0005 Elodie’s POV “Right on time.
I appreciate punctuality, Elodie.” Vincent gestured at the pale, distant, broken-looking handsome man beside him.
“Meet your husband-to-be, Logan Lockwood.” I wanted to spit in his face.
Instead, I just stood there, clutching the hem of my dress like it was the only thing keeping me upright.
The officiant cleared her throat nervously.
“Shall we begin?” Vincent checked his watch and nodded curtly.
“Yes.
Let’s get this done.
I have a meeting at one.” He placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder, guiding him toward the front of the room with the efficiency of someone herding cattle.
“Come on, brother.
Time to meet your bride.” Logan moved mechanically, still not looking up.
He didn’t acknowledge my presence at all.
My heart was pounding so hard I felt dizzy.
The officiant gestured for us to take our positions in front of her desk.
I moved forward on numb legs, and Logan was positioned beside me.
Up close, he looked worse.
His hands weren’t just trembling—they were shaking, like he was fighting to control his own body.
His breathing was shallow, rapid.
Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool temperature of the room.
Vincent stood a few feet behind us, checking his phone.
I could hear the impatient tap of his foot against the floor.
“We are gathered here today…” the officiant began, her voice rushed, like she wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
And then Logan started making sounds.
Small, distressed noises from the back of his throat.
His hands flew up to his chest, clutching at his shirt.
His breathing became even more rapid, panicked.
“I… No …” His voice was hoarse, barely audible.
“I can’t…
Please…” He started rocking slightly, his whole body tensing.
The sounds grew louder—gasping, whimpering.
It was like watching someone having a panic attack, or like an autistic meltdown, his body betraying him in ways he couldn’t control.
“I can’t breathe… I can’t…” His hands were now pulling at his collar, his face flushed despite the pallor.
I didn’t know what to do.
Should I help him?
Touch him?
Back away?
Vincent, standing behind us, let out a long, sharp exhale of pure frustration.
He checked his watch again, his jaw clenching.
“Jesus Christ,” Vincent muttered under his breath, loud enough for me to hear.
“Not now.
Not fucking now.” Logan’s breathing became more erratic.
He turned away from me, hunching over, making these horrible gasping sounds that made my chest tighten in sympathy.
His whole body was shaking now, trembling violently.
Vincent snapped his fingers at one of the security guards by the door.
“Luca.
Get him out of here.
Now.” The guard moved forward quickly, clearly having done this before.
He approached Logan carefully, speaking in low, soothing tones I couldn’t quite hear, and gently took his arm.
“No… no… I can’t…” Logan was saying, over and over, his voice breaking.
“I can’t… I can’t…” The guard led him toward one of the chairs against the wall, away from the altar.
Logan collapsed into the chair, his head dropping into his hands, his shoulders heaving.
Vincent ran a hand through his hair, looking at his brother with pure exasperation.
He pulled out his phone, checked something, then cursed under his breath.
“I don’t have time for this,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
He looked between Logan, still falling apart in the chair, and me standing uselessly at the altar.
The officiant was clutching her papers, clearly waiting for direction.
Vincent’s phone buzzed again — whoever was waiting for him was getting impatient.
“Right.” Vincent pocketed his phone and stepped forward, positioning himself beside me where Logan had been standing.
“We’re doing this now.” I stared at him.
“What?” “I’ll stand in for him.” Vincent’s tone was clipped, businesslike, impatient.
He wasn’t looking at me — he was looking at the officiant.
“We need to get this done.” “You can’t…” I started.
“I have a meeting in forty minutes across town,” Vincent cut me off, his voice hard.
“I don’t have time to reschedule this circus.
Logan wanted a wife.
You need your sister’s debt cleared.
I will help Logan marry you.” The officiant cleared her throat nervously.
“I…
technically, if the bride agrees to the substitution… ” “There.” Vincent checked his watch again.
“Clock’s ticking, Elodie.” I looked at the officiant, who looked terrified and I knew she definitely couldn’t help me with this tragic turnaround.
Vincent’s voice dropped lower, and for the first time, there was an edge of threat beneath the impatience.
“Your sister’s still in that hospital bed.
The debt’s still unpaid.
You can stand here wasting time, or we can get this done and she lives.
Your choice.” There it was.
The reminder.
Not even wrapped nicely this time—just a blunt instrument.
And I realized, once again, that I had no choice.
I never had a choice.
“Fine,” I whispered.
Vincent didn’t smile this time.
He just nodded and turned to the officiant.
“Let’s go.
Fast version.
I don’t need the poetry.” The officiant fumbled with her papers, clearly flustered.
“I… yes, of course.
Um.
Do you, Vincent Lockwood, take this woman…” “I do,” Vincent said immediately, before she’d even finished the sentence.
The officiant blinked.
“I… you have to let me finish…” “Fine.
Finish.” Vincent’s tone was clipped.
“But quickly.” The woman rushed through the rest of the vows, stumbling over words, clearly terrified.
When she turned to me, her voice was shaking.
“And do you, Elodie Stonewall, take this man…” “She does,” Vincent said.
“I have to let her answer…” the officiant protested weakly.
Vincent looked at me, his expression hard and impatient.
“Do you?” What was I supposed to say?
With Vincent’s unspoken threats hanging in the air and Vicky in a hospital bed with a bullet wound?
“I do,” I whispered.
“Great.” Vincent turned back to the officiant.
“By the power vested in me by the state,” she said quickly, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” There was a pause.
An awkward, terrible pause where we all realized what was supposed to come next.
“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant whispered, like she was hoping no one would hear her.
Vincent looked at me properly for the first time since stepping into Logan’s place.
Before I could brace myself, his hand slid around my waist.
A startled gasp escaped me as he pulled me flush against him, leaving no space between our bodies.
And without hesitation he crushed his lips against mine.