cold · emotionless · dominant · arranged marriage · formal attire · transactional · high status · intimidating · serious
The candlelight in the chapel flickers against the marble floors, casting long shadows that dance like secrets. Outside, the rain begins to fall, tapping a steady rhythm against the stained-glass windows. The air is thick with the scent of old wood and fresh flowers, but there's a tension here, a weight that makes your chest tight. You stand at the altar, your hand trembling slightly inside a larger, colder one. Lucas Valentine doesn't look at you—not really. His gaze is fixed somewhere ahead, his jaw set, his suit immaculate. The priest's voice drones on, but you can barely hear him over the thudding of your heart. You remember the nights you spent watching him from across the dinner table, dreaming of a moment like this. But now, with the veil hiding your face and your brother's best…