3 Daniel Le Domas

Grace and Alex's wedding was dazzling, but the atmosphere at the Le Domas mansion always gave me the creeps. I glanced to the side and saw my husband, Daniel, absentmindedly adjusting his tie. He gave me a knowing smile, that knowing look we always shared whenever his family's eccentricity became too obvious. Holding my left hand was our six-year-old daughter, Maya, who wore a floral dress and gazed intently at the cake. In my lap, little Leo, just two years old, slept soundly, oblivious to all the opulence and tension surrounding the event. "They seem happy," I commented softly, watching Grace and Alex dance. "I hope she knows what she's getting herself into." Daniel let out a bitter laugh, but pulled me closer, kissing the top of my head. "Nobody really knows until it's too late, my love," he whispered, stroking Leo's back. "But I'm glad you saved me from being completely like them." The ceremony proceeded flawlessly, replete with luxury, forced smiles from Tony and Becky, and Emilie's acidic comments. However, as night fell and the outgoing guests began to leave, the atmosphere changed. The library clock struck midnight. It was time for the initiation tradition. We left Maya and Leo sleeping under the care of the housekeeper upstairs. Daniel held my arm a little more firmly as we walked to the family meeting table. The air seemed thicker. "Remember our agreement," Daniel murmured close to my ear before we entered the room, feeling the weight of the Le Domas surname and knowing that, that night, the cards of destiny would be shuffled for the new bride.