Episode 5
Aria stood in front of the mirror, barely breathing.
She looked like someone else — a stranger in a stunning black gown that hugged her body like liquid shadows, the deep neckline adorned with delicate lace, her neck wrapped in a choker made of tiny obsidian stones. Her hair was swept into an elegant updo, strands framing her face just enough to soften her sharp cheekbones. Her lips were painted wine-red, her eyes smoldering behind a lacy black mask.
She was no longer Aria Elwood, the girl who worked two part-time jobs to pay for her brother's treatment.
Tonight, she was Mrs. Lucien Blackwood — the Devil's wife.
"Perfect," Clara said behind her, adjusting the fall of her dress. "Do not speak unless spoken to. Don't fidget. Keep your chin up and remember — you're a queen tonight. Do not let them smell fear."
Aria gave a small nod.
She wasn't ready.
But she had no choice.
The limo ride was silent.
Lucien sat beside her, unreadable in his black three-piece suit. He wore a sleek black mask as well — but it only made him more terrifyingly handsome, like a predator dressed for a masquerade hunt.
He hadn't complimented her. Hadn't even looked at her.
But when she shifted slightly and her bare shoulder brushed his sleeve, he spoke.
"You'll keep your hand in mine tonight. Smile only when I do. Don't drink. Don't wander."
"Yes… Lucien."
His jaw flexed.
She couldn't tell if it was annoyance or approval.
The car stopped in front of the grand entrance of the Ainsworth Estate, where the annual high-society charity gala was being held. Cameras flashed. Reporters swarmed. The city's elite stood waiting — hungry to feast on gossip, power, and weakness.
Lucien stepped out first.
Then, he extended a hand toward her.
Aria placed her gloved hand in his.
The world stopped.
The cameras clicked wildly as the Devil CEO and his mysterious new wife emerged. Gasps rippled through the crowd. No one had seen her before. No one knew her name.
And Lucien — cold, ruthless Lucien — had married her?
They walked the red carpet together.
He didn't smile, but he didn't let go of her hand either.
Inside, the ballroom shimmered with light. Gold chandeliers, crystal decor, violins playing in the background. Everyone was masked, everyone was watching.
A woman with red lips and diamond earrings stepped toward them.
"Lucien," she purred. "And this must be… your wife."
Lucien nodded once. "Aria."
Aria gave a polite nod. "It's a pleasure."
The woman's smile didn't reach her eyes. "I must admit, you're quite the surprise. We all expected Lucien to marry… someone else."
Lucien's grip on Aria's hand tightened slightly.
"Perhaps that's why I chose her," he said. "She wasn't expected."
The woman chuckled and slinked away.
Aria took a shaky breath. "She doesn't like me."
Lucien leaned close to her ear. "They all won't. Get used to it."
The night wore on like a test.
Aria was introduced to mayors, billionaires, foreign diplomats. She smiled when required, nodded when spoken to, and clung to Lucien's side like a shadow.
But beneath her calm exterior, she was drowning.
Every woman in the room looked like she belonged in a palace. Every man looked at her like she was a mystery to be solved — or a mistake to be erased.
At one point, Lucien walked away to speak with the mayor.
Aria stood alone near a marble pillar, pretending to sip sparkling water.
That's when a man approached her.
Tall. Silver hair. Piercing green eyes behind a golden mask.
"You're braver than you look," he said smoothly.
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Being married to Lucien Blackwood. Most women wouldn't dare."
She straightened. "Most women don't need to."
He chuckled. "Touché. You're not what I expected."
"And you are?"
"Adrian Vale. Family friend. Occasional enemy. Always curious."
"About me?"
"About how long you'll last."
Aria's blood ran cold.
"I don't play games, Mr. Vale."
"Oh, but darling…" he leaned closer. "You married the king of them."
Before she could respond, Lucien returned.
His eyes landed on Adrian like a blade.
"Adrian," he said coldly.
"Lucien," Adrian replied with a sly smile. "Lovely wife you have."
Lucien slid an arm around Aria's waist. "Yes. And she's taken."
Adrian winked at her. "Pity."
He vanished into the crowd.
Lucien didn't say a word as he led her away, his grip firm.
But when they were alone near the garden entrance, he turned to her.
"Don't talk to him again."
Aria frowned. "He approached me."
"You should've walked away."
"You left me alone."
He stepped closer. "Are you accusing me?"
"No," she whispered. "I'm just saying—"
"Don't just say. Just obey."
Her breath caught.
The soft music drifted from inside, but it felt like another world. Out here, in the shadows of the garden, Lucien was no longer a polished billionaire.
He was a storm.
A beautiful, dangerous storm.
"You're mine, Aria," he said, his voice low. "And if anyone touches what's mine, they bleed."
Aria swallowed hard. "Is that why you married me? To claim something no one else can?"
His eyes darkened. "Exactly."
She turned her face away. "That's not love."
"I never promised love."
He brushed a hand down her arm.
"But I did promise power. Safety. Wealth. Your family will never suffer again. And all I ask in return…"
He leaned in.
"…is your obedience."
Aria looked up into his eyes.
"I'm not a doll."
"No," he murmured. "You're far more interesting."
He offered his arm again.
"Let's dance. The wolves are watching."
She took his arm silently, stepping back into the ballroom like a queen carved from ice.
But inside?
Inside she was cracking.
💔 To be continued…
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