BOUND TO THE WRONG CALLAHAN

Chapter 1

If tonight was supposed to be the happiest night of her life, why did it feel like a funeral?

The diamond on Sienna's finger caught the light. Three carats. Flawless. Just like everything else in her life was supposed to be.

She stared at herself in Noah's bathroom mirror. The woman staring back should be happy. Designer dress. Professional makeup. Hair styled by the same person who did her mother's.

She was going to marry Noah Callahan. The man both families picked for her.

So why did she feel like she was dying inside?

"Sienna?" Noah's voice drifted through the door. "The photographer is here."

"Coming." But her feet wouldn't move.

The engagement photos. Another performance in the show their families orchestrated. She pressed her palms against the cold marble counter and took a deep breath. The faint scent of Noah's cologne lingered in the air, expensive and impersonal. This was what both families had planned for years. The merger disguised as romance.

Noah Callahan was everything they wanted. Old money meeting new money. The Callahan real estate empire joining Blake Industries. The Callahan name carried more weight than she liked to admit, and more shadows than the society pages ever printed. He opened doors. He remembered the calendar. He brought flowers his assistant picked out. He never raised his voice. He never surprised her.

The deal.

Even thinking the word made her chest tighten.

A flash of memory hit her. Cool sand beneath her feet. The smell of ocean air and bonfire smoke. A voice rough with want saying her name like a prayer.

She shook her head. Not now. Not tonight.

She splashed cold water on her wrists, careful not to disturb her makeup, and walked out.

Noah stood by the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. His broad shoulders filled out his navy suit. His dark hair was styled to precision.

He turned when he heard her heels clicking on the hardwood, and his face brightened with that practiced expression she'd seen since childhood.

"You're gorgeous." He kissed her cheek. His lips were warm but they registered as nothing. They always registered as nothing.

"Thank you." The words came out automatic.

The photographer, a thin woman named Margaret who shot all the society engagements, bustled around setting up. She posed them by the window, on the leather couch, by the fireplace. Each position felt rehearsed.

"Stunning," Margaret said, snapping away. "Just like your parents' engagement photos, Sienna. I shot those too."

Of course she did. Everything in their world followed the same patterns.

"Now, Sienna, tilt your head. Show off that gorgeous ring."

Sienna tilted her head. She leaned into Noah's chest like she'd been trained to do since they were announced as a suitable match at the Midsummer Charity Gala.

But as the camera clicked, a strange thought hit her. What would it feel like to laugh in a picture? Not smile on command. Just laugh because something was funny.

The thought scared