Chapter 3 A Deal with the Devil
Adam Bella
"Wait… you mean David Copperfield?" I whispered, as if saying it louder would somehow make this even crazier. "The CEO of the Copperfield Group?"
Cynthia smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes, like she was in on a secret the rest of the world didn’t know. "Yes, him."
The floor seemed to drop out from under me. David Copperfield. The man who could make or break industries with a phone call. The one who built an empire from nothing. I suddenly felt very, very small.
My mind raced. I’d heard the stories, the rumors. David was legendary not just for his wealth but for his ruthlessness. And now I was about to marry him?
Everything became a blur. I remembered Elowen gossiping about him, how women threw themselves at him, how his childhood love, Jordan, had been his one true heartbreak. But why me? Why now? What was the point of this entire charade?
The air grew thick as realization set in. My heart pounded in my chest as I gripped the edge of a nearby table for support. This isn’t a dream. This is real. I was about to marry David Copperfield, a man feared and admired in equal measure.
A sudden knock on the door snapped me back to reality. "Miss, we need to hurry."
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. What had I agreed to?
As Cynthia unveiled the gown a shimmering piece adorned with what looked like actual diamonds I stared, wide-eyed. "Is that real?" I blurted out.
Cynthia chuckled softly. "Yes, it is."
I felt the weight of the world pressing down on me as I slipped into the dress. My reflection in the mirror was a stranger. How had my life turned into this?
As she adjusted the final pieces, I couldn’t help but ask, "What about Jordan? David’s childhood lover?"
Cynthia paused, her hands stilling. The air between us grew heavy, and I could see the slightest flicker of something in her eyes. "That," she said quietly, "is none of your concern.”
The room fell silent, a strange tension hanging in the air. Cynthia hesitated, glancing at the other maids, before whispering, “She…”
Before she could elaborate, David strode in, his face as stoic as ever. “It’s time,” he announced, slicing through the tension like a knife.
I stood up, expecting at least a compliment on my appearance, but he merely raised an eyebrow, surprised, before his expression hardened once more.
I need to teach this guy a lesson. Why can’t he just say, “You look beautiful”? Is that so hard?
I followed David outside, another car waiting for us. Why can't we just use the car that brought us here? This seemed unnecessary. I anticipated him opening the door for me, but instead, he slammed it shut behind him. What a jerk. One of the guards stepped forward, opening the door for me as I entered.
The car ride was thick with silence until we arrived at the beach, where a throng awaited us, eager paparazzi capturing the moment with flashes of light.
I had never experienced anything like this—hundreds of cameras aimed at me, my face veiled as I walked down the aisle. When the pastor asked, “Do you take this man as your beloved husband?” I felt a wicked thought flicker through my mind: What if I said “No” just to punish him?
I took a step closer, my voice low but full of defiance. “You know I could say ‘No’ to you right now…”
He smirked, a glint of challenge in his eyes. “I dare you.”
