THE HAUNTED HEART OF LIES

I stirred, stretching my arm across the bed, expecting to find Heinrich already gone. But instead of cool, empty sheets, my hand landed on something firm and warm.

A chest.

My eyes snapped open, and I quickly pulled my hand back, but it was too late.

"Touching me so early in the morning?" Heinrich's voice was thick with amusement. I turned to see him lying beside me, smirking lazily. His dark hair was tousled, and his green eyes gleamed with mischief. "I guess you don’t want to wait until the wedding night, huh?"

Heat rushed to my face, and I immediately sat up, wrapping my arms around myself.

“I didn’t see you,” I snapped, feeling embarrassed. “And don’t get too cocky, Mr. Volkov.” I threw the blanket off me and got out of bed, my feet sinking into the plush carpet.

He chuckled, stretching his arms above his head. The sheet slipped slightly, revealing more of his toned chest, and I quickly looked away.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mrs. Volkov-to-be,” he teased.

I groaned, heading toward the bathroom. “You are insufferable.”

His deep laughter followed me, making me scowl.

I could already tell today was going to be a long day.

The drive to the hotel felt endless. I sat stiffly in the passenger seat of Heinrich’s sleek black car, my fingers twisting in my lap.

Heinrich, as usual, was the perfect picture of ease. One hand rested casually on the steering wheel, his gaze focused on the road ahead.

"Relax," he said, not even looking at me.

I scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You’re used to this. I’m not."

"You’ll be fine."

His confidence did nothing to ease my nerves.

When we pulled up to the hotel, my breath hitched.

The place was grand.

Tall glass windows reflected the clear blue sky, and the golden accents on the building shimmered in the afternoon sun. A doorman in a crisp black suit opened my door before I could even move.

"Welcome, Mr. Volkov," he greeted smoothly.

I swallowed hard as I stepped out of the car, my heels clicking against the polished marble entrance.

The lobby was breathtaking. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparkling like a cascade of diamonds. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, and soft classical music played in the background.

I barely had time to take it all in before Heinrich’s hand rested against the small of my back, guiding me forward.

“They’re waiting for us,” he said.

And just like that, my stomach twisted into knots again.

As we entered the private dining room, I felt the weight of their gazes settle on me like a heavy blanket. The setting was grand—high ceilings adorned with chandeliers, a long, polished table set with pristine white tablecloths, and elegant floral arrangements placed perfectly in the center. Every piece of silverware gleamed under the golden light, and floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

But none of that mattered.

Because I felt out of place.

Like a cat trying to fit in with a pride of lions.

A woman, likely in her fifties, greeted us first. She was beautiful, her features elegant and poised, yet there was warmth in her eyes as she smiled at me.

“We have been waiting for so long,” she said, her voice smooth, almost motherly.

She had to be his mother.

“You must be Mariane,” a deep voice followed.

I turned to see a tall man standing up from his chair. He also appeared to be in his fifties, but unlike his wife’s softer appearance, his presence was commanding. His sharp green eyes assessed me, much like Heinrich’s often did, but then his lips curled into an approving smile.

“You are much more beautiful in person.”

I swallowed hard, willing myself not to let my nerves show. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

The man chuckled and shook his head. “No need for formalities. Just call me Dad. You’ll be part of the family soon.”

Dad.

The word echoed in my mind, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. It had been so long since I had called anyone that. My father had died when I was five, and the memories of him were vague, blurred like an old photograph.

“Yes… Dad,” I said, hesitating slightly. “I’ll get used to it.”

“And you can call me Mom,” his wife added with a warm smile.

I nodded, my throat tightening. I had expected hostility, perhaps indifference, but not this—acceptance.

We moved toward the table, where I took in the rest of Heinrich’s family. There were two older men and two older women, possibly uncles and aunts, along with four younger men who looked around Heinrich’s age. And then, there was one young woman, around my age, who sat with a glass of wine in her perfectly manicured hand, watching me with an expression I didn’t like.

She was gorgeous, with long blonde hair styled in soft waves, sharp blue eyes, and an aura of confidence that made it clear she was used to getting what she wanted.

“Mariane, huh?” she said, voice cool, lips curling into a smirk.

I could tell instantly—she didn’t like me.

“My brother could have done better,” she continued, swirling her wine glass. “I still don’t get why you didn’t marry Jesse. She was a better match.”

Jesse.

Even though I had never met her, I already hated her name.

“Emma, behave,” Heinrich’s father said sternly.

Emma scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Dad, come on. Jesse was from a wealthy family, well-educated, and—” she turned to me, a cruel glint in her gaze “—she was not an orphan.”

I felt like someone had knocked the air out of my lungs.

Her words cut deep, slicing into a wound I had barely begun to heal from. My hands curled into fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms.

But I refused to let her see how much it affected me.

I forced a smile, tilting my head. “Well,” I said sweetly, “if she was that good, then I wouldn’t be the one sitting here, would I? It would have been her. Don’t you think?”

A slow chuckle came from beside me. Heinrich.

I turned slightly to look at him, and to my surprise, amusement danced in his green eyes.

“Well, I couldn’t agree more, my love,” he said, his voice smooth. “Jesse wasn’t my ideal woman, but you are.”

Wait—what?

I turned to him in shock. Was this really Heinrich speaking? The same Heinrich who always acted indifferent toward me?

“Oooh, you two look so cute together,” his mother gushed, clasping her hands together.

Emma scoffed, rolling her eyes as she sipped her wine.

“Anyway,” one of the men at the table—one of Heinrich’s cousins, I assumed—spoke up. “Enough about love. It’s making us single people feel like outsiders.” He grinned before turning his attention to me. “Mariane, tell us about yourself.”

I straightened slightly. “Well, I’m in my final year of law school—”

Before I could finish, Heinrich’s father leaned forward, interest flickering in his eyes. “Why did you choose to study law?”

I hesitated. “Well… it’s not a very interesting story.”

“Nonsense,” he said, waving a hand. “Nothing can ever be not interesting. Tell us.”

I took a deep breath. “When I was younger, my mother and I didn’t have much. We struggled a lot. I remember seeing her work long hours just to put food on the table. But there were times when things weren’t fair—times when we were taken advantage of simply because we didn’t have power or money. I wanted to change that. I wanted to be someone who could stand up for people like us.”

A brief silence followed my words.

Then, to my surprise, Heinrich’s father nodded, a look of approval crossing his face.

“That,” he said, “is a worthy reason.”

I blinked.

“You have ambition,” he continued. “And drive. Those are qualities I admire.”

I exhaled, tension slowly leaving my shoulders.

“Besides,” Heinrich’s mother added, “we need more strong women in this family.”

I smiled slightly. “Thank you.”

Emma scoffed under her breath, muttering something I couldn’t quite hear.

But before anything else could be said, one of Heinrich’s brothers clapped his hands together. “Now that we’ve covered introductions, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

The servers began placing dishes in front of us—succulent steaks, roasted vegetables, creamy mashed potatoes, and rich sauces. The aroma alone was enough to make my mouth water.

As I reached for my fork, I felt Heinrich lean in slightly.

“See?” he murmured under his breath, amusement in his tone. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I shot him a look. “I’d say it was tolerable at best.”

He chuckled. “I’ll take that.”

And as the conversation continued around me, I realized something.

For the first time since entering this arranged marriage, I didn’t feel like a complete outsider.

The atmosphere in the private dining room was tense yet sophisticated. The walls were adorned with expensive artwork, and a chandelier above cast a soft golden glow over the polished wooden table. The scent of gourmet dishes filled the air, but I barely tasted my food. The weight of their gazes on me made every bite feel heavier than it should.

I was still adjusting to the idea of being here—sitting among Heinrich’s family, surrounded by wealth and influence that felt foreign to me. But despite my initial apprehension, his parents had been welcoming, which came as a surprise.

That warmth, however, did not extend to everyone.

“So, have you picked your wedding dress yet? The venue? Or at least the guests you would like to invite?” His mother’s voice was gentle, but there was an undeniable curiosity behind it.

Before I could even respond, Heinrich answered for me, his tone nonchalant. “I called the designer, and she said she’d be available on the weekend. As for the venue and guest list, I’ve already prepared everything.”

I froze. He prepared everything?

His mother’s sharp gaze snapped toward him, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I wasn’t asking you, Heinrich.”

He raised a brow, looking completely unaffected by her displeasure.

She turned to me instead, her expression softer. “Mariane, did you see the wedding venue and the guest list? Or did my idiotic son decide everything himself?”

I hesitated, feeling every pair of eyes at the table locked onto me. “Uhm…” I glanced at Heinrich, unsure how to answer.

“Your silence says it all,” she said, exhaling sharply. “Heinrich Volkov, as much as this is your wedding, it is hers too. She should have a say in it.”

“I never said she didn’t,” he replied, his tone indifferent.

“Seems like she doesn’t,” his mother shot back. “You will take her with you to see the venue, and if she doesn’t like it, then it will be changed. And the guest list too.”

Heinrich groaned, rubbing his temple. “Mom, come on, it’s not a big deal.”

His mother reached for her fork, holding it up as if she was genuinely contemplating throwing it at him. “Don’t make me throw this at you, young man. Her opinion matters.”

I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile at how easily she put him in his place.

“She should just be grateful that she’s marrying into our family,” Emma muttered, swirling the wine in her glass.

The words stung, but before I could react, Heinrich’s father spoke in a deep, firm voice. “And you should be grateful I haven’t disowned you.”

Emma immediately shut her mouth, her face flushing in embarrassment.

There was an awkward silence before one of the older men at the table, whom I assumed was Heinrich’s uncle, cleared his throat. “Anyway, since we’re on the topic, when is the wedding?”

“Less than three weeks,” Heinrich answered casually.

The room fell into stunned silence.

His mother nearly dropped her glass. “Three weeks? And you didn’t tell us?”

I felt my stomach twist. He hadn’t told them?

His father leaned forward, frowning. “Why the rush?”

Heinrich shrugged. “I don’t see the point in waiting.”

His mother’s face turned red with frustration. “It is a big deal, you idiot! A wedding in less than three weeks? Do you realize how much needs to be done?”

“Everything’s already planned.”

His mother pinched the bridge of her nose as if trying to suppress a headache. “Heinrich, you can’t just throw together a wedding like this! There are traditions, formalities—”

“I don’t care about those.”

“Well, I do,” she snapped. Then she turned to me, her voice softer but still firm. “Mariane, did you agree to this rushed wedding?”

I swallowed hard, feeling like I was stuck in the middle of a storm. “I… I knew it was in three weeks, but I thought everyone else knew too.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “And did you get a say in it? Or did Heinrich decide everything on his own?”

I hesitated. “I… I didn’t really have much of a choice.”

Her eyes darkened. “That’s unacceptable.”

Heinrich exhaled, looking frustrated. “Mom, enough.”

She ignored him completely, turning back to me. “Dear, if there’s anything you want changed—anything at all—you tell me.”

I bit my lip, unsure how to respond.

Emma scoffed. “Oh, please. What would she even want to change? She’s just lucky to be here.”

My fists clenched under the table.

Heinrich’s jaw tightened. His voice was low and dangerous. “Emma. Shut up.”

She smirked, but for once, she actually listened.

His mother reached over, gently placing her hand over mine. “Listen to me, dear. If you don’t like the venue, we change it. If the guest list isn’t to your liking, we fix it. And if you want more time, we take more time.”

I stared at her, surprised by the kindness in her voice. “But… Heinrich already planned everything.”

“So what?” she said. “A wedding should be planned by both the bride and groom. You should have a say. This isn’t just about him.”

I looked at Heinrich, who was watching me with an unreadable expression.

“Do you want more time?” his mother pressed.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Did I? Would he even allow that?

Heinrich spoke before I could. “The wedding will happen in three weeks. That’s final.”

His mother scoffed. “You really are a control freak, aren’t you?”

“I’m efficient.”

“You’re impossible.”

I swallowed my emotions, forcing a small smile. “It’s okay. I’ll go with him to see the venue. And… the guest list too.”

His mother studied me for a long moment before sighing. “Fine. But if you change your mind, tell me.”

“I will.”

The conversation moved on, but I still felt the weight of the moment pressing on me.

Three weeks.

A wedding I had no real say in.

But maybe… just maybe… his mother was right.

Maybe I could take back a little control.