My Rival, My Temptation - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Katherine’s POV
Silence.
Thick, suffocating silence filled the church the second I hesitated.
I had heard before that moments like these stretched endlessly, that time slowed down when you were on the verge of a life-altering decision. I never really believed it until now.
I could hear my own breathing, too fast, too uneven. I could feel every pair of eyes in the room locked onto me, waiting, anticipating, judging.
I had been prepared to say I do. I had repeated it in my head over and over again like a mantra, like a script I just had to follow. But now, standing here, with the priest staring at me expectantly, with Nikolai standing still as stone in front of me, something inside me locked up.
Run.
My mind screamed it so loudly I was afraid I had actually spoken the word out loud.
I swallowed hard and looked away from Nikolai’s sharp gaze, turning instead to my mother. She sat in the front pew, her hands clasped tightly together, her eyes wide and pleading.
She looked at me with desperation, her perfectly made-up face barely concealing the panic underneath. Say it, her eyes begged. Don’t make a scene. Don’t humiliate us.
Then I turned to my father. His expression was much colder, more calculated. He didn’t look panicked, didn’t look particularly emotional at all. He just lifted his hand ever so slightly, a subtle gesture for me to speak, to get on with it.
I had no allies here.
I could feel the room closing in on me, the air thick and stifling. I turned my gaze to the crowd, hoping for what? A miracle? Someone to object?
Rows and rows of people stared back at me. Business moguls, politicians, powerful men in expensive suits, their wives in flashy gowns. They were all waiting for the beautiful bride to seal the deal. Not a single one of them cared about what I wanted.
For a fleeting moment, my gaze darted toward Irina, searching for her reaction.
I spotted her immediately, sitting near the aisle, her perfect red lips pressed into a thin line, her sharp nails digging into her champagne-colored clutch. If there was anyone I had expected to throw a scene, it was her. And yet, she didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She didn’t so much as shift in her seat.
She wasn’t going to stop this.
No one was.
The realization hit me with an almost sickening force. I was standing at the very edge of my fate, and there was no escape.
I turned my head slightly, my gaze landing on Alexei.
Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t staring at me with judgment or impatience. Instead, there was something softer in his expression, a quiet understanding. And when our eyes met, he gave me a small, almost knowing smile.
It nearly broke me.
For a split second, I wished I could go back in time. To when we were younger, to when I used to imagine a wedding, not like this, not with Nikolai, but with Alexei. To when I thought the world was full of possibilities instead of impossible choices.
But that time was gone.
So I turned back to the man in front of me—the man I was supposed to marry.
Nikolai’s expression was unreadable, his icy blue eyes locked onto mine.
He wasn’t smiling.
He wasn’t impatient or amused, either.
He was simply watching me, like he was waiting to see what I would do next. There was no trace of nerves in his expression, no flash of doubt. Just quiet certainty.
Was he amused? Indifferent? Was he secretly enjoying the fact that I was absolutely terrified right now?
I couldn’t tell.
And that terrified me even more.
There was no way out.
No one was going to stop this.
I had to do it.
I forced myself to inhale, my entire body trembling as I opened my mouth.
The words felt foreign in my mouth, like they belonged to someone else. Someone who wanted this. Someone who believed in it.
“I do.”
The words barely left my lips, but they were there, spoken, sealing my fate.
The priest continued, exchanging vows, leading us through the motions. I barely registered it, my body moving on autopilot as Nikolai took my hand, sliding a heavy platinum band onto my finger. I did the same for him, my fingers numb, my breath shallow.
“And now, by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife.”
The finality of it struck me like a physical blow.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
For a second, neither of us moved. Then, slowly, Nikolai lifted a hand, reaching for my veil.
I should have flinched. Should have pulled away.
But I didn’t. What was the point when I had already said I do?
The delicate lace slid back, revealing my face fully to him, and for the briefest moment, his gaze changed, like he had just seen something unexpected. But whatever it was, it was gone in an instant, replaced by something far more calculating.
He leaned in, his lips just inches from mine.
“Welcome to the family,” he murmured so only I could hear.
The words should have sounded like a simple greeting, but from his lips, they were anything but. They coiled around me like a chain, final and unbreakable. There was something sharp in his tone, something taunting. A warning? A threat?
I had no time to figure it out because before I could react, he kissed me.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t tender.
It was a claim. A silent message, pressed firmly against my lips; this is real. You are mine now.
His grip tightened at my waist as he deepened the kiss just slightly, just enough to make sure the crowd would believe it. Just enough to leave me breathless.
By the time he pulled away, I was lightheaded, my lips tingling from the force of it.
The crowd erupted in cheers. Applause rang through the church, but I barely heard it, the reality of my situation ringing incessantly in my ears.
Nikolai Volkov had won.
And just like that, the nightmare was official.
I was Katherine Volkov.
The celebration that followed felt like a blur.
People congratulated us, toasted to our “happiness,”–which to be honest, felt like a death sentence for me–their smiles bright and oblivious. I smiled back, the same carefully crafted expression plastered onto my face, my cheeks aching from the effort.
I greeted each well-wisher, shaking hands, nodding, pretending.
“You’re glowing, my dear,” an older woman cooed, squeezing my hands.
“A perfect match,” a man added with a wide grin.
“What a beautiful couple!”
Lies. All of it.
I was exhausted from keeping up the charade. From the way Nikolai stood beside me, offering nothing but cool, effortless smiles to every guest like he was happy to be married.
What a pretender.
And then, just as I was about to find an excuse to slip away, it was time for the first dance.
I barely had time to brace myself before Nikolai took my hand and led me onto the dance floor.
His hand rested at my waist, firm, possessive. His fingers barely pressed into my skin through the fabric, but I still felt the heat of them. We moved in sync, too effortlessly, as if we had done this before. I hated that. Hated that, despite everything, my body responded to his lead as if it belonged here.
I forced myself to focus on something; anything other than the way his breath ghosted near my temple. The sharp cut of his jaw, the way the chandeliers reflected in his ice-blue eyes.
“I saw you hesitate,” he murmured, his voice too composed for someone who had just trapped me in a contract. “You almost chickened out.”
“Yes”, I bit out, forcing myself to meet his gaze and ignoring the way my pulse jumped at how close he was. “I thought about it.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I had no choice.”
His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Smart girl.”
“Oh, please.”
I hated that I noticed how striking his eyes looked up close; sharp, ice-blue, like frozen fire. I hated that even when I loathed him, he still managed to look good instead of looking like an ogre.
He let out a quiet chuckle, but there was no warmth in it. “One of us will break before the year is up.”
My fingers tensed against his shoulder. “Probably.”
“But don’t forget, Katherine,” he continued, his voice smooth, controlled. “If you leave before the time is up, your father’s business falls apart.”
A sharp sting of frustration coiled in my chest. I already knew that; I had known it from the moment I agreed to this. But hearing him say it so blatantly, so smugly, made something burn inside me.
He was right, though. There was no walking away from this. Not right now anyways.
As the song ended, he smirked, releasing me and taking a step back.
“I’ll see you soon, Covey.”
The use of my maiden name was deliberate, a reminder that I might be his wife now, but it was only on paper.
I turned sharply, moving toward the bar, needing a drink, something to take the edge off.
That was when Alexei appeared beside me.
“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice softer than I expected.
I turned to him, searching his expression for judgment, for disappointment. I found neither.
“Surprised to hear you’re marrying my brother,” he added, sipping his drink. “Then again, stranger things have happened.”
I let out a short, bitter laugh. “Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.”
Alexei tilted his head slightly, watching me in that way that made me feel like he could see right through me. Then he leaned in just a little, lowering his voice.
“You think this was your only choice?”
I frowned, confused. “What?”
But before he could answer, my mother appeared, smiling brightly as she pulled me away.
“Come, darling. It’s time to cut the cake.”
As she pulled me away, Alexei’s words stayed on my mind.
What did it mean?