Trapped in my Sister's Wedding Vows

Sleep no longer came easily to Mireya.

After the failed rescue, the Ashcroft mansion felt different, tense, watchful. Every hushed conversation between staff carried suspicion. Every closed door felt deliberate.

Arabella was still missing.

And now Mireya knew for certain she had been taken.

She had just stepped into the reception corridor when a familiar voice stopped her cold.

"I'm not here to negotiate with legal teams. I'm here to see her."

Her pulse spiked.

That voice.

She moved toward the lounge slowly, almost afraid to confirm what she already knew.

Lucas stood near the fireplace, composed and unmistakably real. Older than she remembered, sharper around the edges but the same steady presence she had once trusted with everything.

His eyes found hers.

"Mireya."

The years between them collapsed instantly.

"Lucas..."

Adrian excused himself quietly, leaving them alone.

"You really married him," Lucas said, not accusing, just wounded.

"It wasn't my choice," she replied.

He searched her face, as if weighing the truth in her expression.

"You look exhausted."

"I am."

He stepped closer, not touching her, but near enough that the familiarity unsettled her more than distance would have.

"I came back as soon as I heard about your sister," he said. "I should have returned sooner."

"You left for your career," she answered softly. "You didn't abandon me."

A flicker of regret crossed his face.

"I heard she disappeared."

"She was kidnapped," Mireya said quickly. "Veltrane Consortium."

Lucas's expression hardened.

"That's not a small enemy."

"I know."

"Are you safe here?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered instinctively. "Ronan would never let harm reach me."

Lucas held her gaze. "That's not what I meant."

Before she could respond, the main doors opened.

Ronan entered, rain clinging to his coat, a bruise shadowing his cheekbone. His silver eyes locked onto Lucas immediately.

Recognition.

Then hostility.

"The past arrives uninvited," Ronan said coolly.

"Good evening, Ronan," Lucas replied evenly.

"You entered my home without permission."

"I came to see Mireya."

Ronan's gaze flicked to her briefly before returning to Lucas. "She is Mrs. Ashcroft."

"She isn't property."

"She is my wife."

The air tightened between them.

"Stop," Mireya said firmly.

Neither man looked at her.

"Did you force this marriage?" Lucas asked.

Ronan's expression turned lethal. "Choose your words carefully."

"It was a legal agreement," Mireya cut in quickly. "Temporary. Until Arabella is found."

Lucas's gaze softened toward her. "You deserve more than being someone's contingency plan."

Ronan stepped forward. "You forfeited whatever claim you think you have when you left."

"Connection doesn't disappear because distance exists," Lucas replied.

The tension felt less like rivalry and more like unfinished history.

Lucas turned back to Mireya. "I'm not here to start a war. I'm here because you once said you'd never face life alone."

Her chest tightened.

"And now?" she asked quietly.

"Now I see you in the middle of a battlefield."

Ronan's restraint thinned. "You've said enough."

Lucas nodded once and placed a business card on the console beside her.

"My direct line. If you need someone who chooses you."

He paused beside Ronan.

"Veltrane isn't just targeting Arabella," he said quietly. "They're destabilizing your legacy. And they're not the only ones watching."

Then he left.

The doors shut behind him, sealing the silence.

Ronan removed his coat slowly.

"You still love him," he said.

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

Hurt flared inside her. "You don't get to interrogate my past when you control my present."

His gaze sharpened. "You underestimate how deeply your past can threaten my future."

"Your empire?" she asked bitterly.

"You."

The word hung between them.

Ronan seemed to realize what he had revealed. His composure snapped back into place.

"Get some rest," he said, turning toward his study.

Mireya remained standing alone in the hall, her emotions colliding violently.

Outside the gates, Lucas sat inside his car, staring at the Ashcroft estate through rain streaked glass.

"Back to the hotel, sir?" his driver asked.

"No."

He pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Begin gathering intelligence on Veltrane," he ordered calmly.

"Are you aligning with Ashcroft operations?" the voice asked.

Lucas's gaze remained fixed on the mansion lights.

"No," he said.

"I'm protecting something far more personal."

The call ended.

And with it, the war around Mireya gained another player.