Andrew stood rigidly at the altar, watching Eva as she slowly made her way toward him. His mind raced with a mixture of fury and bitterness. Jessica’s betrayal was a fresh wound, and every moment that passed only deepened the cut. How could she have done this to him? To his family? To the prestige of the King name? And now here he was, forced to marry her sister—someone he barely knew, someone he already assumed would be just as deceitful.

His eyes darkened as he shifted all the resentment he felt for Jessica onto Eva. "She’s just like her sister," he thought to himself. "Another opportunist."

But as he looked closer, he noticed Matthew Foster standing at the end of the aisle, his expression cold but his eyes filled with a deep, almost desperate concern for his daughter. Andrew scoffed internally at the sight of it, wondering what game Matthew was playing. "Please," Andrew mused darkly. "As if this entire family isn’t complicit in Jessica’s schemes."

When Matthew and Eva finally reached him, Matthew looked up at Andrew, his usually stoic face softening just slightly. "Please take care of my Angel," he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with pleading.

Andrew remained silent, his lips pressed into a hard line. "Your Angel?" he thought bitterly. "You mean your pawn."

He took Eva’s trembling hand, feeling the shake in her fingers. She was visibly nervous, more so than he expected. Andrew’s gaze drifted up to her face, but the veil shielded her expression from him. Still, the way her body trembled next to him spoke volumes. He didn’t need to see her face to know she was afraid.

"Good," he thought. "She should be."

The priest began the ceremony, his voice echoing through the quiet hall.

"Do you, Andrew King, take Eva Foster to be your wife? Do you promise to be true to her in good times and bad, in sickness and health, and to love and honor her all the days of your lives together?"

Andrew barely hesitated. "I do," he said curtly, his voice cold and devoid of any warmth.

He glanced sideways at Eva, her small frame trembling beside him. The priest turned to her.

"Do you, Eva Foster, take Andrew King to be your husband? Do you promise to be true to him in good times and bad, in sickness and health, and to love and honor him all the days of your lives together?"

Eva’s voice was a whisper, barely audible. "I... I do," she stammered, her words shaky, as though each one took every ounce of strength she had.

Andrew’s jaw clenched as he heard her weak response. "Pathetic," he thought. He wondered if she even had a backbone or if she was as spineless as Jessica, willing to do anything for money and status.

With the vows exchanged, the priest smiled and announced, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Andrew turned toward Eva, his stomach churning with a mix of frustration and something else he couldn’t quite place. He lifted the veil slowly, revealing her face. His breath caught for a brief moment when he saw her up close—her cheeks were red and slightly swollen, clearly the result of being slapped, and her eyes were tinged with the redness of someone who had been crying for hours.

A strange sensation washed over him as he stared at her. For a moment, he wondered what had happened to her. Why was she crying? Who had hit her? But just as quickly as the concern surfaced, Andrew shoved it down, burying it beneath his resentment. "Why should I care?" he told himself. "She’s just as bad as her sister."

Without warning, he cupped her face roughly with one hand, pulling her close while his other hand gripped her waist possessively. He leaned in, pressing his lips hard against hers in a kiss that was as much a show of control as it was a fulfillment of the ceremony.

But as he kissed her, he felt her body stiffen against his. Eva didn’t kiss him back. She remained utterly still, her lips cold and unresponsive beneath his. For some reason, the lack of reaction only fueled his frustration, and he quickly ended the kiss, stepping back and glaring at her.

Eva lowered her gaze, her eyes filling with unshed tears. Andrew scowled, trying to convince himself that he didn’t care. "This is what you wanted, isn’t it?" he thought bitterly, though he wasn’t sure whether he was speaking to Jessica in his mind or to Eva.

The guests clapped politely, oblivious to the tension between the newlyweds. To everyone else, it looked like a picture-perfect moment, a union between two powerful families. But to Eva and Andrew, it felt like the beginning of a nightmare.

As they turned to walk back down the aisle together, Andrew kept his grip firm on her waist, his fingers digging slightly into her skin. Eva winced but said nothing. Her mind raced, filled with the weight of the sacrifice she had just made, all to protect her father.

Andrew’s thoughts, meanwhile, were filled with dark promises. He would make sure Eva regretted this. He would show her exactly what kind of life she had married into.

As they reached the doors at the end of the aisle, Andrew leaned down and whispered harshly into her ear, his voice laced with venom. "This isn’t over. You’ll pay for everything your sister did."

Eva’s heart sank even further, the reality of her situation crashing down on her all over again. She had known this marriage was going to be difficult, but now, standing next to Andrew, she realized just how cruel it was going to be.

The reception was a blur of forced smiles and fake pleasantries. Andrew barely spoke to her, and when he did, his words were sharp and laced with bitterness. Eva, for her part, tried her best to endure it, to keep up the appearance of a happy bride, but inside, she felt like she was falling apart.

As the evening wore on, Andrew disappeared to speak with some guests, leaving Eva standing alone by the grand table. She glanced around the room, feeling completely out of place. Her heart ached as she spotted her father and sisters across the hall, Mia looking at her with pity while Matthew stared down at his feet, guilt written all over his face.

Eva took a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing herself to get through the night. "This is my life now," she thought. "I have to endure this."

But as much as she tried to convince herself she could handle it, deep down, she knew this was just the beginning of a life she had never wanted. A life filled with resentment, anger, and betrayal.

And as Andrew’s cold words echoed in her mind, she wondered how long she would be able to endure it.