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Chapter Two

I couldn't believe what I had just witnessed. The man I was forced to marry, the one who had vowed to love and cherish me, was caught in a passionate embrace with another woman. The dressing room had become a secret place for the groom, my groom and his mistress.

I knew I was not supposed to feel anything because I do not love him, right? But why is it that it hurts? Because it hurts so much that I can't breathe.

Why would mom persuade me into this marriage and then lure me to this room to see Leila and him making out in the dresser? On our wedding day which has not even passed?

Maybe mom had an explanation? Maybe she did not know he was with Leila?

I could not bear to see this anymore. I felt like I was going to throw up. I hurriedly closed the door behind me and walked the hell out of there. I really needed somewhere else to be. Somewhere where I could be alone. Somewhere where I could cry my heart and frustration out without anyone seeing.

As I turned to leave, my heels clicked on the marble floor, a sound that seemed to echo through the silence. I didn't look back, could not bear to see the guilt etched on Tristan's face, if he was even remorseful of what he did. My heart raced with anger and hurt, my mind reeling with thoughts of betrayal.

But Marcus, oblivious to my identity, mistook my footsteps for someone else's. He pulled away from Sophia, his eyes narrowing as he followed the sound. I quickened my pace, as I noticed his footsteps clicking behind me, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't want to confront him, hell, I do not even intend on facing him, not yet.

And it is funny because I am the one hiding my face when he was the one that cheated.

As I entered the grand hall, I felt a hand grasp my arm, spinning me around. Tristan's eyes locked onto mine, a mixture of surprise and guilt flickered across his face. I could see the wheels turning in his mind, wondering how I had discovered his secret.

My dad had told me that he was a rich man, whose identity was mysterious. They had not told me his identity, but at this moment, fuck it. I don't care.

My mind was thinking irrationally. What I should do, what I should not. I gazed into his eyes which were staring back at me. He did not even attempt to explain or apologise. He just stood with those cold eyes of his, burning holes into mine.

With a fierce determination, I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. The sound echoed through the hall, a collective gasp from the guests. Tristan's eyes widened, his icy glare replaced with anger.

Honestly, I could not care less. About his anger or the guests around. But that was a mistake I made. I should have cared more. Because what I didn't know was that Mr Tristan Detar never, NEVER gets embarrassed.

I guess lessons are learned after mistakes are made.

"How dare you!" I hissed, my voice low but venomous. "You cheat on me on our wedding day?"

"Be careful how you speak to me, Natalie Beckham," he growled lowly.

But then, a sly smile spread across my face. I leaned in, my eyes locked on Leila, who watched by the side her arms crossed, with a tiny hint of smirk on her face. Then the smirk turned into one of a little bit of confusion when she noticed me smiling at her.

My sister who had looked up to me was now the one looking down at me with malice and hate in her face. If he was her man, she would have fought for him and married him instead!

"You know what? Maybe," I whispered, my voice dripping with malice, "I'll just join in on the fun."

With a wicked grin, I pressed my lips to Tristan's, my eyes never leaving Leila's face. The room fell silent, the few guests, thinking everything was alright between us, clapped their hands on support.

As I pulled away, Tristan's eyes met mine, confusion and mostly anger etched on his face. I could not be more glad that at least, I was not the only one who was all riled up today.

I turned and walked away, leaving the two of them to wonder what I had planned next. The game had only just begun, and I was ready to play.

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