Trapped in my Sister's Wedding Vows

The limousine rolled through iron gates.

Mireya barely noticed the city fading behind her. Her fingers stayed locked around the wedding ring, cold against her skin.

Across from her, Ronan sat still.

Controlled.

Watching.

"Where are we going?" she asked quietly.

"To the estate," he replied. "Your room is prepared."

"My room?""Yes."The word felt deliberate."And if Arabella doesn't return?"His gaze shifted to her slowly. "Then this arrangement continues."

Not temporary. Not optional.

Continues.

The Ashcroft estate rose ahead, glass, steel, and cold precision. No warmth.Just power.

Inside, the ceilings stretched high. Marble floors. Portraits of past Ashcrofts lining the walls like silent judges.

Ronan guided her forward with a firm hand at her back.

"Your room is here," he said, stopping at a large door.

"You stay inside unless I call for you."

She stiffened. "Am I allowed to leave the house?"

"Only if it benefits this investigation."

Investigation.Not marriage.She swallowed. "You're treating me like a suspect."

He didn't deny it.

Her room was elegant. Neutral tones. Perfectly arranged.

And suffocating.

The windows barely opened.

The lock clicked softly behind her.

That sound echoed louder than anything else.

Dinner was silent.

A table set for twelve.

Only two seated."You're not eating," Ronan said without looking up.

"I'm not hungry."

"You are," he replied calmly. "You just don't trust the situation."

She met his eyes. "Do you?"A faint pause."No."

After dinner, he led her to his study.

Dark wood shelves. Heavy curtains. A desk positioned like a command center.

"You will not contact anyone," he said. "No press. No friends. No sudden movements."

"You think I'll run?"

"I think," he said evenly, "you're capable of more than you pretend."

Her jaw tightened.

Before she could respond...

A metallic click sounded from somewhere behind the bookshelves.

She turned sharply.

A narrow panel in the wall shifted inward.

A hidden door.

Her pulse spiked."You didn't mention that," she said.

"I don't mention everything."

The door opened slightly. A dim corridor stretched beyond it.

Before she could move...

The study door behind them slammed shut.Both of them turned.A folded envelope slid across the floor.Silence.

Mireya stepped forward slowly and picked it up.

Her name was written across the front.

Not in her sister's handwriting.

Her fingers trembled as she opened it.A photograph fell out.Arabella.Alive.Bound to a chair.Eyes open.Terrified.Mireya's breath shattered. "She's alive."Ronan's expression didn't change.Interesting.Too calm."Where is she?" Mireya demanded, turning to him.

"We'll find out," he said evenly.

A faint noise echoed down the hidden corridor.

A scrape.

Then silence.

Ronan's gaze sharpened.

"We're not alone," he said quietly.

The lights flickered once.

Mireya's heart pounded in her throat.Because this was no runaway bride.This was a message.

And whoever sent it... was inside the house.