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Lies & Vows Novel Cover

Lies & Vows

"Till death do us part." We both parroted the words of the priest without emotion, our gazes locked in a silent battle, ignoring the cheer of the congregation who had come to witness this façade. What is going through that mind of yours? I stared unflinchingly into those ink-black eyes. Is he already devising a means to end me permanently? Or will he be more creative, torture maybe? He seemed too calm to just go along with this arrangement, for someone who is known to always get his way. "Hello, husband," I smirked, needing to rile him up a bit. "Hello to you, wife," he replied in a deep, gruff voice with a devilish smirk. "I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest announced, sealing my marriage to the devil.
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Chapter 5

SERENA'S POV

It felt as if arrangements had been happening behind my back, and they were merely waiting for my final acceptance.

Within two days, we were already hosting the Moretti family at our dining table-along with my soon-to-be husband.

"Did you also make the piece you're wearing?" Isadora, Raphael's aunt, asked in her rich, sonorous voice as the chef and his help served dinner.

She was an elegant woman who redefined the word "classy," exuding a high taste in fashion that was evident in her outfit.

She wasn't gaudy, nor was she overly flashy.

The stylish nude and brown dress, she was wearing looked oddly familiar, accentuated with minimal makeup and a single piece of jewelry, a golden chain with a rose gold, diamond-shaped pendant.

"Yes," I responded politely, waiting for my father to start eating so I could do the same.

I made a point to ignore Raphael, who sat directly across from me.

Thankfully, he seemed to return the favor.

"What is your brand name again?" Isadora paused, glancing down at her dress before smiling knowingly. "Serene, right?"

That's when it clicked. I knew that design. Scratch that, I sketched it.

I had been too preoccupied lately to check in on my fashion house or even call Susanne, my manager.

I needed to do that soon.

"It suits you well," I replied with a small smile, genuinely pleased.

It was one of my exclusive pieces, and from the look of it, she must have spent a fortune acquiring it.

The dress hugged her perfectly, complementing her caramel skin.

"Thank you. Raphael said the same thing when he saw me try it on,"

"No, I didn't," he interjected, his tone flat, his smoky voice indifferent.

A small frown formed on Isadora's face, and she turned to reprimand him when an uninvited guest rushed giddily into the room.

Lilian.

She had been avoiding me ever since my father announced my engagement to Raphael.

If she was trying to show me she was upset, well the joke was on her.

"Aunty, you're here already!" Lilian chirped, hugging Isadora from behind.

I thought she had gone shopping with her mother. My father always the crafty man that he was had suggested she went out to get new clothes.

Though I knew he just didn't want them around when the Moretti's arrived, he even went as far as handing his wife his maxi card to ensure they were well occupied.

Yet, here she was, chatting animatedly with Isadora, as if they were best of friends.

I shot them a pointed look before deciding it wasn't worth my energy and returned my focus to my meal.

Their laughter filled the air, with Lilian making every effort to drag Raphael into the conversation.

If her goal was to make me uncomfortable, she needn't bother.

The thought of pledging my wedding vows to the stranger sitting across from me was discomfort enough. If I could have switched places with her, I would do so in a heartbeat.

"Lilian, why don't you take a seat and let our guests enjoy their meal?" my father chided lightly before turning to Raphael and Isadora.

"I apologize for her manners,"

Raphael merely shrugged, methodically cutting his steak, while Isadora waved it off with a lighthearted laugh.

Lilian, surprisingly, took the seat beside me. Not that I cared. Okay maybe I did care, she was too in my space.

After dinner, dessert was served with another bottle of vintage wine.

The elders discussed wedding plans, deciding on a date just four weeks away, ample time, according to them, to plan everything.

I nursed my wine, my mind drifting. My father's enthusiasm was evident, he practically glowed as he discussed the details with Isadora.

Meanwhile, Raphael was preoccupied with his phone. His demeanor calm as usual.

Who was he chatting with?

Was it business? A mistress? I tasked myself with the duty of guessing who it was with the different expressions on his face.

He looked up suddenly as if feeling the weight of my inquisitive gaze in him.

He arched a brow, a demeaning smile dancing at the edge of his lips.

I sneered at him in response then looked away.

A sudden yawn escaped me, my eyelids growing heavy.

"Are you okay?" Lilian's voice drew everyone's attention to me, something I had hoped to avoid.

"Yeah, just feeling a bit off. I think my lack of sleep is finally catching up to-" another yawn interrupted my sentence.

"You should rest," Lilian suggested, her voice unusually having a calming effect on me.

For once, I agreed with her. I muttered a vague apology, pushing back my chair.

My body felt oddly sluggish as I made my way to my room. As soon as I hit the bed, darkness consumed me.

---

RAPHAEL'S POV

The conversation had drifted from wedding plans to reminiscing about the past specifically, when my father was still alive.

My aunt and Mr. Giovanni were deep in discussion, their voices tinged with nostalgia and their eyes filled with a silent sadness.

I had a feeling there was something between this two that I wouldn't like to hear.

I looked away from them, the boredom I was feeling earlier increasing at every moment.

Mr. Giovanni's daughter, on the other hand, couldn't seem to take a hint that I wasn't interested in engaging in any kind of discussion with her.

My phone vibrated in my hand. A call from Lorenzo, my cousin and right-hand man.

I stood up excusing myself to take the call in a more private place, but before I could leave, a loud, scream echoed from upstairs.

Everyone froze for a split second before springing into action, racing up the stairs.

I got there first.

A woman, who bore a striking resemblance to Lilian stood at the doorway, hand clamped over her mouth, her body frozen in shock.

I walked past her just as Mr. Giovanni arrived. The moment I stepped into the room, I understood why she had screamed.

Serena, my supposed bride, was currently curled up in bed, sleeping soundly in the arms of another man.

Her father's wingman.

"SERENA!!!" Mr. Giovanni bellowed, his voice shaking the walls with rage.

I guess this marriage wouldn't be as dull as I thought it would be.

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