The Secret Wife

Prologue

"How do you accept an agreement you never chose?"

I don’t know how I got here.

Every step I took toward the altar felt like a march toward a sentence I never wanted to accept. With each stride, the weight on my shoulders grew heavier. The cold air from the church’s air-conditioning did nothing to ease the suffocating feeling in my chest.

Now, I stand before the altar, beside a man I never loved—Sebastian Villafuerte.

His expression is cold, as if this was nothing more than a transaction to be completed. He didn’t even glance at me when I arrived at the altar, as if I held no value to him—just an object exchanged between two families.

I am a prisoner of a promise I never made.

Around me, I can feel the weight of the guests' stares—powerful people, businessmen, families long allied with the Villafuertes. They were all watching, waiting, perhaps anticipating a scandal.

"She’s beautiful, but she doesn’t look happy."

"Isn’t she the daughter of the Ramirez family? The one whose business went bankrupt?"

"What a waste, marrying someone like Sebastian."

"What do you mean, a waste? He’s handsome and rich," another gossiping woman chimed in, completely oblivious to what I truly felt.

I clenched my fists beneath the bouquet of roses. If only they knew... If only they knew how I was forced into this marriage with a man I never imagined would become a part of my life.

"Sebastian Villafuerte, do you take Isabella to be your wife?"

The priest’s question broke through my thoughts.

A brief silence followed.

I turned to look at Sebastian, hoping to see even the slightest hesitation in his face. But there was none. No flicker of emotion crossed his cold eyes.

"Yes."

One word. No doubt. No emotion.

Everything stopped. My breathing, my heartbeat.

Then, my mother’s voice echoed in my mind.

"Isabella, my child… you have to do this for our family."