Sienna Monroe had imagined her wedding day a thousand times. This wasn’t one of them.

No flowers, no laughter, no love. Just a cold, empty ballroom and a man who looked at her like she was his greatest mistake.

Adrian Sinclair stood beside her, towering and intimidating in his tailored black suit. His sharp jaw clenched, his gray eyes burning with barely restrained fury as the officiant spoke the words that sealed their fate.

"Do you, Adrian Sinclair, take Sienna Monroe to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Silence.

A suffocating silence that stretched long enough for the tension to coil tight in Sienna’s chest.

Her fingers curled into her palm, nails digging into her skin. She could feel the eyes of the few attendees boring into them—Adrian’s business associates, his cold-hearted mother, and her own trembling brother, Liam, sitting in a wheelchair at the front row.

Adrian didn’t want this marriage. Neither did she.

But when her brother’s medical bills stacked up, and when Adrian needed a wife to secure his inheritance, an iron-clad contract forced their hands.

Finally, Adrian exhaled sharply through his nose. Then, with a voice laced with venom, he muttered, "I do."

The officiant turned to her. "And do you, Sienna Monroe, take Adrian Sinclair as your lawfully wedded husband?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears. She lifted her chin, refusing to show weakness.

"I do."

The words barely left her lips before Adrian’s hand gripped her wrist—tight, almost painful. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear.

"Enjoy this while it lasts, sweetheart," he whispered, voice dripping with menace. "Because I will make your life a living hell."

A chill ran down Sienna’s spine, but she met his gaze, unflinching.

"We’ll see who breaks first, Mr. Sinclair."

The priest cleared his throat awkwardly. "You may now kiss the bride."

Adrian’s lips curled into a smirk. Then, before she could react, his hand grabbed her waist and pulled her in—his mouth crashing onto hers in a kiss that wasn’t sweet, wasn’t tender.

It was punishment. A message. A warning.

And Sienna?

She kissed him back, digging her nails into his shoulder—silent proof that she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Because if Adrian Sinclair wanted a war…

She was ready to give him one.

How’s this for a gripping first chapter? Let me know if you want to tweak anything!

Sienna stood frozen in place, the lingering heat of Adrian’s punishing kiss still burning on her lips. The weight of the moment settled heavily on her chest as she watched him stride away, his broad shoulders stiff with controlled fury.

He didn’t offer her his arm.

Didn’t glance back.

Didn’t pretend for even a second that this was more than a transaction.

The whispers began the moment he walked off the altar, murmurs sweeping through the elite guests like wildfire.

"Did you see how he kissed her?"

"No love, only dominance. God, it was almost cruel."

"She’s nothing but an opportunist. Adrian knows it."

Sienna clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms as she forced her expression into an icy mask.

Let them talk.

She had spent too many years caring about what people thought, bending to their judgment, allowing their words to shape her self-worth. Not anymore.

Her eyes darted toward Liam.

He sat in his wheelchair near the front row, his frail hands gripping the wheels tightly, his dark brown eyes brimming with concern. The way he looked at her—as if he wanted to take her hand and pull her out of this nightmare—made something sharp twist inside her.

This is for him, she reminded herself.

Adrian could despise her. His mother could glare at her like she was filth. The entire room could think she was nothing more than a gold-digger, a woman who tricked a billionaire into marriage.

None of it mattered.

Only Liam mattered.

The moment the ceremony was declared over, the crowd erupted into polite applause—empty and insincere.

A butler approached her, his expression neutral. "Mr. Sinclair requests that you follow him to the reception hall," he said, voice devoid of warmth.

Not your husband requests you follow him. Not even Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair.

Just Mr. Sinclair.

Sienna swallowed down the bitter taste in her mouth and squared her shoulders. She was Mrs. Sinclair now, whether Adrian liked it or not.

Lifting her gown slightly, she descended the steps of the altar, each step measured, each breath steady. If Adrian was going to treat her like she was beneath him, she would make sure she carried herself like a queen.

The doors to the grand reception hall were flung open, revealing a space even more extravagant than the ballroom. A massive chandelier sparkled above a long, beautifully set dining table filled with the most powerful figures in the business world. A classical quartet played softly in the corner, the melody delicate yet suffocating.

And at the far end of the room stood Adrian.

His jacket was unbuttoned now, his tie slightly loosened as he poured himself a drink at the bar. His movements were leisurely, calculated. As if this entire event was nothing more than an inconvenient business meeting rather than his own wedding reception.

The moment she stepped inside, his gaze snapped to hers.

Something flickered in his stormy gray eyes—something dark and unreadable—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

He lifted his glass to his lips, taking a slow sip. Ignoring her.

The room fell into an awkward hush as she made her way toward him. The tension was unbearable, the weight of every watchful eye pressing down on her like a physical force.

Still, she didn’t falter.

She reached his side, her voice smooth when she spoke. "You’re not even going to pretend for the cameras?"

A smirk tugged at Adrian’s lips as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. "What’s the point?" He turned slightly, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "They all know what you are."

Her stomach tightened, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, she tilted her head, offering him a saccharine smile. "And what exactly am I, darling husband?"

His smirk faded, replaced by something colder. "A woman who sold herself to the highest bidder."

Sienna’s breath hitched, but she kept her mask in place. She leaned in slightly, just enough that to anyone watching, it would look like an intimate conversation between newlyweds.

"Funny," she murmured, her voice light. "I was about to say the same thing about you."

Adrian’s fingers tightened around his glass, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his expression.

Before he could respond, a voice interrupted.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair," a woman’s smooth voice cut in. "A pleasure, as always."

Sienna turned just in time to see a breathtakingly beautiful woman approach—blonde, striking, with piercing blue eyes that sparkled with cruel amusement.

Adrian’s ex-fiancée.

Of course.

The woman smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "It’s so lovely to see you both." She extended a delicate hand toward Sienna, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I must say, you look absolutely… radiant, dear."

The condescension was as sharp as a blade.

Sienna ignored the veiled insult and clasped the woman’s hand in return, squeezing just a little too tightly. "How sweet of you, though I can’t imagine you mean that sincerely."

A small flicker of amusement crossed the woman’s face, but before she could respond, Adrian set his glass down with an audible clink.

"Enough," he said, his voice low, authoritative.

Both women turned to him.

His eyes flickered to Sienna’s for the briefest second before he extended a hand—an invitation, a demand.

"Let’s dance," he said.

It wasn’t a request.

Sienna hesitated for only a fraction of a second before slipping her hand into his.

Adrian led her toward the center of the room where a slow waltz had begun to play. He pulled her in close, his grip firm around her waist, his other hand lacing through hers.

The moment their bodies aligned, his lips brushed her ear.

"You wanted this marriage?" he murmured darkly. "You wanted to play pretend?"

His grip on her waist tightened slightly, just enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"Then smile for the cameras, sweetheart," he whispered. "Because this is only the beginning."

Sienna forced her lips into a soft, graceful smile.

But inside?

She knew one thing for certain.

She and Adrian Sinclair weren’t just husband and wife.

They were officially at war.