Chapter 1: The Bride Who Was Never Meant To Be Loved
Enzo DeLuca had spent ten years waiting for revenge.
Ten years of watching his family name lose everything because of one man.
Richard Whitcomb.
A man who smiled in public, shook hands with powerful people, and secretly destroyed anyone who stood in his way.
Including Enzo’s older brother.
The night his brother died, Enzo promised himself that Richard Whitcomb would pay.
And when Richard finally came to him years later, desperate and afraid, Enzo knew exactly what price he wanted.
His daughter.
Harper Whitcomb.
The beautiful heiress everyone believed had lived a perfect life.
A woman who had never known struggle.
A woman who had everything.
Or at least, that was what Enzo believed.
“You want forgiveness?” Enzo said coldly during their negotiation.
Richard’s face turned pale.
“Your family took everything from mine.”
“I can repay the debt,” Richard whispered.
Enzo leaned back in his chair.
“How?”
Richard looked away.
Then he said the words that changed everything.
“Marry my daughter.”
The room became silent.
Enzo almost laughed.
He expected money.
Power.
Business deals.
But not this.
A marriage.
A punishment disguised as a wedding.
“Your daughter will live in my house,” Enzo said.
Richard nodded quickly.
“And she will carry your family’s shame.”
A week later, Harper Whitcomb walked into the DeLuca mansion wearing a wedding dress.
Not as a bride.
As a sacrifice.
The entire ceremony felt like a business transaction.
No smiles.
No happiness.
No love.
Only cameras, powerful families, and silent threats hidden behind polite conversations.
Harper stood beside Enzo, her fingers trembling as she held the bouquet.
Everyone saw a wealthy heiress.
But Enzo noticed something strange.
She never looked angry.
She never complained.
She never tried to escape.
She looked like someone who had already lost.
That night, inside the mansion’s private suite, Enzo finally confronted her.
“You should know something, Harper.”
She slowly looked at him.
“This marriage means nothing to me.”
Her eyes lowered.
“I know.”
The answer surprised him.
“You know?”
She nodded.
“I know you didn’t marry me because you wanted me.”
For the first time, Enzo saw something beyond fear.
Sadness.
“You hate me because of my father.”
Enzo stepped closer.
“Yes.”
Harper swallowed.
“Then hate me if you need to.”
Her voice was quiet.
“But please understand one thing…”
She looked directly into his eyes.
“I am not my father.”
Those words should have meant nothing.
But something about the way she said them bothered him.
Then Harper turned around, trying to remove her wedding dress.
Her hands shook.
The buttons at her back were impossible to reach.
Enzo moved closer.
Immediately, she froze.
Her entire body reacted like she expected him to hurt her.
Not like a woman afraid of an enemy.
Like someone afraid of someone she already knew.
Enzo stopped.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Harper said nothing.
And for the first time in years…
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Enzo DeLuca felt something stronger than revenge.
Doubt.
