Chapter Three

Chapter Three 

 Soren's Pov 

“Do you have the guts to marry me, or are you just another coward?”

The words left my mouth before I could stop them. I didn’t recognize myself anymore. My head was pounding, my chest hollow, but my voice cut sharp. I wanted him to back down. I wanted him to walk away like everyone else did.

But Adrian Vega didn’t move.

His eyes burned into mine, not with fear, not with greed, but with something worse, hesitation. As if he was weighing the cost, as if my life wasn’t already wreckage.

The chapel lights flickered above us. The officiant, an old man with thinning hair and a cheap suit, leaned against the doorframe. He grinned like he’d seen this scene a thousand times before. “Well, gentlemen? We’re open all night.”

I turned back to Adrian. His friend Marco was practically falling over himself, laughing and cheering. “Do it, Adrian! Come on! You’ll thank me later!”

Adrian hissed at him to shut up. Then his gaze locked on me again.

“You’re serious,” he whispered.

I took a step closer, ignoring the sway in my head from too much whiskey. “Deadly.”

For a moment, I thought he’d walk away. But then something shifted in his face. stubbornness. A fire, The kind I knew too well because it lived in me.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s do it.”

The officiant clapped his hands. “Wonderful! Right this way.”

I didn’t think. I just followed, dragging Adrian with me.

The chapel smelled like roses dipped in cheap perfume. The carpet was worn, the walls lined with fake flowers. A plastic arch stood at the front, draped in fairy lights. It was pathetic, a joke compared to the empire I’d been raised in.

And maybe that was why I stayed. Because everything I knew, everything I was supposed to be, was already in flames. What was one more match?

Adrian shifted beside me, muttering under his breath. “This is insane.”

“Back out, then,” I said coldly, fixing my cufflinks even though I’d already ripped my jacket half open.

He shot me a glare. “Don’t tempt me.”

The officiant cleared his throat. “Stand here, please.” He pointed at the altar.

I stood tall, as I’d been taught since childhood. Adrian fidgeted, his sneakers squeaking against the floor. We were polar opposites, side by side, under fake roses.

“Do you have rings?” the officiant asked cheerfully.

I almost laughed. “No.”

Adrian shrugged. “Got a coin?”

We both dug through our pockets until Adrian pulled out a bent silver band keychain. He slipped the ring off and handed it over.

“Perfect,” the officiant said, like this was normal.

My throat tightened. This wasn’t normal. This was chaos. But I let it happen.

The officiant began his lines, voice monotone, eyes half-asleep. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here tonight…”

My mind blurred. I saw flashes of Celeste’s cold smile as she walked out of the ballroom earlier. My father’s fury burned into my skull. The reporters snapped photos. The whispers: The Knight heir abandoned, weak. A failure.

And now here I am. Standing beside a broke stranger who smelled faintly of soap and smoke.

“Do you, Soren Knight, take Adrian Vega..”

“Yes.” My voice cut through before he even finished.

Adrian’s head whipped toward me, eyes wide. “You could at least wait,” he hissed.

The officiant chuckled nervously and turned. “Do you, Adrian Vega, take Soren Knight…”

There was silence. Adrian’s jaw clenched. His eyes darted to Marco, who was swaying in the back pew, waving his arms like an idiot. Then his gaze met mine.

“Yes,” he said finally.

The officiant smiled. “By the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada, I now pronounce you…”

I didn’t wait. I grabbed Adrian by the back of the neck and kissed him.

It wasn’t soft, wasn’t romantic. It was a punishment.

His lips parted in shock, but instead of pulling away, he shoved back, kissing me with sharp anger. For a moment, heat flared, drowning the fury. His grip on my shirt tightened, and mine dug into his jaw.

The officiant clapped. Marco cheered. The world blurred and then it was done.

We broke apart, both breathless, both glaring.

“There you have it,” the officiant said brightly. “Husband and husband.”

The words hung heavy.

I turned away first, fixing my jacket with stiff fingers. Adrian’s chest was rising fast, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Happy now?” he muttered.

I didn’t answer. Because I wasn’t. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t anything but raw, hollow rage.

“Come on,” I said, marching toward the door.

Adrian blinked. “Where are we going?”

“To deal with the fallout.”

Because I already knew. The paparazzi, investors. My father.

This wasn’t going to stay in Vegas.

When we stepped outside, the night air slapped me. Bright flashes exploded instantly, blinding. Reporters swarmed, shouting my name, cameras flashing.

“Mr. Knight! Who’s your husband?”

“Why did Celeste leave?”

“Is this your revenge?”

Adrian froze beside me, eyes wide. “What the hell…”

I grabbed his hand without thinking, locking us together as the crowd pressed closer. “Smile.”

He turned to me, panicked. “What?”

“Smile,” I repeated, through clenched teeth. “If we don’t, they’ll eat us alive.”

Flashes went off again, brighter, faster. Our joined hands, his face, my suit.

Adrian swallowed, then forced the weakest smile I’d ever seen.

It was enough. The reporters roared louder, the questions came out sharper. 

I squeezed his hand tighter. My lips barely moved as I leaned toward him, whispering into his ear so only he could hear.

“You’re in my world now, Vega and trust me, there’s no way out.”