Chapter 1
Elena Hart sat quietly on the floor, her fingers nervously twisting the satin fabric of her wedding dress. The bedroom was grand, elegant—yet completely unfamiliar. It didn’t feel like hers. In fact, nothing about today felt real.
Her heartbeat quickened.
"Why... Why did You plan this, God?" she whispered to herself, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. Her mind spiraled back to the ceremony just hours earlier.
Flashback
She stood under the arch of the old church, bathed in soft golden light streaming through stained glass windows. Her white gown flowed like a dream, and her hair was gently curled, falling perfectly on her shoulders. Across from her stood Damien Wolfe—tall, composed, striking in a classic black suit. He looked like a man from a fairytale, and yet, this didn’t feel like a fairytale to her.
They looked perfect together. At least, that’s what everyone else thought. Cheers and laughter filled the church as friends and family watched them, eyes glistening, voices full of hope.
But inside, Elena was uncertain. Is this really right? Is this the beginning of something beautiful… or a mistake I’ll never be able to undo?
She glanced at Damien. He was looking at her, a quiet intensity in his eyes. His gaze made her feel seen—and more nervous than ever.
The priest cleared his throat and smiled gently at them.
“Damien Wolfe, do you take Elena Hart to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, as long as you both shall live?”
Damien’s deep voice rang out with quiet confidence. “I do.”
The priest turned to her. “Elena Hart, do you take Damien Wolfe to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, as long as you both shall live?”
Her lips parted. For a second, her voice caught in her throat—but then, softly, she replied, “I do.”
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest announced warmly. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Damien stepped closer, his presence towering yet calm. He leaned in, his face just inches from hers, and gently cupped her face between his warm, steady hands.
It looked like a perfect moment—their lips about to meet under the soft light of the church.
But then… he didn’t kiss her.
Instead, Damien’s lips brushed against his own fingers, strategically placed to shield the act. From afar, it looked like a real kiss. The crowd erupted in cheers, none the wiser.
Elena’s eyes fluttered open in surprise. Her heart skipped a beat as the realization sank in—they hadn’t actually kissed. Only she and Damien knew the truth.
He leaned toward her ear, his breath warm against her skin. “Even if it’s a fake kiss,” he whispered in his deep, unreadable voice, “you shouldn’t open your eyes.”
A shiver ran down her spine.
Then, just as calmly, Damien stepped back and turned to face the guests, flashing a charming smile. Elena followed his lead, forcing a smile of her own—while inside, her mind raced with questions.
Back to Present:
Elena closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. She was married. To Damien Wolfe. But what did that mean now?
A knock echoed through the room.
Elena, who had been sitting on the floor lost in her thoughts, quickly scrambled to her feet and sat on the edge of the bed, straightening her dress in a rush.
Cough... cough...
A familiar voice followed, low and composed. “It’s me, Damien.”
There was a brief pause.
“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice even softer—deep, almost unreadable.
Elena hesitated for a split second. “You can come in,” she replied, her tone neutral but controlled.
The door opened with a soft click, and Damien stepped inside with quiet confidence. He scanned the room once, then walked over and settled on the couch near the bed.
Elena’s fingers curled into the fabric of her dress, gripping it tightly for a moment before she forced herself to relax. She kept her expression calm, unreadable.
Damien leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving her.
“Why didn’t you invite any of your friends, Dr. Elena?” he asked, his voice cool and deliberate, the title rolling off his tongue with a subtle hint of mockery—or maybe curiosity.
She hesitated, her gaze dropping for a second before she answered quietly, “They were... quite busy.”
Damien let out a low, dry laugh—short, almost amused—but it sent a strange chill down her spine.
He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on her.
“You’re bad at lying,” he said, his voice soft but sharp. “Just like the last time.”
Elena’s eyes widened a little, her heart skipping. She looked up at him. “Hmm...?” she breathed, confusion—or maybe fear—blinking across her face.
Damien rose from the couch and walked slowly toward her, each step measured and quiet. He stopped right in front of her, so close she could feel the warmth of his presence. Elena’s breath hitched, but she forced herself to meet his gaze.
“What lie are you talking about?” she asked, trying to sound composed, though her voice trembled just slightly.
Without warning, Damien pushed her gently back onto the bed, his hands firm but not rough. Before she could process what was happening, he climbed over her, caging her between his arms.
“What are you doing?!” she gasped, fear flashing in her eyes at the sudden closeness.
Damien leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers, but he didn’t kiss her. Instead, his breath brushed against her ear as he whispered in a voice that was dark and smooth like velvet, “Shh… quiet.”
She froze.
His lips barely grazed her skin as he whispered again, slower this time, “Seems like my dear wife is already eager to divorce me…”
She swallowed hard.
Damien’s hand slid under her chin, lifting her face gently until her eyes locked with his. His gaze was intense—almost unreadable, a storm of emotions swirling just beneath the surface.
“I never that we will divorce during our last meeting… did I?”
Elena blinked, unsure. “What do you mean…?”
A smirk tugged at the corner of Damien’s lips. “Mrs. Wolfe, you really should remember your place now... because starting today—you belong to me.”
His words sent a chill down her spine. She didn’t know whether to fight back or fall deeper into his gaze.
And just like that, Damien pulled away, standing up again as if nothing had happened.
“I didn’t want to marry you either,” he said casually, brushing invisible dust off his sleeves.
Elena sat up, stunned. “Then why—what are you trying to say? Are you playing with me?”
He didn’t answer. He simply turned his back, walking slowly toward the door.
“Get freshened up. Go to sleep,” he said coolly, pausing with his hand on the door handle.
But then he turned, eyes meeting hers once more—darker this time, almost dangerous.
“Oh—and don’t think you can hide this marriage from your friends,” he added with a wry smile. “Not just because I mentioned divorce.”
She stared at him, confused and overwhelmed.
Damien’s voice dropped even lower, almost teasing. “By tomorrow morning, our wedding photos will be all over the news channels and newspapers.”
Her eyes widened. “What...?”
He raised an eyebrow, amused by her shock. “You’re Mrs. Wolfe now, Elena. The world will know.”
And with that, he smirked.
“Happy marriage, my dear wife.”
Then he turned and walked out, leaving her alone in the silence of their wedding night—with nothing but questions and the echo of his words lingering in the air.The Next Morning
Elena barely slept.
Her mind had replayed Damien’s words again and again through the long, restless night. You belong to me… His voice haunted her even now, curling around her thoughts like smoke she couldn’t escape.
Morning light filtered in through the heavy curtains, warm but unwelcome.
With a sigh, she rolled over and reached for her phone on the nightstand—its screen was flooded with notifications. Dozens of messages. Missed calls. Mentions.
Her heart skipped.
10+ missed calls – Adrian Vale
Messages – Group Chat: Caduceus (Hospital Team)
Confused, she unlocked her phone—and then froze.
Her thumb hovered over the screen as the truth crashed into her like a wave.
Photos. Dozens of them.
She and Damien standing at the altar. Holding hands. The "kiss."
Smiling.
Every angle captured, perfectly framed.
And then the headlines:
> "DAMIEN WOLFE SECRETLY MARRIED DR. ELENA HART—THEY’VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR SIX YEARS!"
"BEAUTY & BILLIONS: THE PRIVATE LOVE STORY OF HART & WOLFE"
Elena’s hands trembled. Her phone slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor with a dull thud. She barely heard it.
She opened the group chat. Her hospital colleagues. Her friends.
The place where she'd once felt respected... safe.
Dr. Mira:
So she was lying this whole time?
Nurse Priya:
I literally asked her if she was dating anyone last week. She said no. Wow.
Resident Kavya:
She probably thought we’d try to steal him. Greedy much?
Adrian Vale:
Elena, call me back. Please.
Her throat tightened.
The people she’d worked with. Helped. Laughed with. Now they saw her as nothing more than a liar... a gold-digger.
Not because she was married—but because they believed the lie Damien had fed the media.
Six years...?
She didn’t even know him six months ago.
Elena didn’t wait a second longer.
She stood up, wiped her face, and hurried to get ready. As she slipped into her clothes, her fingers trembled while dialing Adrian Vale’s number—the only person she trusted right now.
The call connected.
“Hello… Adrian?” Her voice was low, almost broken.
“Finally,” Adrian sighed, his voice tight with concern. “I’ve been calling you nonstop.”
They talked for over half an hour. He listened without judgment as she told him everything—her voice cracking at times, words stumbling as guilt crept in.
Adrian was the only one who knew about the arranged marriage. The only one who knew there was a hidden reason behind it all.
“I warned you,” he said softly. “I told you—what if people find out? Now look… it’s everywhere.”
“I know,” Elena whispered, guilt washing over her. “You were right. I was so stupid to trust a stranger. I thought… I thought it would stay quiet.”
She couldn’t finish. Her throat tightened.
How was she supposed to walk into the hospital now? How could she face their eyes?
But Adrian’s voice was calm, reassuring. “It’s okay. Don’t panic. I have an idea.”
She blinked. “An idea? What is it?”
“Just show up. Come to work like normal,” he said firmly. “Let me handle the rest.”
“Okay… thank you, Adrian,” she breathed. He had always been her anchor.
There was a pause, then Adrian added playfully, “Umm… anyway, happy marriage.”
Elena let out a dry laugh, half-sighing. “Adrian, please. At least you don’t turn into one of them now. You know this whole thing is a mess.”
“I know, I know,” he replied quickly. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood. But seriously… something’s bothering me.”
“What?”
“That night… he lied to you, didn’t he?”
Elena paused.
Her breath stilled.
That night.
The one where it all began.
Her mind slipped into silence as the memory started to replay in her head… the moment when everything changed.
One Month Ago
VIP Patient Room No. 12
Elena stood beside the hospital bed, gently adjusting the wires connected to the elderly woman’s heart monitor. The soft beeping echoed in the room, steady now—much steadier than it had been months ago.
The patient, lovingly called Grandma Wolfe by the staff, had been in critical condition when she was first admitted. But through relentless treatment, tireless nurses, and Elena’s careful care, she’d pulled through.
She wasn’t perfectly well—but she was alive. And grateful.
Elena smiled warmly. “Grandma, your vitals are stable. You can go home tomorrow morning.”
A glow lit up the old woman’s wrinkled face, and her son and daughter-in-law—standing nearby—thanked Elena with heartfelt gratitude.
“God bless you, Dr. Hart,” the woman’s son said.
Just as Elena turned to leave for her next rounds, Grandma Wolfe reached for her wrist with surprising strength.
“Elena,” she asked softly, “are you married?”
Elena turned back, surprised, then smiled politely. “No, not yet.”
The old woman’s eyes twinkled, a subtle sadness beneath her smile. “Hmm… such a kind girl like you should be cherished. My last wish,” she said slowly, “is to live long enough to see my grandson get married.”
Elena’s smile lingered politely, unaware of the weight her simple answer would carry.
No one—not even Elena herself—knew that a single word, spoken so casually…
"No."
…was about to change her life forever.
...............
Thank you for reading my first story .
(I will update the characters introduction and a short trailer in the next chapter ☆)
