Empire of Desire: An Alpha’s Financial Reign - Chapter 40

The wedding ceremony was held at the opulent banquet hall of Jiang Sinian’s luxury hotel—an architectural marvel that stood as a symbol of wealth, prestige, and modern elegance. The hall shimmered beneath a cascade of chandeliers, their crystalline brilliance casting prismatic light over every polished surface.

Ornate floral arrangements lined the long red carpet, their fragrance mingling with the subtle scent of expensive perfume and fine wine. The atmosphere hummed with excitement, the air dense with the buzz of anticipation and polished conversations.

This was no ordinary gathering—it was the convergence of China’s elite: celebrity luminaries, business magnates, influential political figures, and media moguls, all present to witness what was being hailed as the “wedding of the century.”

The union of Han Zaijing and Jiang Wan was not merely the matrimonial bond of two individuals in love—it was a monumental alliance between two powerful families. A merger of legacies, a consolidation of status, and a statement of dominance in the upper echelons of society. Every guest in attendance was acutely aware of the symbolic weight this marriage carried.

Han Zaijing, poised with a refined elegance that made her stand out even amidst the crowd of glamorous attendees, wore a bespoke black suit crafted by a legendary haute couture designer. The tailoring was flawless—every stitch a testament to artisanal mastery. The luxurious fabric shimmered subtly under the banquet lights, hinting at understated nobility.

Her hair was neatly styled, swept back to reveal her strong, sculpted features: a flawless forehead, luminous eyes, and a sharply defined jawline. Her usually stoic expression betrayed the faintest hints of emotion—nervousness concealed beneath composure, excitement cloaked beneath poise. Her arms hung stiffly at her sides, betraying an inner turbulence that contrasted with the calm on her face.

By her side stood Jiang Wan, radiant in a gown that seemed spun from moonlight. Her wedding dress was a vision of opulence, with a voluminous skirt encrusted with countless tiny crystals that caught the light with every movement, creating an ethereal glow around her. Intricate lace cascaded from her bodice, tracing delicate floral patterns across her figure.

Her hair was swept into an elegant updo, with soft tendrils left loose to frame her porcelain face. A priceless diamond necklace graced her collarbone, glittering against skin as smooth and fair as porcelain. Her eyes sparkled not only with the reflection of the chandeliers but with pure, unfiltered happiness. Clutching Han Zaijing’s arm, she leaned into her groom with sweet affection, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

Together, they formed a picture of perfection—the classic alpha-omega pairing. Han Zaijing’s composed, commanding presence balanced by Jiang Wan’s soft beauty and grace. Guests murmured in admiration, their union the subject of widespread awe and whispered envy. Students from Huaxin University—their alma mater—and partners from corporate collaborations queued to offer congratulations, their voices filled with praise and admiration. It was as though the entire nation had paused to witness this dazzling spectacle.

As the grand doors of the banquet hall opened, guests flowed in, greeted warmly by Mr. and Mrs. Jiang. The couple stood at the entrance with dignified smiles, their expressions a blend of joy, pride, and solemn responsibility. Mr. Jiang’s gaze occasionally drifted to his daughter with a subtle intensity—beneath the joy lay a father’s reluctance to let go. He knew what this union meant for the Jiang family—an unprecedented consolidation of power and status—but more than that, he simply saw his little girl stepping into a new life.

When the ceremonial music began, a hush fell over the hall. The guests found their seats, all eyes turning toward the center aisle, where Jiang Wan—resplendent and glowing—emerged, holding her father’s arm. Her steps were slow, deliberate, as though savoring each moment of this once-in-a-lifetime experience. Her gaze locked onto Han Zaijing, who waited at the altar, solemn and statuesque. Their eyes met across the distance, exchanging a silent promise.

Father Jiang, his voice tinged with emotion, placed Jiang Wan’s hand into Han Zaijing’s: “Zaijing, I entrust Wan’er to you. Please give her the happiness she deserves.”

“I will, Uncle Jiang,” Han Zaijing replied, her voice resolute, her grip on Jiang Wan’s hand tightening with assurance.

The ceremony proceeded with grandeur. As the officiant recited the wedding vows, a sacred hush fell over the room. When asked if she would love, honor, and protect Jiang Wan through all of life’s joys and hardships, Han Zaijing met her bride’s gaze and answered with unwavering conviction, “I do.”

Tears welled in Jiang Wan’s eyes when her turn came. Her voice, though soft, carried a resolute strength: “I do.”

They exchanged rings—symbols of eternity, of a love now made visible and tangible. As the bands slid onto their fingers, the hall erupted into applause. Thunderous claps, joyful cheers, and the shower of blessings echoed across the room. Guests rose to their feet, toasting the couple as the lights above glittered like stars. The two brides smiled radiantly, their faces glowing with joy. From this moment forward, they would walk the same path, facing life together.

Every detail of the wedding exuded thoughtfulness and extravagance. From the vintage champagne to the live string quartet, from the artful floral arrangements to the meticulous menu curated by Michelin-starred chefs—nothing was left to chance. It was a celebration of love but also a display of power, wealth, and influence.

Among the guests, seated at a corner table surrounded by investors, sat Jiang Shutong. Her usually composed and elegant expression was shadowed by melancholy. A flicker of sorrow flickered in her gaze every time her eyes returned to the couple at the center. Han Zaijing—once the object of her silent admiration—was now standing proudly beside another. She watched as Zaijing took Jiang Wan’s hand, the image burning into her mind like a cruel irony. Her heart ached with an invisible wound, and she felt like an outsider in a celebration that demanded her participation.

The noise of laughter and conversation around her sounded distant, almost muffled. Jiang Shutong’s chest tightened with the burden of unspoken love. She could no longer bear the stifling atmosphere. With a quiet excuse to those around her, she rose from her seat and slipped away, exiting to the terrace.

The night air hit her face like a balm, crisp and cool. Her long hair danced in the gentle breeze. She rested her hands on the railing and looked out over the glowing city skyline, her heart pounding with a mix of pain, longing, and resignation. Tears rimmed her eyes, though she blinked them back. She had cried enough in private—she would not allow herself to break down here.

Elsewhere, Jiang Nuan sat frozen, her thoughts spiraling. Her gaze was fixated on Han Zaijing, the woman who had shared a fleeting, unforgettable night with her. She recalled every detail—the tenderness, the stolen moments, the intensity of her gaze. To see her now, marrying her sister, was surreal. Her chest was tight with panic. What if someone found out? What if that secret came to light and shattered everything?

Her emotions churned in a tempest of fear, guilt, and reluctant yearning.

She slipped away from the hall as well, seeking solace in the hotel’s expansive garden. There, among manicured hedges and softly illuminated paths, she found a secluded bench. She sat with her hands trembling, staring at the moonlit pond and wrestling with the truth she dared not speak aloud.

It was on a winding garden path that she encountered Jiang Shutong.

Both women froze, surprised to find each other away from the crowd. Distant acquaintances by family connection and social status, they had always hovered on the edges of each other’s circles. Tonight, however, they stood alone—two proud women with hearts weighed down by private storms.

“Miss Jiang,” Jiang Shutong spoke first, her voice raspy yet composed, “what a coincidence.”

Jiang Nuan nodded, offering a strained smile. “Miss Jiang, I could say the same. Escaping the festivities?”

A moment of mutual understanding passed between them. There was no need to explain further. They were both here for the same reason: to breathe, to grieve, to escape.

Jiang Shutong reached into her handbag, pulling out a slender box of designer cigarettes. She offered one to Jiang Nuan. “I needed something to steady my nerves.”

Jiang Nuan accepted it, turning it between her fingers before lighting it. “Too many things tonight. It’s hard to breathe.”

They stood side by side beneath the trees, exhaling plumes of smoke into the night. Their silhouettes, framed by the silver glow of the moon, reflected shared vulnerability. For the first time, their conversation carried warmth and sincerity.

“I heard your last tour was a success,” Jiang Shutong said.
“I try to do my part,” Jiang Nuan replied. “But compared to you, Miss Jiang, the heir to your family’s empire… the future seems yours.”

Jiang Shutong’s lips curved into a bittersweet smile. “Titles can’t heal heartbreak.”

Jiang Nuan’s gaze softened. “True. We all wear masks, even when we’re alone.”

Their conversation drifted through career aspirations, family obligations, and the pressures of perfection. Beneath their cultivated exteriors lay women weary of expectations.

Eventually, Jiang Shutong stubbed out her cigarette and sighed. “It’s getting late. We should return.”

Jiang Nuan nodded. “Yes. I’m sure someone’s already noticed my absence.”

Side by side, they walked back toward the hotel, their steps unhurried. In the quiet of the garden, something intangible had passed between them—perhaps understanding, perhaps empathy, or perhaps the recognition of shared sorrow beneath their glossy façades.

Behind them, their cigarette smoke curled into the air, dissolving into the moonlight like secrets carried away by the wind.