Chapter 10 - ONLY IF YOU CHOOSE ME
Our wedding had forty-two guests.
Not three hundred.
No reporters.
No business partners invited because they might be useful.
No red dresses.
Vanessa declined politely.
Correct choice.
Evelyn Stone attended.
Rachel attended.
Nico stood beside Lucian.
My employees occupied half the left side.
Lucian’s legal compliance monitor somehow received an invitation from Rachel.
Lucian considered that hostile.
The ceremony took place in the garden behind a small historic inn outside Charleston.
Not Magnolia Cathedral.
I refused.
Flowers everywhere.
White roses.
This time none bent inside my hands.
As I waited before walking down the aisle, I thought about the woman I had been eighteen months earlier.
White dress.
Three hundred witnesses.
A man standing in front of me who had already dismantled parts of my life.
And me still wondering how to save the wedding.
That was the strangest part.
Even seconds after Adrian said he never loved me, some part of me had wanted him to take it back.
Because losing him felt worse than losing myself.
I did not hate that woman anymore.
She simply had not understood yet.
The music began.
I walked alone.
My father was gone.
I could have asked someone else to give me away.
I didn’t.
Nobody was giving me anywhere.
Lucian waited.
Black suit.
No tie.
Of course.
He looked at me with the expression he usually reserved for threats and miracles.
When I reached him, he held out his hand.
Then stopped before touching me.
“May I?”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
The officiant spoke.
I barely heard him.
Promises.
Partnership.
Respect.
Then came vows.
Lucian went first.
“Elena.”
He looked nervous again.
I enjoyed that deeply.
“The first time I offered you my hand, I did it because three hundred people were watching a man try to break you.”
His voice remained steady.
“I thought I was protecting you.”
A pause.
“You spent the next eighteen months teaching me that standing beside someone is not the same as deciding for them.”
My eyes filled.
“You made me answer questions no one else dared ask.”
A few guests laughed.
Lucian glanced toward Rachel.
“Repeatedly.”
More laughter.
“You cost me money.”
I whispered:
“Lots.”
“An obscene amount.”
The officiant tried not to smile.
Then Lucian became serious.
“You also gave me something power never did.”
He looked directly at me.
“A life where being feared is not the most important thing about me.”
I swallowed.
Lucian reached for my hand.
Then stopped.
The same gesture from the church.
Different world.
“Only if you choose me.”
My voice broke slightly.
“I choose you.”
When it was my turn, I looked at him.
“The first time you said, ‘Then she’s mine,’ I wanted to hit you.”
The guests laughed.
Lucian nodded.
“Reasonable.”
“I thought I had escaped one arrogant man only to be collected by another.”
“Also reasonable.”
“But you surprised me.”
I squeezed his hand.
“Not because you rescued me.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
I smiled.
“That became clear very quickly.”
More laughter.
“You surprised me because every time I said no, eventually you learned to hear it.”
His eyes softened.
“And when I said yes, you learned not to treat it like permanent permission.”
The garden became quiet.
“That is why I love you.”
I looked toward the guests.
“At my first wedding, humiliation taught me that public promises mean nothing if private choices contradict them.”
Then back at Lucian.
“So I won’t promise perfection.”
“Good.”
“I promise honesty.”
His smile disappeared into something softer.
“I promise questions.”
He groaned.
The guests laughed.
“And I promise that if either of us starts acting like Camille Vale…”
“Divorce?”
“Immediate audit.”
Even Lucian laughed.
The officiant pronounced us husband and wife.
Lucian looked at me.
“May I kiss my wife?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You’re learning.”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
He kissed me.
No cameras except the photographer we hired.
No scandal.
No trap.
No nightmare.
Just a choice.
At the reception, Rachel handed Lucian an envelope.
He frowned.
“What is this?”
“Wedding gift.”
He opened it.
Annual independent compliance renewal.
I nearly fell out of my chair laughing.
Lucian stared at me.
“You knew.”
“No.”
I definitely knew.
“Elena.”
“Smile.”
He narrowed his eyes.
I repeated the words he had whispered to me eighteen months earlier.
“Their nightmare just started.”
He laughed.
Later, after everyone left, Lucian and I stood alone beneath the lights.
He loosened his collar.
“You realize this entire relationship began because another man publicly abandoned you.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“It began because he did.”
“That created the meeting.”
“What created the relationship?”
I thought.
“You asking before the second kiss.”
He frowned.
“That late?”
“Yes.”
“Harsh.”
“Accurate.”
We walked toward the hotel.
His hand found mine.
I looked at our fingers.
At the ring.
At him.
Once, I thought the most humiliating moment of my life was Adrian Vale saying he never loved me.
I was wrong.
Humiliation passes.
Truth remains.
Adrian’s cruelty forced me to see how thoroughly I had surrendered my choices to a life someone else designed.
Camille’s scheme destroyed my illusion that intelligence made me immune to manipulation.
Vanessa reminded me that women do not become enemies merely because the same dishonest man uses both of them.
And Lucian—
Lucian taught me something I never expected to learn from a man whose reputation had been built on fear.
Protection without choice is simply another cage.
Love without respect is possession.
Power without accountability eventually eats the person holding it.
That day at the altar, Lucian said:
Then she’s mine.
He was wrong.
I was never his.
I was never Adrian’s.
I was never the Vales’ useful accountant.
I was never the abandoned bride everyone photographed.
I was Elena Mercer.
And the only reason I stood beside Lucian now was because every morning, every argument and every difficult decision gave me another chance to choose.
As we reached the hotel entrance, Lucian opened the door.
I stopped.
“What?”
He looked suspicious.
“You have that accountant face.”
“What face?”
“The one that means I’m about to lose money.”
I smiled.
“Tomorrow we discuss the hotel subsidiary in Delaware.”
He closed his eyes.
“We’re on our honeymoon.”
“Fraud does not take vacations.”
“There is no fraud.”
“Then the conversation will be short.”
He stared at me.
Then laughed.
“God help me.”
I slipped my hand into his.
“No.”
I kissed his cheek.
“You chose this.”
May you like
And together, we walked inside.
THE END
