Chapter 1 Your Fiance Calls Me Uncle
\-Celeste-
“The wedding fitting is in an hour. I’ve arranged everything, all you have to do is pick one from the four.”
Grandmother said, her eyes never leaving the stack of papers surrounding her desk. I sat across from her in the leather armchair of her study, fingers clenched in my laps.
“Grandmother, I told you I was supposed to be at the launch event for my cake brand. I’ve been planning it for months—”
“Your cake brand?” She scoffed, “Darling, no one cares what the heiress is baking. They care who she marries. Now be useful, and go try on the dresses.”
Her words struck like glass, but I said nothing. Couldn’t say anything. I just stood, smoothed my blouse and left the study.
I was on my way out, when I saw Colin, my fiancé, sitting at the dining table, halfway through the breakfast the chefs had made for him. We were to be married in a few days, and although our marriage was arranged, it was convenient because we were in love.
Colin raised his eyes to meet mine as a small smile spread on his charming face.
“I’m heading out for my dress fitting, would you like to come?” I asked, my tone low and polite.
“Now?” He blinked, his expression unreadable.
“Yes. Grandmother has already picked them; I just have to try them on.”
He shook his head, reaching for his phone as if it was more important. “Can’t. I’ve got a court appearance today.”
Then he added, his eyes never leaving his phone as a smile tugged on his lips, “Just pick whatever you like. I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in anything.”
I probably shouldn’t have asked in the first place, I thought to myself as I got in my car and drove to the boutique.
Why was Colin suddenly different? My mind reeled. Before our engagement, he was all over me, attentive, affectionate, and always present. But now, just days before the wedding, he was distracted and distant.
From the boutique’s warm welcome and grand gestures, I could tell they had been patiently awaiting my arrival. Of course, they had to. I was an Ashford. A member of one of the most influential families in the country.
“Miss, your dressing room is ready,” the manager called out, pulling me from my thoughts.
I stepped into the suite, only to be greeted by four dresses that made me pause. They were no doubt expensive, but…ugly. Bold patterns, awkward cuts and generally unflattering.
“Miss, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to let us know,” the manager said, offering a polite smile before slipping out of the room.
I let out an exasperated sigh and got to work, trying out the first three dresses, but they were as bad as they looked on the hanger.
Slipping into the fourth, I turned toward the mirror, tilting my head and adjusting the fabric, trying to convince myself there might be something beautiful about it.
Then, a voice cut through the silence.
“That dress doesn’t do anything for you.”
“Excuse me?” I snapped, turning to see a handsome young man standing in the doorway, his expression unbothered, almost bored.
“How did you get in here?” I demanded.
“It’s as bad as it gets,” he said casually. You look like a tired maid from the 1800s. Depressing to look at.”
I scoffed, feeling insulted. “Have you been watching me?”
He shrugged, his expression unfazed. “I mean, the room isn’t as private as you think.”
He stepped closer, and I instinctively retreated, nearly tripping over the hem of the dress.
“Who are you?” I mumbled, stepping away further.
“You don’t know me,” he murmured, pressing me against the mirrored wall of the room, his gaze sharp, burning with an intensity that made my heart race. “But your fiancé calls me ‘Uncle.’”
Uncle?
I gasped, trying and failing to stay composed. “Then why are you here?”
He leaned in, voice low, dangerous. “To stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life by marrying me instead.”
At that moment, I stifled a laugh, trying to make sense of what he had just said. “Is this some kind of joke?” I asked, arching my eyebrows in annoyance.
“Do I look like I am telling jokes, Celeste?” he retorted, his voice laced with anger.
How did he know my name? I wondered.
“Look, my nephew and the rest of my family are out to use you. You have to call off this wedding!” He said with such terrifying intensity that I nearly believed his words.
But, Colin never had an uncle. And even if he did, I would know. We should have met at the countless family meetings we had in the past. Also, he was just too young.
“Please leave,” I finally said, feeling the weight of the words slip from my mouth.
His gaze faltered for a moment, his eyes pleading. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into—”
“I said leave before I call security!” I said, half screaming.
Just then, a staff member came rushing in, her expression apologetic. At the same time, he smoothed his suit, and buttoned up, then quietly turned and walked out of the room as if I was nothing more than air.
The audacity! I screamed in my mind as I turned to the staff.
“How did he get in here?” I demanded.
“I’m sorry, Miss. He said he was your fiancé.”
I scoffed, unsure of whether to be amused or upset. Quietly, I slipped out the dress and told them I would return the next day.
I got in my car and shut the door. My hands were shaking, not from the spiteful dresses or the staff’s awkward stares.
From him.
He said he was Colin’s uncle, but I had met Colin’s family. All of them, so who was he, and how did he know so much about me?
I slid the key into the ignition, gripping the wheel. But as my foot pressed against the brake, it felt soft—wrong.
Before I could try again, a sharp knock hit the window, making me jump.
Him.
He was standing there calm, composed and with the same stare, like he never left.
Was he stalking me? My mind reeled as I cracked the window just enough to speak. “What do you want now?” I asked, my heart pounding hard against my chest.
He didn’t blink, but his voice was calm, flat and certain.
“You’re going to die if you drive that car.”