Chapter 5: The Wedding That Wasn’t

I wasn’t released until the day of the wedding. Calling it a wedding isn’t right—I was just a companion, dressed in peach-pink and driven in a black car, merged into the legitimate sister’s endless line of wedding limos. The car rolled past tidy lawns and plastic flamingos, neighbors craning for a look and a story to text their friends.

While the legitimate sister and the Second Son entered the bridal suite, I waited outside the door. The hallway was silent except for the hum of the AC and muffled laughter from the ballroom. I smoothed my dress and forced myself to breathe.

His dark eyes flashed with amazement, then he looked at the legitimate sister, his voice gentle as water. He looked at her like she was the only person in the world. I felt invisible again—almost relieved.

"Our wedding night shouldn’t have outsiders present." He glanced at me, his voice hardening. After, he turned to me and coldly rebuked, "Get out."

I silently withdrew. Before leaving, I saw the legitimate sister blush with joy beneath her veil. She looked radiant, pearls in her hair glowing like moonlight.

In this marriage, it was clear the First Lady and the Second Son had struck a deal. It was politics, not romance. Even the flowers seemed to know—arranged perfectly, but without a trace of scent.

The Second Son wanted to become the heir, the First Lady wanted a supporter for her child. The legitimate sister was the link in this transaction. I was a pawn, but I’d learned to play my part.

The Second Son was showing his sincerity to the First Lady. Early the next morning, I went to visit the legitimate sister. She looked radiant, as if glowing with happiness. The sun made her cheeks pink and her hair gleam. She greeted me with the easy confidence of someone whose future was finally secure.

Looking at me, she spoke with condescension: "Later, we have to go to the White House to pay our respects. You come as well." She adjusted her pearls in the mirror, barely glancing at me. "Even though you’re a companion, you’re still a daughter of the Song family. We can’t let others say I mistreat my sisters."

Her tone was syrupy sweet, but the warning was clear. I nodded in agreement. No point in arguing. In this house, appearances were everything.

When she wasn’t around, the Second Son sneaked up to me, grabbed my hand with ill intent, and winked. "Tonight I’ll come to your room. Remember to wait for me."

His breath reeked of last night’s whiskey. He squeezed my hand, intentions as clear as the gold band on his finger. His words made my skin crawl, but I just smiled—fake and bright as a reality TV star. Inside, I felt cold—ice spreading through my veins, numbing everything but my resolve.