I MARRIED MY ENEMY FOR REVENGE

I moved across the room and unzipped the garment bag.

The dress slipped easily into my hands. My mother laid it across the bed before the bedroom filled with people carrying brushes, flowers, cameras and steaming cups of coffee.

The next two hours became everyone's except mine.

The stylist pinned my hair into place while the makeup artist worked in silence. The photographer asked for pictures by the window, then beside the wardrobe, then near the fireplace.

"One more."

"You've said that four times."

He laughed nervously.

"This really is the last."

I stood where he asked.

The camera clicked.

"Perfect."

"I wasn't aiming for perfect."

By the time everyone stepped back, my phone vibrated on the dressing table.

Ryan sent a message:

Just making sure you're okay on your big day 🙂

I replied with only three words.

I'll be fine.

Before another message arrived, I locked the screen.

My mother picked up the bouquet and handed it to me.

"Ready?"

"No."

"I didn't think you would be."

She adjusted the cuff of my sleeve, then smiled.

"You chose the right dress."

"I know."

Another knock echoed from downstairs.

My father's voice carried through the hallway.

"The cars are here."

The house suddenly became busy again.

Someone collected my overnight case. Another person carried the veil downstairs.

The florist apologised because one arrangement had arrived in the wrong shade.

Nobody seemed surprised.

My father waited beside the front door.

He looked at me for several moments before speaking.

"You look like yourself."

"I was hoping I would."

He offered his arm.

We stepped outside together.

Our neighbours watched discreetly from their gardens while photographers gathered across the road.

The drive to the church took less than twenty minutes.

The police had already closed part of the street, and television crews stood behind barriers.

The moment my car stopped, flashes bounced against the windows.

One of the officers opened the door.

My father stepped out first, then helped me onto the pavement.

Questions flew from every direction.

"Miss Hayes!"

"Avalan!"

"Will you be taking the Vale name?"

"How do you feel?"

I ignored every one of them.

Inside the church, the noise disappeared almost immediately.

Solemn music filled the church.

Every guest rose as I stepped in.

I recognised politicians, investors, developers and people whose photographs appeared more often in financial newspapers than society magazines.

Near the centre aisle sat Arthur Bell and Martin.

Arthur lifted his hand in greeting.

Martin nodded.

A few rows behind them sat Ryan.

Our eyes met for only a second.

He smiled once. It wasn't a happy smile, just a quiet reminder that he was there.

Then I reached the front.

Shadric waited beside the minister.

He wore the same unreadable calm he'd had three nights earlier in the gardens.

My father placed my hand in Shadric's. Neither man spoke.

Then the ceremony began.

The minister welcomed everyone before reading through the opening passages.

The church remained still. Even the photographers moved carefully.

Halfway through the service, the minister invited us to face one another.

Before he continued, Shadric spoke quietly.

"You don't have to smile."

"I wasn't planning to."

"I know."

The vows followed.

I repeated every word clearly.

Not because I believed them, but because I had decided long ago that nothing, not even this, would make me appear uncertain.

When it was Shadric's turn, his voice remained calm from beginning to end.

The minister closed the book.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Applause followed.

"You may kiss the bride."

Several cameras lifted together.

Shadric leaned slightly closer.

"I'm not giving them a performance."

Before anyone could misunderstand, he placed a brief kiss against my forehead.

A ripple of whispers travelled through the pews.

Then applause filled the church again.

We walked back down the aisle together.

Outside, reporters surged towards the barriers again.

Richard stepped forward before anyone else reached us.

"One family photograph."

The photographer quickly arranged everyone.

"Closer together, please."

Nobody moved.

He accepted defeat and took the picture anyway.

More photographs followed.

With both families. With the bridal party. With the Vale board.

By the end, even the photographer looked exhausted.

The reception occupied almost the entire ground floor of the Vale estate.

Music drifted through the entrance hall while staff carried silver trays between groups of guests.

Richard disappeared almost immediately into a conversation with investors.

Victoria welcomed relatives.

Clara escaped towards the terrace before anyone could stop her.

I had barely stepped inside when Arthur approached.

"Mrs Vale."

"I still answer to Avalan."

"I was hoping you would."

We both laughed softly.

Martin joined us, carrying two glasses of sparkling water.

"I thought somebody should bring you something that isn't champagne."

"I appreciate your faith in my judgement."

Arthur smiled.

"I heard the Vale Quarter presentation is officially yours."

"It is."

"The board wanted someone experienced."

"They're getting someone prepared."

Martin laughed.

"That's exactly why we promoted you."

Arthur raised his glass.

"Congratulations, Senior Strategy Consultant."

"Thank you."

"For that," he added. "Not the wedding."

"I assumed."

Several executives nearby overheard the conversation.

One after another, they offered congratulations.

None of them mentioned me becoming a Vale. Every one of them spoke about Hartwell. About campaigns. Strategy. Work.

Those conversations lasted only minutes, but they mattered more than I expected.

A member of staff approached.

"The registrar is ready."

I followed him into Richard's study.

The marriage register rested on the desk beside two fountain pens.

The registrar smiled politely.

"If you'll sign here."

I picked up the pen first.

The ink dried almost instantly.

Avalan Vale.

For a moment, I stared at the ink.

It didn't look like my name.

I stepped aside.

Shadric signed beneath my name.

The registrar closed the book with a satisfied smile.

"It is official. Congratulations."

The study door opened before either of us answered.

An elderly gentleman entered carrying a walking stick.

"There you are, Richard."

Richard moved to the other side of the room at once.

"Edward."

The older man's attention moved towards me.

His steps slowed.

"So... is that the girl?"

Richard answered immediately.

"Edward, have you reviewed tomorrow's board papers?"

The question seemed to confuse him.

"I wasn't talking about the board."

"I need your opinion before lunch."

Edward looked back at me.

"I could have sworn she..."

"Come with me."

Richard rested a hand on his arm and steered him towards the hallway.

The door closed behind them.

I looked at Shadric.

"Who is he?"

"Edward Ashcombe."

"He knows me."

"I don't know."

"He recognised me."

"He recognised something."

"You're doing it again."

"What?"

"Answering without answering."

Before he could reply, Martin appeared at the doorway.

"Richard wants everyone in the ballroom."

We followed him back.

The guests gathered near the grand staircase while photographers prepared for another round of pictures.

Richard stood at the front with a champagne glass raised.

"My friends..."

Conversations faded.

"Today marks more than the joining of two families."

Applause rose around the ballroom.

I barely heard it.

Across the ballroom, Edward never looked at Richard again.

His eyes stayed on me.

Then he whispered, "No..."

"It can't be."

"She looks exactly like her."