Chapter 6 The Wedding Eve
The days blurred into a haze of final preparations and forced normalcy. Maddie threw herself into her architecture studio work, spending long hours in the university lab refining her thesis project, a sustainable urban community center that felt more like an escape than assignment. Every line she drew, every model she built, was a distraction from the countdown ticking in her head. The wedding was tomorrow. One more night of freedom, then a year of pretending.
Her phone buzzed mid-afternoon on Friday, pulling her from a rendering on her screen.
Ben: Pack your things. I’m picking you up at 6. Moving you in tonight. Stepdad wants us to have dinner with him at 8.
No greeting. No question. Just orders.
Maddie stared at the message, her stomach twisting. She’d known this was coming, part of the contract stipulated she’d move into the family estate immediately after the wedding, but doing it the night before felt like surrendering early. Still, arguing would only make things worse. Ben held all the cards.
She spent the next hours packing in a numb daze. Two suitcases: clothes, laptop, drafting supplies, a few cherished books and photos. The apartment looked barren once the personal touches were gone, bare walls where her inspiration boards had hung, empty shelves that used to hold models and sketches. This had been her sanctuary for three years. Now it felt like a shell.
At exactly 6:00, Ben’s sleek black SUV pulled up outside. He didn’t get out to help, just sat in the driver’s seat scrolling his phone while she wrestled her bags down the stairs. When she climbed in, the silence was thick enough to choke on.
“Hi,” she said quietly, buckling her seatbelt.
He grunted in response, pulling away from the curb without looking at her. The city lights blurred past as they drove toward the outskirts, where the buildings grew farther apart and the properties larger. Neither spoke. Maddie stared out the window, her mind drifting inevitably to Alexander, the way his presence had filled a room without trying, the warmth of his jacket around her shoulders that night in the alley. Ben’s silence felt cold by comparison, hostile.
They turned onto a private road lined with mature oaks, and the estate came into view. Maddie’s breath caught despite herself. The house…no, mansion, was breathtaking. A sprawling modern masterpiece of glass and stone, three stories high with wings extending on either side like embracing arms. Floodlights illuminated manicured lawns that stretched endlessly, and at the center of the circular driveway stood an enormous marble fountain, water cascading in elegant tiers. Spotlights highlighted classical statues around its base.
To the left, extensive gardens bloomed even in winter, carefully tended roses and evergreens forming natural archways and pathways. White tents were already being erected, chairs arranged in perfect rows facing a floral arch draped in ivory fabric. Workers moved like ants, stringing fairy lights and placing centerpieces. Tomorrow, this will be the wedding venue. Her wedding venue.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, unable to help herself.
Ben glanced over briefly. “Yeah. Stepdad spared no expense. Image is everything in our world.”
Our world. The words landed strangely. She wasn’t part of this world, not really. She was a temporary fixture, a means to an end.
They pulled up to the main entrance, where liveried staff immediately appeared to take her bags. Ben led her inside without ceremony. The foyer alone was larger than her entire apartment, marble floors gleaming under a massive crystal chandelier, dual staircases curving upward like something from a palace. Fresh flowers overflowed from vases on every surface, their scent mingling with the faint aroma of polished wood and money.
“I thought we’d be staying at your place,” Maddie said as they climbed the stairs, her voice echoing slightly.
Ben shook his head. “Stepdad insisted. Wants the family together, especially with the wedding. He’s… traditional about appearances.”
A uniformed butler met them on the landing. “Mr. Hargrove, sir. I’m afraid your stepfather was called away to a business dinner. He sends his apologies and says he’ll return soon.”
Ben’s jaw tightened, clearly this wasn’t the plan. “Fine. Tell him I’ll see him in the morning before the ceremony. I want to introduce them properly.”
“Of course, sir.” The butler turned to Maddie with a polite smile. “Miss Thompson, your room is this way.”
Ben stopped at a door halfway down the east wing corridor. “This is you. Guest suite. Settle in. I’ll have dinner sent up if Dad doesn’t make it back in time.”
He started to walk away, then paused. “Tomorrow everything changes. Try to look happy about it, yeah? For appearances.”
Then he was gone, leaving her alone in the vast hallway.
The room was stunning, larger than most apartments, with a king bed draped in silk, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens, and an en-suite bathroom that could fit her old studio twice over. Her bags had already been unpacked, clothes hung neatly in the walk-in closet. Someone had even arranged her drafting supplies on a beautiful antique desk by the window.
Maddie sank onto the edge of the bed, the reality crashing over her. Tomorrow she would walk down that garden aisle toward Ben. Tomorrow she would say vows that meant nothing, bind herself to a man she didn’t love for money she desperately needed.
And everywhere she looked, the house reminded her of Alexander.
The architecture itself, the clean lines, the way the structure seemed to embrace the landscape rather than dominate it, echoed the house she’d sketched that night after seeing him at the hospital. The fountain in the driveway reminded her of his strength, steady and unyielding. Even the scent of the fresh flowers brought back his cologne, something wild beneath the cultivated perfection.
She stood at the window, watching workers string lights in the garden below. Tomorrow those lights would illuminate her fake wedding. Tomorrow she’d become Mrs. Ben Hargrove in every way that mattered on paper.
Her phone sat heavy in her pocket. She hadn’t heard from Alexander since the hospital, no more texts, no mysterious appearances. Part of her was relieved. The rational part that knew entanglements with mysterious strangers who talked about “mates” and made her body sing with a single touch had no place in her carefully constructed survival plan.
But another part, a deeper, aching part, missed him with a ferocity that scared her.
The house felt too large, too quiet. Every shadow seemed to hold the possibility of him appearing, those storm-gray eyes seeing straight through her carefully constructed walls. She imagined him here, in this space, how he would fill it differently than Ben, with presence rather than possession.
A soft knock at the door made her jump. Dinner, a tray with covered dishes that smelled incredible but which she barely touched. After the staff collected it, she tried to work on her laptop, pulling up her thesis files. But the words blurred together, her mind elsewhere.
As night deepened, the estate grew quiet. Maddie stood at the window again, watching the garden transform under moonlight. The floral arch looked almost magical, draped in white roses and baby’s breath. Tomorrow she’d walk beneath it toward a future she’d sold herself for.
She should feel grateful. This money would save her mother, secure her sister’s dreams, let her finish her degree. This was the practical choice. The responsible one.
But as she finally crawled into the enormous bed, surrounded by luxury that felt like a cage, one truth burned bright in the darkness:
This house, this life, this marriage, it all felt wrong.
Because somewhere out there was a man who’d saved her not for what she could give him, but because she was his. A man who’d touched her like she was precious, looked at her like she was everything.
A man who called her his mate.
And tomorrow, she was marrying someone else.