Chapter 1

Sofia’s PoV

I wiped tears from my eyes, hoping no one had seen me cry and that my mascara hadn't run. I was miserable, still in disbelief that I was seeing my husband-to-be for the first time as I walked down the aisle.

At least, I hoped he would be there; I feared he might elope. It wasn't that I particularly wanted to marry him, but being stood up at the altar would be incredibly humiliating.

"Ms. Baker?" One of the three women who'd shadowed me since arriving at the mansion called out as I adjusted my Versace wedding gown. I looked up.

"Yes?"

"Your grandfather is waiting for you. It's time."

It's time. It's time to marry a man I don't know.

Nodding, I checked my reflection one last time, ensuring my makeup wasn't smudged. Then, I left the room and descended the stairs toward the large wooden doors. My dress trailed behind me, and my four-inch heels were agonizing.

I felt suffocated, on the verge of another breakdown.

"Sofie!" My grandfather's eyes lit up when he saw me, and my own softened at the sight of him in his blue tuxedo. It's all for him, I reminded myself, he needs the money.

"Grandpa," I smiled softly, hurrying to him before he could walk over. He used to be tall and fit, but years of chemotherapy had weakened him.

"Oh! You look beautiful!" Tears glistened in his eyes. "I wish your parents could see you like this."

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I took his hand. "Are you happy, Grandpa?"

"Very." He beamed. "You'll be taken care of when I'm gone. Gabriel is a good man."

I nodded. I wasn't happy, but he didn't need to know that.

"Are you ready?" he whispered as we stood before the closed doors.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

The doors opened. Guests lined the aisle, their eyes on me. I heard hushed whispers and the flash of cameras.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Despite the extravagant, meticulously planned wedding—the Whitlock family had spared no expense—the only person I saw was the man at the end of the aisle.

Gabriel Whitlock.

I'd Googled him. I knew his brown eyes and dark hair, his lopsided smile, his broad shoulders, and his graceful posture, but my heart still skipped a beat when our eyes met. Oh, I so wished this were a fairytale, not a nightmare.

He checked his watch, a frown creasing his face before it softened when he saw me. An unreadable emotion flickered in his eyes, and I squirmed under his intense gaze.

He descended the aisle, extending his hand in a practiced gesture. The cameras flashed wildly as my grandfather placed my hand in his.

His palm was rough and large; mine felt tiny in his. What a mismatch.

"Hey," I whispered, surprising myself. My voice was so soft I wasn't sure he heard me, but he did. His eyes flickered to mine, lingering for a few seconds.

His jaw clenched, then he looked away.

He didn't look at me again during the ceremony. My cheeks were still flushed with embarrassment when the officiant asked, "Do you, Gabriel Whitlock, take Sofia Baker to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do." He finally turned to me, and I bit my lip.

"And do you, Sofia Baker, take Gabriel Whitlock to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

This was suffocating. My dress cost more than my apartment. "I do," I answered.

"Gabriel, you may kiss your bride." The world faded as he stepped toward me, towering over me despite my heels. He brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, cupped my cheek, and gently kissed me.

It was barely a touch.

He pulled away as quickly as he'd leaned in, as if the kiss were an unwelcome obligation.

We didn't attend the reception. After the ceremony, my grandfather ushered me inside.

"Seems Gabriel can't wait to get to know you," my grandfather chuckled, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"I absolutely cannot," Gabriel's voice cut in. A charming yet formal smile played on his lips.

"You take good care of my Sofie, okay?"

"She'll never have the chance to complain." He didn't look at me. "But I'm going to steal her from you now."

Grandpa smiled sadly, and I hugged him tightly. "I'll visit you tomorrow," I promised. "Don't forget your medicine."

He nodded. He was staying with Gabriel's grandparents—friends from college—for the next few days. I'd met them a few times; they visited frequently after learning of Grandpa's illness.

"Smile," Gabriel whispered as we began walking outside, drawing my attention.

"Huh?"

"I said… smile."

I frowned, confused, but as soon as we stepped outside, dozens of camera flashes blinded me. Reporters swarmed us, shouting overlapping questions I couldn't understand.

"Is this an arranged marriage?"

"Is this the first time you've met?"

"Mr. Whitlock, what about Ms. Grant?"

I could only focus on Gabriel. He'd wrapped an arm around my back, shielding me from the flashes as he guided us to the limousine and helped me inside.

Once the door closed, the gentleness he'd shown my grandfather and the cameras vanished. His jaw tightened, his eyes falling on his watch again.

I cleared my throat. "Is that normal for you?"

"Yes."

He looked out the window as the car pulled away, barely glancing at me.

"I'm Sofia… Baker," I said.

He looked at me as if I were an idiot. "I know," he deadpanned.

I fell silent.

He clearly wasn't interested in talking to me. I felt embarrassed for trying, and the urge to cry returned. I'd always known this wouldn't be a fairytale, but I'd hoped he'd at least look at me, talk to me, be friendly… something.

But his behavior made me feel like I'd married a robot.

After twenty minutes of silence—no music, windows up, the scent of air freshener and air conditioning suffocating me—I spoke again. "Have I offended you somehow?"

"Well, yes," he raised an eyebrow. "You married me."