Chapter 1: The Wedding Bells of Deception

The world says that love is a game of give and take. But for me, love was always about giving, never expecting anything in return. That's how I loved Dylan—unconditionally, irrevocably.

I remember the day I walked down the aisle, the soft rustle of my white gown whispering promises of forever. The grandeur of the Blake estate loomed around me, a testament to the life I was about to enter. I glanced at the sea of faces, searching for the one face that mattered most—Dylan.

He stood there, a statue of poise and power, his eyes a stormy sea that I wished to sail across. But even as I approached, I could feel the chill of his indifference. It was a stark contrast to the warmth of the sun that bathed us in its golden light.

"Dearly beloved," the minister began, his voice echoing through the silence. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of Sue Evan and Dylan Blake…"

The words faded into a blur as I looked at Dylan. I could see the reluctance, the barely concealed disdain. It was as if he was miles away, standing at the altar with a stranger, not the woman who loved him with every fiber of her being.

"Do you, Sue Evan, take Dylan Blake to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do," I whispered, the words a fragile vow that I intended to keep.

"And do you, Dylan Blake, take Sue Evan to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

There was a pause—a heartbeat, a breath, a moment stretched into eternity—before Dylan finally said, "I do."

The ceremony continued, a beautiful facade that hid the ugly truth. Dylan didn't love me. He married me out of obligation, a last wish from his dying parents. I was nothing but a pawn in the grand scheme of his life.

As we turned to face the crowd, our hands barely touching, I saw her. Cale Smith. The woman who held Dylan's attention in a way I never could. Her smirk was a silent challenge, a reminder of the battle I was losing.

The reception was a blur of congratulations and well-wishes, but all I could feel was the hollowness of the ring on my finger. It was a shackle, not a symbol of love.

That night, as I lay in the bed I now shared with Dylan, I made a silent promise to myself. I would win his heart, no matter what it took. I would be the wife he needed, the partner he deserved.

But as I watched him sleep, his face void of the hatred he showed in the daylight, I couldn't help but wonder if love was enough to melt a heart of stone.

The silence of the night was broken only by the soft ticking of the clock. Dylan's breathing was even, a sign of the deep sleep he was in. I lay there, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

It was our wedding night, yet the distance between us could have spanned oceans. I turned to my side, watching the moonlight dance across his features. He looked peaceful, almost approachable. But I knew better.

The sound of my own heartbeat seemed too loud in the quiet room. I wanted to reach out, to close the gap with a simple touch, but fear held me back. What if he pushed me away? What if that touch shattered the fragile world I had built around us?

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, the room was bathed in the soft glow of dawn. Dylan was no longer beside me. The space where he had been was cold, untouched by the morning light.

I rose, wrapping a robe around myself, and walked to the window. The estate stretched out before me, its beauty mocking the turmoil inside my heart. I had married a man who saw me as nothing more than a necessity, a checkbox on the list of his parents' dying wishes.

The door opened, and Dylan walked in. He didn't notice me at first, busy with his own thoughts. When his gaze finally met mine, there was a flicker of something—surprise, perhaps, or annoyance.

"Good morning," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dylan merely nodded, his attention already on the phone in his hand. "I have to go to the office," he said, his words clipped and formal.

"But it's our first day as husband and wife," I protested, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a crack in his armor. "Sue," he began, his voice softening, "this marriage… it's not what you think. It's not what I wanted."

"But it's what we have," I replied, my resolve strengthening. "I'm willing to make it work if you are."

Dylan's phone buzzed, breaking the moment. He glanced at it and then back at me. "We'll talk about this later," he said, and just like that, he was gone.

I was left standing alone, the echoes of our conversation ringing in my ears. I had so many questions, so much I wanted to say, but they would have to wait. For now, I had to prepare for the battle ahead. I had to fight for my marriage, for Dylan's love, even if it meant going up against Cale Smith.

And so, with a deep breath, I began my day, not as a blushing bride, but as a warrior in a war of hearts.

The morning light spilled into the room, casting a golden glow on everything it touched. I stood by the window long after Dylan had left, lost in thought. The estate was waking up, the staff moving about their duties, oblivious to the turmoil of the lady of the house.

My heart ached with a loneliness that seemed to deepen with each passing moment. I had imagined my wedding night to be filled with love and tenderness, not the cold, empty silence that now enveloped me.

I decided to take a walk in the gardens, hoping the fresh air would clear my mind. The roses were in full bloom, their fragrance a bittersweet reminder of the bouquet I had held just yesterday.

"Sue?" a voice called out, breaking the silence. I turned to see George Aaron, Dylan's rival and my unexpected ally. His concern was evident in his eyes.

"George, what are you doing here?" I asked, surprised to see him.

He walked towards me, his hands in his pockets. "I heard about the wedding. I wanted to see how you were holding up," he said.

I forced a smile, not wanting to burden him with my troubles. "I'm fine, George. It's just been a long couple of days."

He didn't look convinced. "You don't have to pretend with me, Sue. I've known you long enough to see when you're hurting."

His words were kind, and I felt my resolve waver. "It's just… I thought marriage would be different. I thought Dylan would be different," I confessed.

George's expression softened. "You deserve someone who sees you for the incredible woman you are, Sue. Someone who loves you unconditionally."

I looked away, feeling the sting of tears. "I made a vow, George. I can't just walk away from that."

"Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is to choose happiness," he said gently.

We stood there for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Then, without another word, he turned and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again.

As I walked back to the house, I knew one thing for certain. I couldn't give up on Dylan, not yet. I had to fight for our marriage, even if it meant going up against the world.

But as I entered the house, I was met with a sight that chilled me to the bone. Cale Smith, standing in the foyer, a triumphant smile on her face.

"Sue, darling," she cooed, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I was just looking for you. Dylan has been asking for you."

My heart raced as I faced her. "Really? And what did you tell him?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Cale's smile widened. "Oh, just that his lovely wife was out enjoying the morning with George Aaron. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear it."

I felt the anger rise within me, but I pushed it down. "Thank you, Cale. I'll go see him now," I said, my voice calm.

As I walked past her, I could feel her eyes on my back, her presence like a dark cloud over the house. But I wouldn't let her see my fear. I was Sue Evan Blake, and I was stronger than she knew.