I Heard the Words Said About Me Before the Wedding, and When I Lifted the Veil, Peter Lost Color

Before the wedding, I stood at the altar and listened to my future husband explain my “punishment” to his best friend. A small gap had remained in the side door of the church, through which their voices reached me directly.

“I’ll endure five years,” said Peter Strickland. “The contract will end, the company will remain with me, and then I’ll be free.”

George’s voice could be heard quietly, but I clearly distinguished Peter’s laughter.

“What if she really is the way they write in the articles? Strange, closed-off, and boring.”

“I saw the photographs,” Peter replied. “For five years I’ll have to pretend that I’m attracted to a woman who will probably bore you at first sight. God knows whether I’ll even be able to stay beside her on the honeymoon.”

I squeezed the silver hairpin chosen by my mother so tightly that the small ornament shaped like an ear of grain cut my skin. A drop of blood passed over the white glove. The pain was almost welcome—it was at least real.

For three years, I had slowly put myself back together from the person whom Klaus had destroyed with his words. I promised myself that I would never again allow a man to make me feel ugly, strange, or invisible.

And now I stood at the altar before a man who had not even seen me yet.

“Adelaide, it’s time,” the ceremony leader told me quietly.

The dress sewn by my mother fit me perfectly. The heavy silk rustled lightly across the floor, while a thin veil covered my face. I thought that veil was my mask. In reality, it was a way for me to remain hidden until the last moment.

The church doors opened.

Four hundred guests turned around at once. I walked alone, because my father was still settling some legal detail at the back of the hall—the “protection” because of which this wedding was supposed to take place.

Peter stood at the altar. He confidently straightened his tie and had such a bored expression, as if he were late for another meeting. First he looked over my shoes, then he looked up at the veil.

“Don’t be afraid,” he told me quietly. “We’ll do everything with dignity.”

“I’m sure,” I answered.

Surprise flashed in his eyes. My voice clearly did not resemble that of the woman he had expected.

The priest said the traditional words and finally asked for the veil to be lifted. My hands were trembling slightly. I could have stopped everything. I could have turned around and left Peter at the same altar where he was already celebrating his victory.

But I was no longer the woman hidden by Klaus.

I lifted the veil.

Such silence fell in the church that it seemed even the flames of all the candles had stopped. Peter’s eyes widened. For the first time, I saw a man who controlled billions lose his words.

“God…” he barely uttered.

“Are you surprised?” I whispered. “Calm down. I didn’t want to marry you either. I heard everything by that door.”

Shame passed over his face, and then he put his business mask back on.

The ceremony continued. We recited the vows mechanically. During the kiss, his lips touched mine only for a moment, but an unexpected electric wave passed through my body. Peter felt the same thing—it was visible in his widened eyes.

Amid the applause, he took my hand.

“We need to talk,” he said with a tense jaw.

“No,” I smiled at the cameras. “We have a contract. Five years. Nothing more.”

Just then, the rear door of the church opened and a familiar woman entered with quick steps. In her hand was a black leather folder. She headed directly toward my father, but stopped on the way and looked at Peter.

Peter’s smile disappeared.

The woman opened the folder’s clasp and reached out to take out the first sheet…

The woman’s name was Elena Hoffman—my father’s lawyer, who was not supposed to come to the wedding.

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked her sternly.

“I came late, but at the necessary time,” Elena replied.

My father immediately stepped between us.

“Adelaide, go to the hotel. I’ll handle this.”

“No,” I said. “Everything concerning my wedding, I must hear.”

Elena put the folder on the table. Her fingers were trembling.

“There is one additional condition in the contract, about which Peter was not told.”

George chuckled quietly.

“Another fatherly trick?”

Elena looked at him.

“You should not laugh, Mr. Whitmore.”

Peter quickly took the folder, but Elena covered it with her hand.

“Not yet. The witnesses must remain.”

A strange coldness passed through my heart. The entire wedding seemed like a staged scene from the very beginning, in which I was not only the bride but also the main test.

Elena took out her phone.

“There is another recording, made this morning. And if it is played publicly, this wedding will no longer have only family significance.”

For the first time, Peter looked not at my face but at my father.

My father lowered his eyes.

Elena put her finger on the screen and touched the play button…

Peter’s voice came from the recording. The same laughter, the same confident tone that I had heard a few minutes earlier beyond the church door.

“For five years I’ll pretend that I’m attracted to her. Then the company will be entirely mine.”

George’s voice followed:

“And if she really turns out to be as unpleasant as they say?”

“Then it will be easier. Who would believe such a woman if she said that I humiliated her?”

Whispers spread through the church. Peter froze. George, standing beside him, lost color and grabbed for the phone, but Elena stepped back.

“That’s illegal!” he shouted.

“The recording was obtained legally,” Elena answered calmly. “You yourself turned on the microphone in the room where you planned to speak with the company board members.”

Peter turned toward me.

“Adelaide, I… it was all a joke.”

“A joke?” I asked. “When you said that you physically would not even be able to stay beside me?”

His face tensed.

“I didn’t know who you were.”

“That is exactly the problem. You did not see a person. You saw only the woman whom you thought it was safe to humiliate.”

Elena opened the folder and arranged several documents on the table.

“Now the main condition,” she said. “Adelaide Müller has anonymously owned the majority of the Strickland Group’s shares for the last three years. This share was transferred to her by her mother’s will and had been entrusted to her father to manage.”

Peter seemed not to understand.

“Impossible.”

“Possible,” I said. “The company you planned to preserve for five years—I have already been financing it for three years.”

George stepped back.

“You… you were that investor?”

“Yes.”

Elena raised the final sheet.

“The marriage contract states that if Peter Strickland publicly humiliates his wife or uses the marriage with false intent to obtain control of the company, the voting shares immediately transfer to Adelaide.”

Peter snatched the sheet from me. His hands trembled so much that the paper began to rustle.

“Your father hid this from me.”

“No,” I said. “I hid it.”

The priest gripped the cross tightly. My mother was crying, while my father looked tired for the first time, not victorious.

Peter raised his head.

“Then why did you marry me?”

I had an answer ready for this question, but before I could say it, Elena’s phone rang. She looked at the screen, and the color drained from her face.

“Adelaide, this call is from New York. The audit team discovered something in the company’s main vault. And they say your signature is on the documents…”