Their sleek black car waited at the entrance, engine humming softly. The chauffeur opened the door with a bow, and Avery slid in first, crossing her legs elegantly. Silas joined her inside, adjusting the cuffs of his tux.
The moment the car began to move, Avery turned to him.
"Is the media going to be there?"
Silas blinked. The question was out of nowhere, but her tone was calm, calculated.
"Yes?" he answered, unsure why it came out like a question.
She sighed lightly and turned to face the tinted window, her tone smooth and deliberate. "I just wanted to say—I don't want our pictures taken. And if they do take them, I don't want them published."
Silas frowned, leaning slightly toward her. "Why?"
She finally looked at him, eyes unreadable. "Because I don't want this marriage to be known to the media."
That answer pierced deeper than he expected.
