Chapter Two

Adrian's Pov

“Don’t do this, man. You’ll regret it.”

I grabbed Marco’s arm as he stumbled toward the neon-lit chapel doors. His shirt was half unbuttoned, his tie hanging like a dead snake around his neck, and his grin screamed trouble. He was drunk, and not the fun kind.

“Adrian, let me live!” he laughed, shoving me off. “She loves me.”

“She’s a stripper you met three hours ago,” I snapped, yanking him back. “This isn’t love. This is Vegas. Big difference.”

Marco groaned, tossing his head back at the glowing sign: Forever After Weddings – Open 24 Hours. His glassy eyes softened. “Maybe this is what I need. Something crazy. Something real.”

I sighed. I’d heard this tone before, every time he crashed into another bad decision and usually, I cleaned up the mess afterward. But tonight, I was already exhausted.

My mom’s medicine was overdue. The bills were stacked higher than my fridge. I had two jobs and no future and instead of sleeping or working, I was babysitting Marco on the worst night possible.

I tightened my grip on his arm. “You don’t even know her last name.”

Marco smirked. “Neither do half the couples in there. That’s the fun.”

I wanted to argue more, but that’s when the doors to the chapel burst open.

A tall man stormed out, tuxedo jacket undone, tie ripped from his neck. His face was all sharp lines and storm clouds, the kind of man you instantly recognized from magazines or billboards. His hair was dark, slicked back, but strands had fallen loose like he’d torn his hands through it.

He looked expensive, dangerous and broken.

I blinked. Wait, no way.

Soren Knight.

The name slammed into me before my brain caught up. Knight Enterprises. The empire that owned half the skyscrapers in Las Vegas. The heir to billions. The man my mother cursed whenever his company bought out another neighborhood block.

What the hell was he doing here?

His eyes were bloodshot, his steps uneven, like he’d drowned himself in whiskey. Still, even wasted, he radiated control. Like he could crush the whole world under his heel if he wanted.

He stopped at the edge of the curb, ripping at his bowtie like it offended him. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, voice low but sharp. “She ran.”

I froze.

Marco whispered, “Is that, holy shit, it is. Dude, that’s Soren Knight.”

I wanted to drag Marco away, but the universe had other plans. Because at that exact moment, Marco lunged forward, almost face-planting into the street.

I caught him, but the sudden shove made me stumble, right into Soren Knight.

His shoulder was solid as stone, and his eyes snapped to mine like daggers.

“Watch where you’re going.” His voice was gravel, deep and laced with venom.

“Sorry,” I muttered quickly, steadying Marco.

But Marco, the idiot that he was, pointed and grinned. “You’re Soren Knight! The billionaire whose bride ditched him!”

I swear the entire street went silent.

Soren’s jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might break. His gaze turned on me again, sharper this time, like maybe I was responsible for Marco’s words.

I raised my hands. “He’s drunk. Ignore him.”

Soren studied me, his eyes flicking over my cheap shirt, the scuffed sneakers, the calloused hands. I could almost hear his judgment: poor, nobody, nothing and maybe I should’ve backed away. But instead, I stared right back. Because yeah, I was poor. But I wasn’t invisible.

“Who are you?” he asked, his tone almost curious now.

“Adrian Vega.”

That was it, no title no power. Just me.

He smirked bitterly. “Of course. Vegas.” He tilted his head at the chapel. “Seems fitting.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Marriage,” he said simply, almost mocking. “You’re in Vegas, Vega. Isn’t that what people do here?”

I rolled my eyes. “Not me.”

“Why not?” His voice challenged me, testing.

I wanted to say because marriage actually means something to me. Because I’d grown up watching my parents fight, then my dad leave, and my mom struggle alone. Because I promised myself I’d only marry for love, not convenience.

But instead, I just muttered, “Because I’m not drunk enough to be stupid.”

Something flashed in his eyes, anger, pain, maybe both. He stepped closer, his cologne sharp and expensive, and I realized he was the kind of man who crushed people for sport.

“Maybe stupid is what I need right now,” he said softly.

Before I could reply, Marco stumbled between us, laughing. “Yes! That’s what I’m saying. We should all just get married! What’s the worst that could happen?”

I groaned, dragging him back. “Marco, shut up…..”

But Soren’s gaze locked on me again, not Marco. Me.

“You,” he said, voice cutting through the night like a blade. “Marry me.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

He smirked, like he knew exactly how insane it sounded. “You heard me. One night. One mistake. You said you’re not drunk enough to be stupid, so let’s test that theory.”

My heart jumped into my throat. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. His voice dropped lower, dangerous and raw. “But I need this. Right now. And you’re standing here. So what do you say?”

I stared at him, searching for a joke. But there was none. Just cold fury in his eyes, the kind you only get when your whole world collapses.

“No way,” I said firmly, shaking my head.

But then Marco cheered, clapping me on the back. “Do it, Adrian! You’ll be rich!”

I shoved him off, glaring. “This isn’t funny.”

Soren’s smirk vanished. His expression hardened, turning icy. “You’re right. It’s not funny. It’s necessary.”

His words hit heavier than I expected. Like this wasn’t about me at all, it was about him proving something, even if it was reckless.

I should’ve walked away. But something about the way he looked at me, like I was the only person in the world not afraid of him, made me hesitate.

And then the chapel doors opened again. The officiant popped his head out, smiling. “Another ceremony? We’re open all night.”

Soren’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “Well?”

My heart pounded in my chest. I didn’t belong in his world. I didn’t even belong in this conversation and yet… part of me wanted to see what happened if I said yes.

I swallowed hard. “You’re serious?”

His lips curved into a cold smile. “Deadly.”

And for the first time that night, I realized just how dangerous one word from me could be.

“Say yes, Adrian,” Soren murmured, his voice a dare, his eyes burning into mine.