The Billionaire’s Reluctant Bride (Elara and Victor) novel Chapter 8

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The wedding

Elara had called her mother the day before her wedding, feeling the heaviness in her heart for the conversation “she knew she had to have.

“Hello, Mom,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Elara. How are you?” her mother asked. Elara could sense the unease in her voice.

“Is something wrong, Mother?” she asked, her concern growing.

“Nothing,” her mother replied quickly, though Elara could tell she was holding something back.

“Is James there with you?” Elara inquired, he could ask her brother what was wrong with their mother.

“No, he’s out with his friends,” her mother answered. James was the social one, always surrounded by friends, unlike Elara, who preferred the company of a single close friend. “Why did you call? Do you have news for me?”

“Yes, Mother,” Elara began, her heart racing. “I’m getting married.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. Then her mother’s voice, sharp and incredulous, broke the silence. “What! You’re joking, right?”

“No, Mother. Or am I too young to marry?”

“No, you’re twenty–eight and old enough to start your own family,” her mother replied, though her voice was tinged with surprise. “I’m just surprised you’re telling me now. How long have you been planning this? And why haven’t you introduced me to him yet?”

Her mother kept asking questions. How could she tell her it was a contract marriage? It would break her if she found out.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I should have brought him home earlier, she said, her hand clenching into a fist.

“Is it because I was sick?” Her mother’s question caught Elara off guard. “Or do you think I don’t deserve to meet him?”

“No, Mother,” Elara reassured her, her voice him.”

acking slightly. “I will bring him home soon. You’ll get to meet

Her mother’s silence was heavy with unspoken disappointment, but after a moment, she offered her blessing. Well, I wish you the best, dear. Just promise me you’ll be happy.”

(

“This marriage ends in a year; by then, everyone can go their separate ways,‘ she whispered to herself. If it weren’t for her brother possibly seeing the news of their marriage, she wouldn’t have bothered telling them. After all, the marriage wasn’t based on love.

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She stood before the full–length mirror in a small, tastefully decorated room at the back of the courthouse.

She barely recognized the woman staring back at her. The simple, elegant white dress she wore fit her perfectly, accentuating her slender frame without being overly flashy Her hair was styled in soft waves, cascading down her back, and her makeup was minimal, just enough to enhance her natural features. The woman in the mirror looked calm, composed, and ready for whatever lay ahead. But inside, Elara’s emotions were a turbulent storm.

It was a swift, unceremonious affair, just as he had promised. There were no flowers, no guests, no grand venue- just the two of them, the officiant, and a handful of Damian’s lawyers. Elara had insisted on having Leah present, even if her family wasn’t, a small act of defiance to assert her own presence in this arrangement. But the entire

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The wedding

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ordeal felt surreal, as if she were watching it happen to someone else.

“You look beautiful.” Damian’s voice broke through her thoughts.

She turned to see him standing in the doorway, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and lean frame. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes- admiration, perhaps, or maybe something deeper that she couldn’t quite place.

“Thank you,” she replied, her voice steady despite the emotions churning inside her. “You look… appropriate.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Damian’s mouth I suppose that’s the best I can hope for under the circumstances.”

They were both quiet for a moment. Then, with a nod, Damian extended his arm.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of tension.

She hesitated only for a heartbeat before slipping her arm through his. Together, they walked out of the room and down the short hallway to the small, nondescript courtroom where the ceremony would take place.

The officiant, a stern–looking judge, was already waiting for them. The lawyers stood off to the side, their faces impassive, as if they were merely witnesses to another business transaction. In many ways, that’s exactly what this was.

“Are we ready to begin?” the judge asked, glancing between them.

Elara and Damian nodded, and the judge launched into the standard civil ceremony. The words washed over Elara, barely registering as she stood beside Damian, her arm still linked with his. It wasn’t until the judge asked her to repeat her vows that the reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks.

“I, Elara Hart, take you, Damian Blackwood, to be my lawfully wedded husband…‘

The words felt foreign on her tongue, as if they belonged to someone else. But she forced herself to continue, to push through the discomfort, because this was what needed to be done. This was the price she had to pay to reclaim her life.

Damian’s vows were brief and delivered with a calm demeanor that revealed little emotion. However, when he placed the plain gold ring on Elara’s finger, his touch lingered for a moment longer than expected. Elara looked up at him, hoping to discern his true feelings, but his usual guarded expression gave nothing away.

“And by the power vested in me by the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the judge declared, closing the ceremony with a definitive tone. “You may kiss the bride.”

Her breath caught in her throat. This was the part she had been dreading–the public display of affection that would solidify the charade. She turned to Damian, her heart pounding, unsure of how to proceed.

Damian hesitated for just a moment before leaning in. His lips brushed against hers in a soft, chaste kiss, nothing more than a brief press of mouths. But even in its simplicity, the kiss sent a jolt of electricity through Elara, igniting a spark she hadn’t expected.

When he pulled back, his eyes locked with hers, and for a fleeting second, there was something in his gaze- something vulnerable, almost questioning. But then it was gone, replaced by his usual composed demeanor. “Congratulations,” the judge said, his voice breaking the moment. “You’re now officially married.”

She forced a smile, nodding her thanks as Damian led her away from the judge’s desk. The lawyers offered their brief congratulations, but it was all so clinical and detached There was no joy, no celebration–only the cold, hard reality of what they had just done.

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As they exited the courthouse, the media surrounded them with cameras flashing and reporters shouting questions. Damian’s security team swiftly guided them into a waiting car, shielding them from the chaos. Despite being inside the vehicle, Elara still felt the weight of the public’s scrutiny.

“You handled that well,” he uttered as the car pulled away, his voice laced with a hint of approval.

“I’m used to dealing with high–pressure situations,” Elara replied, keeping her gaze fixed on the window, watching as the city streets blurred by.

Damian remained silent, and the tension between them grew palpable. Elara was keenly aware of the wedding ring on her finger, a symbol of the vow she had recently taken.

As they neared his mansion, the reality of her new life began to sink in. She was now Mrs. Damian Blackwood, the billionaire’s reluctant bride, tied to him in a marriage of convenience that neither of them truly wanted. But as much as she resented the circumstances that had brought them to this point, she couldn’t ignore the growing curiosity about the man she had just married.

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