Bianca walked down the aisle, her steps slow, deliberate—a bride walking toward her own grave.
The grand hall stretched before her, glittering with golden chandeliers and candlelight, but it felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in. Too many eyes. Too many whispers. Too many lies.
She could still hear her mother's voice in the corridors.
"This marriage will seal our power, Bianca. Some things must be given… for the greater good."
Given. Like she was some offering on an altar.
She clenched her jaw. Naomi had never loved her. That much was clear now.
But it wasn't Naomi who made her stomach turn.
It was Austin.
Her uncle. Her father.
The thought sank in like poison, burning through her veins.
Her fingers curled at her sides as she walked, nails digging into silk.
She should have seen it sooner.
Everything.
