My Dangerous Fiance

The chandelier in the Walkers' villa swayed, making the room spin. Each crystal pendant cast a piercing light, much like my sister Vivian Walker's ostentatious diamond ring. Tomorrow is her wedding. The living room was packed with guests, all raising their glasses and chatting animatedly, their conversations inevitably circling around the alliance between the Walkers and the Gabriels. I curled up on the corner sofa, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. Mother approached me, holding a glass of champagne; her red dress shimmered with a greasy sheen under the lights. Her smile was somewhat stiff, and in the fine lines at the corners of her eyes, I caught a flicker of panic I couldn't understand. "Luna, have a drink with Mom." She handed me the glass, her fingertips trembling slightly. I didn't think much of it; she must have been exhausted from preparing the wedding these past few days and probably just wanted someone to talk to. Tilting my head back to finish, the champagne bubbles tickled my throat. Soon, dizziness washed over me. The crystal chandelier before my eyes began to spin, and the guests' laughter sounded as if it were coming through a veil of water. I heard my brother Hunter Walker's voice; he was standing right behind me. "Sister, don't blame us." His voice trembled, deliberately held back. "How could Vivian marry Chase Gabriel, that ruthless monster?" I wanted to question him, but my lips felt glued shut. In a daze, two people grabbed my arms and dragged me upstairs. The cold sheets clung to my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. With a sharp click, the sound of the door lock turning was unnervingly clear. They actually locked me in the room. I lost track of time until the door was pushed open. Father walked in, hands clasped behind his back, standing by the bed, his leather shoes thudding heavily on the floor. He didn't even glance at me, merely tossing out a cold remark. "From tonight on, your engagement to the Chris' son is null and void." I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. "Vivian will marry him in your place." As he turned to leave, the hem of his coat brushed the bedside table, knocking over a photo frame. It was a picture of Jack Chris and me, smiling brightly on the carousel at the amusement park. Jack Chris, the son of the Chris. We grew up together, childhood sweethearts. It turned out even he silently consented to this farce. As the midnight bell tolled, the door was pushed open once more. The man entered, carrying a chill as if he had just stepped out of an ice cellar. He was tall, standing straight and firm like a pine, shadows enveloping me completely. His brows and eyes were as deep as a cold pool, his nose sharp and prominent, thin lips pressed tight, radiating a forbidding chill. This was Chase Gabriel, the business tycoon rumored to have caused the deaths of three fiancees. His gaze landed on me, cold and assessing, as if sizing up an object. "You're not Vivian Walker." His voice was colder than ice, slicing through the air like a crack. I propped up my weakening body, the creases in the sheets digging painfully into my skin. "I'm Luna Walker, her sister." I forced my voice to stay calm. "If you're not satisfied, you can send me away right now." After all, I have nowhere left to call home. Suddenly, he leaned in, his oppressive presence crashing down on me. Icy fingers clamped around my neck, the grip tightening with increasing force. "Are you afraid to die?" There was no warmth in his eyes, as if I could become a corpse at any moment. A suffocating sensation washed over me, and my vision began to darken. Instead, I laughed, the sound squeezed from my throat, hoarse like a broken accordion. "Afraid, but more afraid of returning to the Walkers." The hypocrisy and coldness there terrify me more than death. His hand loosened slightly, but his fingertips still lingered at the side of my neck. I seized the moment to voice the condition that had long been weighing on my heart. "I will be your wife." The air seemed to freeze. "Help me make the Walkers disappear completely." I stared into his eyes, where emotions I couldn't decipher churned. He stared at me for a long time. So long that I thought he would refuse, so long my heart felt like it would burst from my chest. "Alright." He finally spoke, his voice unreadable—neither anger nor joy. "But if you go back on your word, your fate will be the same as the Walkers." I nodded firmly, the sensation on my neck still lingering. This deal takes effect from this moment on. The next morning, loud arguing came from downstairs. I slipped on Chase Gabriel's shirt and went downstairs; the loose hem fell past my knees, carrying a faint scent of cedar. The Walkers' parents stood with Vivian Walker in the center of the living room; their faces drained of color the moment they saw me. Mother's hand gripped the strap of her bag tightly, her knuckles turning white. "Chase, this is just a misunderstanding!" She tried to force a smile, but the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepened, making her look especially sinister. Vivian Walker hid behind her, revealing only a pair of eyes filled with bitter resentment. Chase Gabriel sat on the sofa, leisurely sipping his coffee. His knobby fingers gripped the white porcelain cup with a grace that looked like a magazine cover shoot. "A misunderstanding?" He lifted his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the Walkers. "You swapping my fiancee for her—and call it a misunderstanding?" His tone was calm, yet carried an undeniable pressure that brooked no argument.