“Mr. Ford...”
“Good afternoon Mr. Ford!”
The room was filled with voices greeting Weston.
He nodded slightly at everyone in acknowledgment, before his eyes fell on Stella, and his eyes stayed
glued on her.
The sight of her in the wedding dress mesmerized him so much that he could only stand in complete
silence.
The last time they got married, all they did was sign their names on dotted lines and not much else.
Stella was not someone special to him back then, so he didn‘t bother making any effort. Though he
treated her with dignity and respect, the fact remained that he didn‘t have any feelings for her.
In the end, all they did was invite Roger out for dinner. He didn‘t even inform any of his friends or family.
He remembered how Stella thanked him for settling her brother‘s medical bills. The overall impression
the day left on his mind was that the marriage was a transactional exchange.
Yet, before he could realize it, his mind would shift to Stella every time he stood on top of a high–rise
building and looked down at the crowd on the ground. Anytime he thought of home, the image of her
would pop up.
“Are you done testing your wedding suit, Mr. Ford? Madam still has a few dresses to try on. Would you
mind sitting here for a
while?” the designer asked, breaking his thoughts.
“There are some magazines for you to browse here,” said another staff member. Weston was now
surrounded by a few people trying to serve him. “Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr. Ford?”
“I don‘t need anything,” he told them, signaling them to leave him alone.
All along, his eyes were glued on his bride, who was standing in front of the mirror, wearing a long white
wedding dress.
He had always known that she was beautiful.
But her beauty was subtle. Her beauty demanded to be savored slowly and patiently, a beauty that
compelled him to cherish her and protect her carefully.
To him, beautiful women were a dime a dozen. He had always been surrounded by attractive people all
his life, not to mention the aristocratic roots he hailed from. He was used to having the best of everything,
including beautiful admirers. Guinevere, for example, was a gorgeous woman who had been in love with
him for as long as he could remember. Not to mention all the other girls from wealthy and powerful
families who adored and admired him.
Yet none of their beauty enthralled him enough to warm up to them in a way he‘d examine their beauty
intimately.
But Stella‘s beauty did...
He wanted to see her face without makeup. He wanted to see her all made up and glamorous. He
wanted to see her try
elegant dresses and precious jewelry of all manner. He wanted to see her all stripped, without so much a
stitch to hide her bare body from his probing eyes.
And she was now his bride.
Stella looked up to see Weston in through the mirror where their eyes met
She smiled at him and asked, “How do I look?”
“Stunning,” he replied.
Their conversation sounded simple and almost mundane, but each step Weston took to get to Stella
betrayed the underlying current of violent passion bubbling under his skin.
At the same time, Stella was examining Weston too. Compared to the bride‘s dress, the groom‘s
wedding suit looked much simpler. The black suit he donned himself was decorated with golden
embroidery at the cuffs, echoing the patterns on her wedding dress.
He looked nothing short of aristocratic, perhaps even princely.
The color black suited him very well. Some people looked like bank managers when they wore black
suits, but on Weston, it only heightened the air of grandeur and superiority he always had about him.
He stopped right behind Stella and wrapped his arms around her waist before telling her, “You look
beautiful.”
He leaned down until his lips brushed against her ear and looked into her eyes through the mirror.
“Very beautiful,” he emphasized in a voice deeper and huskier than before. His warm breath tickled her
ear.
“Stella... You’re mine.”
On the eve of the wedding day, Stella had assumed that she would be able to have a good rest, but
Weston had been ravishing her all day with even more ferociousness than usual.
In fact, he had been no different from a savage beast ever since they got back from trying on their
wedding outfits. All the while, his eyes had bewitched themselves on her, eyes that gleamed with a
greedy possessiveness.
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