The Billionaire's Regret

Elena's POV

"Do you, Elena Moretti, take Alexander Drake as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

The priest’s voice echoed through the majestic cathedral. My throat felt dry, and my palms were clammy beneath the silk gloves my mother insisted I wear. Every pair of eyes in the room was fixed on me. My father sat in the front pew, stiff and unreadable, as if this moment was just another business deal he was overseeing. To him, it probably was.

I stole a quick glance at Alexander. He didn’t return my gaze. His eyes were focused straight ahead, his jaw set like stone, dark hair slicked back perfectly, and his tailored suit as sharp as the intensity in his stare. I had never seen a groom look so eager to be anywhere but here.

"I do," I whispered.

The words felt heavy, like chains clinking around my wrists.

The priest looked at him intently. "Do you, Alexander Drake, take Elena Moretti.."

"I do."

His answer was quick and almost rushed, as if he wanted to wrap up this charade as fast as he could. There was certainty in his voice, but it felt devoid of any real emotion.

The priest gave a slight smile. "Then, by the authority granted to me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

For what felt like an eternity, Alexander stood frozen. Then, almost mechanically, he leaned in and placed the lightest kiss on my cheek. My very first kiss as a wife, and it wasn’t even on the lips. I forced a smile for the cameras flashing, for the guests watching, for my father’s scrutinizing gaze.

The ceremony wrapped up, and applause filled the hall. To me, it all felt hollow.

---

Hours later, the wedding reception turned into a blur of champagne toasts and hollow congratulations. I smiled until my cheeks ached. When it finally wrapped up, Alexander and I drove to his penthouse in silence.

The elevator ride was suffocating. I stood beside him, clutching my bouquet, while he scrolled through his phone as if I wasn’t even there.

When the doors to his home swung open, I was completely taken aback by how massive it was—glass walls, marble floors, and city lights that seemed to stretch on forever. It felt cold yet perfect, much like him.

He set his phone down and finally locked eyes with me. His gaze was piercing and distant, cutting through the fragile hope I had been holding onto.

"Let’s get one thing straight, Elena." His voice was low and firm. "This marriage is just for appearances. It keeps our fathers happy, satisfies the press, and makes sure business runs smoothly. That’s all there is to it."

I swallowed hard. "I understand."

"Good." He stepped closer, his cologne sharp and his presence overwhelming. "Stay out of my way. Don’t interfere in my business, and don’t embarrass