Chapter 209

Chapter 209
Claire's POV

I jolted awake at 3:47 a.m., my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. Cold sweat soaked my skin, and my hands trembled as I fumbled for my phone on the bedside table in the guest suite of Stanton Manor. The screen glowed harshly in the dark, confirming the ungodly hour. My breath came in sharp gasps as the remnants of the nightmare clung to me like a suffocating fog. In the dream, I was draped in a Vera Wang wedding gown, standing beside Richard, exchanging rings under a canopy of lies, when a call shattered everything—Daniel had died on a mission overseas. The pain was so real, so raw, that even now, awake in the quiet of Bellevue, Washington, I couldn’t shake the terror. I glanced at the window; the starlit sky outside was calm, a cruel contrast to the storm raging inside me. Five hours until I had to get up for the wedding, but sleep was a lost cause.

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over Daniel’s contact. Finally, I hit the FaceTime button. The screen flickered, and he answered instantly, his face appearing in the dim light of his downtown apartment. He hadn’t slept either; I could see it in the tight set of his jaw, the alertness in his blue-gray eyes.

“Are you thinking about me, Mr. Brown?” I forced a playful tone, but my voice cracked, betraying the tremor beneath.

Daniel shifted on his bed, the faint outline of his broad shoulders visible against the shadows. “Without you, this bed feels as cold as a military cot in the field.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the phone. I didn’t tell him about the nightmare, but my eyes must have given me away. He leaned closer to the screen, concern etching lines on his face. “You okay? What’s going on?”

“Just pre-wedding jitters,” I mumbled, my gaze dropping to avoid his piercing stare. “I needed to know you’re still there.”

Before we hung up, Daniel pressed a kiss to his fingertips and touched the screen. I mirrored him, a virtual connection that somehow steadied my racing heart. “See you tomorrow, future Mrs. Brown,” he said, his voice a low promise. I clung to that sound as I set the phone down, staring at the ceiling, willing the fear to fade.

By 9:00 a.m., Stanton Manor buzzed with activity. Charlotte, the wedding planner, arrived with her team of twenty, transforming the main hall into a vision of elegance. I sat at the vanity, watching my reflection in the ornate mirror as Emily, my assistant, hovered nearby. My eyes caught a subtle change in her waistline, and I couldn’t help myself. “You look different lately. Any good news to share?”

Emily’s eyes widened, meeting mine in the mirror before she shook her head, a silent plea to drop it for now. I nodded, respecting her privacy. The makeup artist, brushing powder over my face, noticed the puffiness under my eyes. “Sleepless night? Don’t worry, I’ve got tricks to fix that,” she said with a reassuring smile, her hands deftly working to conceal the evidence of my restless hours.

Emily stepped closer, her tone cautious. “Also, People magazine reached out. They’re pushing for exclusive coverage rights.”

I sighed, irritation flaring as I adjusted a strand of my hair. “Today’s my day, not their headline. Tell them no.”

At 11:30 a.m., I was in the manor’s oak-paneled study when Margaret, my mother, entered with an air of poised authority. She carried a small, vintage blue velvet box, her expression unreadable. “These earrings belonged to my grandmother. She wore them at her wedding in 1921,” she said, opening the box to reveal a pair of sapphire earrings that gleamed like deep ocean water in the sunlight streaming through the window.

I looked up, caught off guard. “I thought you didn’t approve of this marriage.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile, her fingers brushing the box’s edge. “Something old, something blue. Tradition matters, regardless of my opinions on your choices.”

I hesitated, then took the earrings, slipping them on. Margaret’s gaze softened, a rare glimpse of warmth. “They suit you. Better than I expected.”

Staring at my reflection, the weight of family history settled on my shoulders. For the first time in a long while, I felt a thread of belonging tying me to the Stantons, fragile but real.

In the early afternoon, as I stepped out of the dressing room in my wedding gown, the marble corridor echoed with my footsteps. I nearly collided with Nathan, my younger brother, dressed in a sharp suit with his tie loosened, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Didn’t think you’d show,” I said, stopping short, my voice tinged with surprise.

“You think I’d miss my favorite sister’s big day?” Nathan shot back, his tone light but his eyes serious as they scanned my dress. “You look like a true Stanton—graceful but deadly.”

He bent down, adjusting the train of my gown with a casual ease that made me smile despite myself. “I’m glad you found your SEAL, better than those Wall Street jerks,” he added, straightening up. We shared a quiet grin, a moment of understanding amidst the chaos.

By 5:30 p.m., the lakeside garden of Stanton Manor was a fairytale come to life. White and pale blue flowers adorned every corner, the lake reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun. Hundreds of candles waited to be lit, casting a warm glow over the scene. Socialites and business tycoons filled the front rows, while Daniel’s SEAL buddies stood by his side in formal attire, their presence a grounding force.

Daniel waited at the end of the petal-strewn aisle in a tailored navy suit, standing tall like he was on a ship’s deck, unyielding and strong. As the wedding march played, I walked alone—Father gone, no one to give me away. Whispers of awe rippled through the crowd, but my focus was on Daniel, his eyes locked on mine, intense and unwavering.

When we exchanged vows, his voice was steady, each word a lifeline. “Claire, through storms or calm, I’ll always be your shelter. My heart’s been yours for a long time; today, I give you my name, my life, my future.”

I kept mine short, my throat tight with emotion. “Daniel, I choose you today, tomorrow, forever. In a world full of uncertainty, you’re my only sure thing.”

As he lifted my veil and kissed me, I felt the slight tremble in his arms. Even this former SEAL, so unbreakable, was vulnerable in this moment. My chest ached with the depth of it all.

Later that night, after waving off the last guests, we boarded the Stanton family’s private jet, bound for the Maldives. I’d changed into a creamy silk set, shedding the heavy jewelry, while Daniel ditched his suit jacket and tie. The flight attendant offered us 1962 Dom Pérignon, the champagne’s crisp scent filling the cabin.

I leaned against his shoulder, gazing out at the clouds through the window. “Thank God we escaped everyone’s eyes. I can’t believe Jessica suggested a reality show right after the ceremony.”

Daniel chuckled, his breath warm against my hair. “I considered it for five minutes. Imagine ‘SEAL and Billionaire Bride.’ Ridiculous, right?”

We laughed, the sound easing the day’s tension, and shared our first kiss as a married couple on that plane, soaring through the night toward distant starlight.

It was nearly midnight when we landed at our private water villa in the Maldives. I slipped off my heels, padding barefoot to the terrace pool under the moonlight. The Indian Ocean stretched endlessly before us, dark and vast, with stars glittering overhead. Daniel lingered by the doorway, watching me, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “This place is even better than the photos,” he said, his voice low.

I turned to face him, the ocean breeze cool on my skin. “It’s not that the photos failed. They just can’t capture how it feels right now.”

He stepped closer, reaching behind me to unzip my dress, his lips brushing the back of my neck. A shiver ran through me, and I spun around, my eyes teasing. “Are you just going to stand there enjoying the view, or join me, Mr. Brown?”

His gaze darkened, a hungry edge to it as he started on his belt. I grinned, my tone playful but firm. “All of it off, Mr. Brown.”