CHAPTER 13

Time felt like an enemy, each ticking second at the altar felt like a wasted moment, that could have been spent planning how to expose and unravel this girl, who was to be his future wife. He had unwavering certainty that she was merely a money-hungry opportunist, desperate for financial gain. He couldn't fathom the idea of allowing a gold digger to be his wife.

While he had to play along for the sake of Angela and his father, he was determined to uncover a path out of this arrangement without forfeiting his title and inheritance. The weight of that responsibility rested heavy on his shoulders.

Xavier closed his eyes, attempting to regain his composure. He took a slow, deep breath and willed his racing pulse to slow down. Deep within, he sought that cold, dark center to anchor himself.

Amid the storm of thoughts and emotions, Alex playfully nudged Xavier in the ribs, coaxing a reluctant smile from the groom.

"Man, it's your wedding day. Come on, smile!"

Xavier's perfectly styled hair held firm against the friendly nudge.

"Really? It's my Wedding day?" Xavier groaned with a hint of exasperation.

"And there I thinking, why hell am I standing at a fucking altar!"

Alex met Xavier's gaze, his eyes sparkling with encouragement, as a wide, infectious smile graced his lips.

"That's the spirit, buddy. Keep the humor going. It's better than sulking, right?" he reassured his friend, fully aware of Xavier's inner turmoil and trying to uplift his spirits.

As Xavier's eyes roamed over the venue, he observed a steady stream of well-dressed guests arriving. They were a diverse group, each wearing their finest attire, creating a visual symphony of colors and styles. Women floated by in elegant gowns, their jewelry glistening under the soft, warm lighting.

Men were dapper in sharp suits and tuxedos, exuding an air of sophistication.

Xavier's keen eye for detail didn't fail to pick out the distinct profile of the guests. They were not your everyday attendees; instead, they represented the crème de la crème of the elite. The room was filled with affluent individuals, power players in the business world, and trusted clients of his family's empire.

Distinguished in their attire and demeanor, the guests exuded an air of refinement and authority. Their conversations buzzed with the language of deals, mergers, and acquisitions, a testament to their stature and influence in the world of commerce.

As Xavier surveyed the room, he couldn't help but feel the weight of expectation and the immense responsibility that came with his role in this gathering of the elite.

In contrast to the guests, the waitstaff, dressed in sleek black uniforms, moved gracefully through the crowd. They carried trays adorned with glistening champagne flutes, their outfits adding a touch of formality to the bustling scene. As they weaved between the attendees, their movements were precise and efficient, offering guests the opportunity to indulge in champagne and enhancing the atmosphere of luxury and celebration.

The venue itself was a grand hall adorned with opulence. The walls were draped with rich, velvety curtains, and ornate chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm, ethereal glow throughout the space. Tables were adorned with elaborate centerpieces, and golden accents sparkled in the candlelight, creating an ambiance of grandeur and romance. Xavier couldn't help but notice the opulent setting that had been meticulously crafted for this momentous occasion.

Amidst the sea of well-dressed guests, a graceful waitress, impeccably dressed in a sleek black dress that clung to her every curve and black stilettos that accentuated her elegance, glided through the opulent hall. Her confident and measured steps marked her as a professional in the art of service.

She approached the altar, carrying trays of champagne, her arrival akin to a mirage amidst the guests who were engaged in hushed conversations. As she moved, her offering of bubbly refreshment was met with a subtle but appreciative murmur from the assembled elite, waiting with bated breath for the ceremony to commence. The champagne flutes glistened in the ambient light, promising a touch of luxury amid the anticipation.

As Xavier's internal turmoil continued to simmer, he couldn't help but entertain a peculiar thought. A brief escape from the chaotic atmosphere, which prompted him to take a step down from the altar and stroll over to the poised waitress, her tray laden with flutes of sparkling champagne.

"Champagne?" she inquired, each glass on her tray clinking softly against the others, creating a subtle melody of anticipation.

The day seemed to stretch on endlessly, and the lavish celebration felt like an ironic twist to his own misery. He couldn't resist the temptation of drowning his sorrows in champagne. He accepted a flute, watching the effervescent bubbles dance within the curved glass.

After a couple of sips, he excused himself and retreated to a far corner, where his thoughts could briefly find respite.

Xavier finished his drink and shifted his attention back to the assembled guests. He struggled to comprehend his father's decision to turn a simple signature on a piece of paper into this extravagant affair. It appeared as an unnecessary spectacle, further exacerbating his frustration.

Moments later, an arm wrapped around his waist, and warm lips brushed against his neck. "You okay, babe?" A familiar voice, whispered, evoking a mixture of emotions within him.

Xavier sighed deeply, a swirl of conflicting feelings within him. "Why the fuck are here, Elizabeth?" he questioned, his tone tinged with a touch of annoyance.

She pouted, her hand slipping to his waist as her warm breath sent shivers down his spine. "And why are you getting married? I thought you were against commitments," she retorted, her presence offering a strangely soothing distraction.

She was right - he had always shied away from commitments. Yet the altar stood in the center, a stark reminder of the irony of his situation. It was a grand, exquisitely adorned structure, adorned with white roses and bathed in soft, warm lighting. Ironically, it occupied the central position in the grand hall, where Xavier was poised to embark on an unwanted, life-altering journey. The frustration he felt simmered beneath the polished exterior, a stark contrast to the surroundings.

As much as Xavier was torn apart by anger and emptiness over what was to unfold, his body was still susceptible to the allure of another's touch. It was as if he stood parched in a desert, thirsting for anything to divert his thoughts away from Aurora.

He yielded, if only for a moment, his head tilting ever so slightly, hoping that her lips might continue their trail. Elizabeth's lips descended to a spot just below his ear.

"We can go somewhere more private if you want," she purred, her seductive tone attempting to pull him away from the impending chaos.

Xavier's internal turmoil waged war within him, torn between the desire to escape and the web of emotions that ensnared him. Before he could respond, a firm grip latched onto his elbow.

"I need to steal him. Just for a moment, Elizabeth, if you don't mind," a voice intervened, almost seething. It was Alex, stepping in to rescue Xavier from the treacherous temptation that had momentarily ensnared him.

Elizabeth sneered, her grip on Xavier's arm tight and possessive. "We are in the middle of something, Alex, if you don't mind," she said, shooting an icy glare at Xavier's best friend.

"Babe, tell him, and just come with me. We can sort things out," she implored with a hint of desperation. "I know I cheated on you, baby, but it meant nothing. You don't have to get married. We'll work things out."

Xavier's reaction was swift and furious.

He pulled his arm away from her grasp, his eyes flashing with anger.

"What the hell are you on about?" he snapped, his voice laced with disdain.

"I couldn't care less if you cheat on me or not. We're not together, and we never will be. Now get the hell out of here. You were not invited," he hissed, his fury now palpable. He turned and dragged away with Alex, who still had a firm grip on his elbow, leaving Elizabeth standing there, humiliated and rejected.

Xavier's inner turmoil was further amplified by Alex's rebuke. "What the hell is wrong with you, buddy? You're standing mere inches away from the altar, about to get married, and yet you have time for such an intimate escapade with your so-called companion. Uncle William is here somewhere, what if he had seen you, huh? You've already tested the last nerve of his patience. He won't take such a spectacle lightly!" Alex's scolding was punctuated with anger.

Xavier felt a surge of frustration bubbling within him. He yearned to grab the half-drunk glass of champagne from his hand and shatter it on the floor, to cause a scene that would eclipse his own internal turmoil.

But instead, he took a deep breath, trying to quell the tempestuous emotions coursing through him. Exhaling, he ran a shaky hand down his face.

"Shit! Shit Shit!" Xavier whispered under his breath.

The thought of his dad potentially witnessing that brief encounter had him seething.

"Buddy, you need to pull yourself together.

There are also a few members of the press here, and you need to maintain your composure," Alex advised, a sense of urgency in his tone.

Xavier sighed and nodded. He downed the last remnants of his champagne and began making his way back up the stairs to the altar, his steps heavy and resigned. He was ready to be sacrificed in this unwanted ceremony.