"Do you take him as your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asked. "Yes I do," Ravell replied softly with a smile as she stared lovingly at the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. "By the power vested in me, I declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride" the priest declared. Alaric gently held her face and inches forward as his lips were about to touch her, when a sudden bang on the door jolted them apart. "Honey, let's go home. Your amnesia is acting up again." A deep voice rang through the cathedral, cutting right through the choir's soft hymn. Today was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. The day I finally stood at the altar, looking into Julian's eyes, ready to say I do to my very first love. My knuckles turned white against the stem of my bouquet as I spun around to face the intruder. My breath hitched in my throat. He stood at the end of the aisle, framed by the stained-glass sunlight. He was imposing, unbelievably tall, with broad shoulders, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, and eyes were ocean blue. Dammit, he was handsome. He looked less like a real person and more like a Greek god who had stepped straight out from a museum. Before my brain could process the sight of him, a tiny tug pulled at the lace train of my wedding dress. "Mummy..." A small, tear-choked voice rang out from beside my feet. I looked down, my heart dropped. A little boy no older than three or four clutched the delicate silk of my gown with his small, trembling fingers. He raised a pair of wide, shimmering eyes, the exact replica of the man standing at the altar steps. The grand hall erupted. Soft gasps turned into a roaring wave of whispers that bounced off the marble pillars. "Is that... is that Aeron Hayes?" "The oldest son of the Hayes family? What is he doing here?" "Wait, did that kid just call her mummy?" The hushed murmurs rippled through the guests like wildfire, but the little boy didn't seem to care. He squeezed my dress tighter, burying his face into the lace. "Daddy has been looking for you for a long time, Mummy," the boy whimpered, his small voice echoing in the sudden lull of the church. "Please don't run away again." A cold sweat broke out across the back of my neck. My head throbbed, a sharp, ring buzzing in my ears. Married? A child? No. That was impossible. I ran through my mind, grasping at every single memory. I remembered my childhood, my high school graduation, my college years, my sweet reunion with Julian, my memory was completely fine. Not a single day was missing. I had never seen this boy in my life, and I certainly had never slept with a man like Aeron Hayes. I pulled my train out of the child's small grip, taking two steps backward toward Julian. "Hey, mister," I said, pointing a finger at the breathtaking man walking slowly toward me. My voice wavered, but I forced a sharp, defensive edge into it. "If you're trying to pull some kind of scam or ruin my day, you'd better do it somewhere else! I don't know you, and I definitely don't have a son!" Aeron stopped just two feet away. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't look angry. Instead, those deep eyes locked onto mine with a look of quiet, agonizing tenderness that made my chest tighten involuntarily. He reached out, his long fingers gently catching a tear that had slipped down my cheek without me even realizing it. His touch was warm, sending an unwanted, electrifying shiver down my spine. "Ravelle," Aeron murmured softly, his thumbs lightly brushing my skin. "Look at our son's face and tell me you don't feel it. I know you're confused. I know the crash changed things for you. But we've waited long enough." "Don't touch her!" Julian roared, finally lunging forward to shove Aeron back. Aeron didn't even sway. He simply caught Julian's wrist in a grip, his gaze shifting from gentle sorrow to pure anger. "Step back, Julian," Aeron said calmly, releasing him with enough force to send Julian stumbling. "You're interfering with my wife." "Huh? Wife?" I blurted out, my voice cracking as I pressed my hands against my burning temples. "Me? When?! Where?! Are you completely out of your mind?!" I looked between the two men, my chest heaving beneath the tight lace of my corset. The entire cathedral felt like it was spinning. This had to be a nightmare. A ridiculous, twisted prank. "Julian, tell him!" I pleaded, grabbing Julian's arm. "Tell this lunatic he's made a mistake!" Julian adjusted his suit jacket, his knuckles white with rage, his face pale as he backed up toward the edge of the altar. "You've gone too far, Hayes! I don't care who your family is or how much money you have. You can't just barge into my wedding with some orphan and claim my bride!" Julian reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone, his thumb wildly tapping at the screen. He brought it up to his ear, his eyes glaring daggers at Aeron. "Security!" Julian barked into the receiver, his voice echoing off the ceilings. "Get up here right now! Every single guard in the building! I have an intruder at the altar...." "Save your breath, Julian," Aeron interrupted. His voice was smooth, completely devoid of panic, as he calmly straightened the cuffs of his dark shirt. Julian froze, the phone still pressed to his ear. Silence greeted him from the speaker, nothing but dead silent.
"What did you do?" Julian whispered, his confidence instantly crumbling. "What did you do to my men?!" Aeron didn't even bother looking at him. He casually bent down, lifting the little boy smoothly into his arm. The child rested his head on Aeron's broad shoulder, staring at me with those big, tear-filled eyes. "I've already taken down your security," Aeron said coldly, stepping forward until he was standing directly in front of Julian. The height difference was terrifying; Aeron towered over him, radiating an aura so dominant that even the guests in the front rows instinctively shrank back into their pews. "Every guard you hired is currently lying face down in the courtyard. No one is coming to save you." "You... you can't do this!" Julian yelled, though he took a fearful step backward, his back hitting the altar rail. "This is a sacred hall! There are hundreds of witnesses! The press is outside!" "Let them watch," Aeron sneered softly. His eyes darkened into something ruthless, shimmering with absolute authority. He leaned in close to Julian's ear, though his words were sharp enough for everyone in the first few rows to hear clearly. "I am giving you one choice, Julian. Either I walk out of here peacefully with my wife... or you call a memorial service to pick up your body. Choose." A collective gasp echoed across the church. Several women shrieked, hiding their faces. Julian swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, his hands visibly shaking. He looked at Aeron's eyes and knew without a doubt that Aeron wasn't bluffing. The Hayes family didn't make empty threats. "You're crazy," Julian choked out, completely paralyzed. "You're a monster..." "I'm a desperate husband," Aeron corrected, turning his gaze back to me. The sharpness in his voice instantly melted into something terrifyingly soft. "Come, Ravelle. We're leaving." "No!" I shouted, backing away until my heel caught on the edge of my dress. "Are you listening to yourself?! You can't just walk into my wedding, threaten my fiancé, and kidnap me! This is insanity! Security or no security, I am not going anywhere with you!" I looked past Aeron, past the sea of shocked guests, searching desperately for the two people who were supposed to protect me. My parents were sitting in the front pew, dressed in their finest attire. "Mom? Dad?" I called out, my voice cracking with desperation. "Say something! Tell him he's wrong! Tell him who I am!" "Mom!" I raised my voice, taking a step toward them, reaching out a hand. "Dad, please! Why are you just sitting there?! Call the police!" My mother flinched as if I had struck her. But instead of standing up, instead of screaming at the man ruining her daughter's wedding, she slowly turned her face away. She stared down at her lap, her hands twisting her purse so tightly her knuckles bled white. Beside her, my father lowered his head, staring intently at the marble floor, refusing to meet my eyes. Guilt was written all over their faces. A cold, sickening dread poured straight into my stomach, freezing the blood in my veins. They weren't shocked. They weren't angry. They looked... guilty. "Mom...?" I whispered, my voice barely audible now. "Dad... look at me..." Neither of them moved. Neither of them said a word. "They won't help you, Ravelle," Aeron said softly, taking another step toward me. His heavy dress shoes clacked against the floor. "They've known the truth for two years. They knew where you belonged, but they kept you hidden because they thought they could undo what was already done." "Shut up! Just shut up!" I screamed, tears finally spilling over my lashes, hot and fast down my cheeks. "You're lying! Everyone is lying! I don't know you! I don't love you! I love Julian!" Aeron's eyes flickered with a flash of dark, possessive anger at the sound of Julian's name, but he quickly reined it in. He shifted the little boy to his left arm, his patience clearly wearing down to a thin. "I have been patient for two long years, Ravelle," Aeron said, his deep voice vibration reverberating through my chest. "I let you heal. I let you live in this fantasy. But watching you stand at the altar with another man?" He took one final, massive stride, closing the distance between us before I could even turn to run. "My patience has reached its limit." "Get away from....." Before I could finish my sentence, Aeron reached out with his free arm, snaked it firmly around my waist, and hoisted me completely off my feet. "Ah! Let me go!" I shrieked, kicking my legs wildly. In one swift, effortless motion, he threw me over his broad shoulder like a sack of grain. The world flipped upside down. My veil ripped away, drifting uselessly to the floor as my head dangled over his back. "Aeron! Put me down! Put me down right now!" I screamed, slamming my fists against his back. It felt like hitting a solid wall of iron. He didn't even flinch. "Julian! Help me!" Julian stood frozen by the altar, staring in horror and cowardice, not daring to step forward after Aeron's threat. "Mom! Dad!" I cried out, my hands flailing as Aeron turned on his heel. My parents remained motionless in their pew, my mother silently sobbing into her handkerchief, refusing to lift her head. The little boy held by Aeron looked at my upside-down, panicked face. He reached out a small hand and gently patted my messy hair. "Don't cry, Mummy," the child said sweetly, his voice echoing in the dead silent church. "Daddy's taking us home now." "You psychopath! Let me go! This is kidnapping! I'll report you! I'll kill you!" I screamed, beating my fists against his muscular shoulder blades with every ounce of strength I had left. Aeron didn't utter a single word of complaint. He simply tightened his grip around the back of my thighs, holding me effortlessly in place as he marched down the long center aisle, stepping over the white rose petals scattered on the floor. The wedding guests scrambled out of the way, parting like the Red Sea, too terrified to even breathe near him. The doors of the cathedral were pushed open by two burly men in black suits awaiting outside. Sunlight flooded the entryway, blinding me as Aeron carried me out, away from my wedding.
The door locked with a sharp, heavy clack. I sat jammed against the far passenger door of the Matte-black BMW 7 Series. The air in the car smelled faintly of cedarwood and a clean, sharp Cologne I couldn't place, but my skin burned everywhere it touched the leather. My chest hitched in ragged, desperate gasps. Across the wide backseat, Aeron didn't look at me. He didn't need to hold me down. He didn't even need to look my way. The electronic child locks were on, the dark tinted windows turned the afternoon city into a greys. In his lap, the little boy, Elion, was finally quiet. His small body rose and fell in shallow, exhausted as he slept, one tiny, dirt-smudged fist clutching Aeron's lapel so hard the black wool was wrinkled. Aeron's hand rested on the back of the kid's head. His long fingers stroked the boy's black curls, over and over, so soft, so habit-bound it made a sharp, hot knife twist deep in my stomach. "Look at me like that again, Ravelle," he said quietly, his voice raspy, barely reaching above the hum of the engine, "and I'll tell the driver to double the speed." "You're a sick man," I whispered, my throat raw and bleeding from screaming down that church aisle. "You're a sick, terrifying man. You think having money means you can just pull a woman off her own altar? My dad... My dad is going to call the police. Julian's family will bury you!" Aeron didn't flinch. He slowly lifted his head, his eyes catching the gray light from the tinted window. They weren't angry. That was the worst part. They were heavy, bloodshot and filled with a cold, terrifying grief that made my breath catch in my throat. "Your father took two hundred thousand dollars from my personal account three months ago to keep his firm from bankruptcy," Aeron said, his voice completely flat, dead of all tone. "He took it on the condition that he'd keep you in that quiet house in the suburbs and out of the city news. And Julian? Julian is sitting in that empty church right now calculating whether his father's company can survive an audit if I press charges for custodial interference. Nobody is coming for you, Ravelle." "Liar!" I screamed, slamming my fist against the bulletproof window. Pain shot up my wrist, but I barely felt it. "You're lying! You bought my family?! You think I'm going to sit here and believe my own parents sold me to a stranger?!" He turned his gaze back to the sleeping child in his lap. He didn't argue nor did he raise his voice. The silence in the car felt suffocating. The car made a hard left, grinding down a concrete ramp into a subterranean garage. Wrought-iron security gates rattled behind us, shutting us in. When the engine cut, the silence was deafening. "Out," Aeron murmured, opening his side door. I scrambled to push my door open, but it was locked. Before I could even turn around to scream at him, his arm reached across the backseat. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, not hard enough to bruise, but locked like an iron ring. He lifted the sleeping boy against his shoulder with his left arm, then dragged me out after him with his right. "Let go! Don't touch me! I can walk!" I lashed out, my heel catching on the hem of my dress as my feet hit the cold floor of the garage. "You're going to tear that dress and break your ankle," he said, his thumb pressing firmly into my wrist as he dragged me toward an express elevator with a glowing blue eye scanner. "And I don't feel like carrying you over my shoulder twice in front of the staff." "I hope you burn in hell!" I spat, trying to dig my heels into the concrete. He pressed his thumb to the glass scanner. A sharp beep rang out, and the brushed-steel doors slid open. Inside the elevator, surrounded by mirrors, I looked insane. My dress was ripped at the bodice, my mascara smeared down my cheeks in gray tracks, and my face was blotchy and pale. Beside me, Aeron stood like a tree, unbothered, holding a child whose breath puffed softly against his neck. The lift shot upward. My ears popped. My stomach plummeted. Ding. The doors slid open straight into a living space so wide and hollow it swallowed the sound of my ragged breathing. Sunlight poured through three-story glass walls, illuminating a sea of white marble floors and soaring ceilings. "Welcome home, Young Lady!" I jumped, my hip slamming straight into Aeron's side as a dozen voices chimed in unison. Standing in a straight row near the entryway were staff in black uniforms, housekeepers, kitchen staff, and an old man with thin grey hair and a sharp tuxedo standing right in front. They all bowed low. "We have missed you terribly, Madam," the old butler said. When he looked up, his eyes were wet, his face lined with genuine, painful joy. "The young master's room is ready. Dinner can be served whenever you wish." My blood ran completely cold. I yanked my hand out of Aeron's grip, stumbling back until my spine hit the glass wall by the door. "What... who are you?" I gasped, my chest heaving. "Why are you looking at me like that?! Tell him to let me go!" The old man's smile fell, shattered into small pieces. "Madam... it's Thomas. I've... I've taken care of this house since you and Master Aeron moved in three years ago." "Stop it!" I shrieked, clutching my head as a terrible, dull ache throbbed behind my eyes. "Stop playing along with him! How much is he paying you to pretend?! I don't know you! I've never seen this place in my life!" None of them moved. None of them shouted back. They just looked at me with this sickening, heavy pity. The same look the guests at the church gave me when the kid called me Mummy. "Thomas, take Elion upstairs," Aeron said softly, handing the sleeping boy over. "Everyone else, clear out." "Yes, Sir," the butler whispered, cradling the child gently as the staff bowed again and vanished into the side corridors like ghosts. The silence came crashing back, heavy and suffocating. I stood by the entrance, shaking, my arms wrapped around my waist. My eyes darted around the cold, modern room, searching for a door, a window, anything, until my gaze locked onto the wall above the fireplace. My hands dropped to my sides.