Chapter 1
The synthetic chill of the morning air seemed to slice right through Elena’s lightweight dress as she stood frozen in the center of the doorway. Her pulse hammered against her eardrums like a frantic drumbeat while she stared at the silent, rhythmic rise and fall of Julian’s chest.
He was breathing far too deliberately for someone locked in a deep slumber, his eyelids twitching with poorly concealed anxiety. Victoria, on the other hand, had already rolled back onto her side, her breathing heavy and completely calculated to project an aura of innocent exhaustion.
Elena forced her trembling legs to move backward, retreating silently into the dimly lit hallway before her erratic breathing could betray her presence. The reddish-brown stain on the center of the white satin sheet burned behind her eyelids like a branding iron of pure terror.
She hurried down the staircase, her bare feet padding softly against the expensive hardwood steps that felt suddenly foreign and menacing. The magnificent wedding reception decorations from just hours before—white roses, glowing fairy lights, and glittering crystal—now looked like a hollow stage set for a nightmare.
Reaching the quiet safety of the guest bathroom downstairs, Elena locked the heavy wooden door and pressed her back against it. Sinking slowly to the cold tile floor, she covered her mouth with both hands to stifle the sudden, violent sob tearing at her throat.
How had her fairy-tale wedding devolved into this psychological horror story before the sun had even finished rising over the suburban horizon? Only yesterday, she had walked down the aisle believing she was marrying a kind, independent man who loved her unconditionally.
Now, sitting on a cold bathroom floor on the first morning of her marriage, she realized she was sharing a roof with strangers wearing human masks. Her phone buzzed quietly against the linoleum, startling her so violently that her breath caught in her lungs.
She snatched the device off the floor, seeing a notification pop up from her maid of honor, Chloe, asking how the first night of marriage treated her. Elena's fingers hovered over the keyboard, her mind racing as she debated whether to tell the truth or invent a harmless lie.
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Writing back that everything was wonderful felt like swallowing shards of jagged glass, but warning Chloe felt even more dangerous right now. Instead, she locked the screen without replying, knowing that bringing her friends into this immediate danger might put them in Victoria's crosshairs.
She stood up on shaky legs and splashed freezing water over her face, staring at her pale reflection in the gilded vanity mirror. Her dark hair was still half-pinned with delicate wedding pearls that suddenly felt heavy and suffocating like a crown of thorns.
