Bound to my Enemy novel Chapter 40

Chapter 40: Chapter 40.

I tighten my fingers around Zane’s hand even though every nerve in my body is screaming to pull away.

The officiant’s voice rises, calm and steady. "Do you, Elaine Hartwell, take Zane Whitmore to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, forsaking all others, keeping yourself only unto him, so long as you both shall live?"

I say the words, carefully, deliberately, forcing the syllables out even though my stomach twists into knots. "...I do." My voice is steady, but my knees tremble. I glance at Lucas for reassurance. He squeezes my arm once, a subtle anchor, then steps back to give me space.

Now Zane’s turn. His voice is low and deliberate. "...I take you, Elaine, to be my wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse..." His fingers brush mine as he slips the ring onto my finger. My hand twitches instinctively, but I don’t pull away. My stomach knots and I grit my teeth. I hate that my pulse reacts to him. I mean come on I freaking loathe the man.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride," the officiant says.

My chest tightens. My mind screams at me to resist, to refuse, to shove him back. But before I can even think, his lips are on mine. It’s not gentle, not coaxing.....it’s commanding, his mouth moving with precision, as though this moment belongs entirely to him. I keep my hands on his shoulders, resisting the pull of my body, forcing my spine straight even as heat spreads through me and my stomach flutters in defiance. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

By the time we reach the exit, his movements are slightly off. He coughs again, once more, his hand instinctively clawing at his throat, the other gripping mine like he’s trying to anchor himself to reality. Guests are too preoccupied with the spectacle to notice the tiny twitching panic in him. Lucas leans in slightly, whispering a quiet, "You okay?" but I shake my head subtly, signaling that I’m fine, because I’m not the one that’s need comfort now.

The music fades behind us, the air outside heavy with evening warmth. I finally allow my own heartbeat to slow, forcing each breath measured and calm, even as Zane next to me struggles to regain composure, coughing one last time before straightening. I glance at him, expression neutral, letting a flicker of triumph linger in my chest. He doesn’t meet my eyes. Good.

Lucas lets out a soft sigh beside me, and I think I see Noah and Caleb exchanging a small, knowing glance. I tighten my grip on Zane’s arm just enough to remind him that I’m still tethered to him. The taste of satisfaction is quiet but sharp. I hate him, yes, and right now, right at this precise moment, he is off-balance, just enough that it feels like a small victory.