the nape of my neck.
• But when I met his eyes, it showed hesitation.
• Something surprising coming from a man who knows what he wants and does what he wants.
• Is he worried about what I would feel? Kissing a man that’s practically a stranger? If he is hesitating now, it won’t do both of us good, and besides, I also want to do it if it’s one step closer to reaching my goal.
• I took the initiative and lunged forward, our lips colliding, firm and possessive.
• I saw his eyes widen from my sudden action before eventually closing them.
• The kiss was fire and ice, an unspoken declaration that the two of us are now bound in a deal.
• When I noticed that he had no plans of stopping, deepening the kiss, his tongue coaxing my lips open – I roughly pulled away from this unusual sensation.
• The audience thundered with applause, the noise reverberated across the cathedral even after the doors burst open and the press waiting outside surged forward, forcing their microphones at our direction, but Arlo’s buffed guards kept them a few meters away from us as we walked towards the car.
• Arlo guided me down the steps, every camera following our descent like we were royalty.
• “Ms. Kerri! Is this a marriage of love or out of desperation?!”
• “Do you have a message for Liam Tate?!”
• “Mr. Frantz! Are you aware that this woman is a divorcee?!”
• Cameras clicked like gunfire, reporters shouted and drowned us with questions.
• Once again, the light flashes burned my vision, dragging me back to the memory of my divorce, their cruel laughter when I cried.
• But before my body could instinctively react to this situation and tremble, Arlo’s arm tightened around my shoulder, and he pulled me closer to his side. Even shielding my view of the reporters with his other hand.
• I look up at him, bewildered at this gentleness. He was not looking at me, but at the reporters behind the barricade. His threatening gaze swept them, sharp and merciless that I felt the air itself shift.
• “Enough,” he said with heaviness in his voice.
• The reporters fell back like a frightened prey. Even the most vulgar ones I recognize lowered their heads and this made me realize something, as I felt a chill running down my spine.
• Billionaire or not, no ordinary man could silence a mob with one word.
• But before I could dwell on that nagging thought, something happened.
• A loud cracking sound split through the air.
• It made me flinch so much that my bouquet tumbled out of my hands, followed by a series of startled short screams from the crowd.
• For a second, I thought I heard gunshots.
• The black-suited guards moved instantly in sync with one goal, to protect Arlo as they formed a tight wall around us with their rifles raised in every direction and their keen eyes scanning alleys and rooftops.
• “Stay close to me,” Arlo pulled me closer to the point that my face was buried against his chest, while his other hand hovers around something strapped in his belt, hidden by his dark coat.
• I took a quick glance at what he was holding to see that it was a... gun.
• I blinked again.
• A gun?!
• Why would he carry a gun on his wedding day?!
• “It was just a car backfiring down the street, sir.” I heard the familiar voice of Pierce somewhere from behind us and the guards dispersed.
• The crowd just overreacted from the sound but still, the air around us pulsed with tension.
• Arlo placed his pistol back, securing it in his belt, then he turned to face me with that beautiful face of his, flashing a reassuring smile.
• He snapped his fingers and one of the guards picked up the bouquet I dropped and handed it to Arlo’s hand.
• “Hold this,” he pressed it back into my trembling hands, almost as if hiding my shakiness from the camera with the bouquet.
• I swallowed hard and nodded quietly.
• “Walk with me now, darling.” He offered his arm and I slid mine through it as we continued to walk towards the car. “Now that you’re my wife, you don’t need to be afraid of anything, not even stray bullets.”
• My breath hitched at his words. Stray bullets. He said it so casually that danger was a normal thing around him.
• I wanted to ask, to demand, to know why his guards were armed as if they were about to dive into war, how his presence could silence rude reporters, why he treated danger like an old friend... but something in the back of my mind didn’t want to know yet... at least for today, let me enjoy this wedding day.
• When we reached the waiting black limousine, he leaned dangerously close, his lips brushing against my sensitive ear so only I could hear his deep voice.
• “The world saw you as mine today,” he teased, “Now you’ll learn what it means to really belong to me,”
• My body instinctively froze, and my mind could only think of one thing to say.
• Fuck.
• If his kiss felt like fire and ice, then what will his touch do to me tonight?