Chapter 3: Midnight at the Courthouse

POV: Elena Carter

"Deal."

The single word hung in the amber-lit lounge.

I stared at the stranger, convinced I had misheard him. I had expected laughter, mockery, or someone calling security. I certainly hadn't expected him to agree to marry a complete stranger without hesitation.

He's bluffing, I thought, my heart pounding. He has to be joking.

The man reached into his bespoke suit jacket and pulled out a sleek black phone. His icy grey eyes remained fixed on mine as he dialed a number.

"Derrick, bring the Maybach to the private entrance. Cancel my board meeting and contact the city magistrate. I want the central courthouse opened within thirty minutes. Arrange an emergency marriage registration."

My jaw dropped.

"And have a witness ready. We'll sign in less than an hour."

He ended the call and stood, towering over the table. He finished his drink and set the glass down.

"Let's go."

"Hold on!" I scrambled out of my chair, grabbing my purse. "Are you out of your goddamn mind? I was venting! I proposed because I was pissed off, and you're actually calling a magistrate at midnight?"

He turned to face me, his expression unreadable.

"You sat at my table, stated your terms, and demanded marriage. I accepted." His voice was calm, almost cold. "I don't play games, sweetheart. If you're a coward who can't stand by her own words, step aside. Otherwise, follow me."

Coward?

Kevin had humiliated me enough for one night. I wasn't about to let another arrogant man question my courage.

"I'm not a fucking coward," I snapped.

"Then walk."

He headed toward the private elevator.

I followed.

By the time we reached the basement garage, a massive, obsidian-black Maybach was waiting near the exit. A sharply dressed man stood beside the open rear door.

"Sir, the magistrate is preparing the registry office," he reported, bowing slightly. "Everything should be ready shortly."

"Okay, Derrick."

The stranger gestured for me to enter first.

I swallowed my nerves and slid into the leather seat. He followed, and the door closed with a heavy thud, shutting us inside a world of expensive cologne and suffocating tension.

As the car glided into the rain-soaked streets, I stared at my reflection in the window.

What the hell am I doing?

I was heading to a courthouse at midnight to marry a man whose name I didn't even know. It was reckless, possibly the stupidest decision of my life.

Yet beneath the panic, a dark satisfaction stirred.

Tomorrow, Kevin would expect me to be crying over his betrayal. Instead, I'd be married to a man who looked capable of making him regret every second of it.

Kevin and my backstabbing best friend no longer mattered.

Thirty minutes later, the Maybach stopped beside the municipal courthouse. The imposing stone building stood dark beneath the rain, its side entrance illuminated by a few lights.

Derrick opened the door and held an umbrella over us as we stepped outside.

Two officials waited beyond the entrance. The moment they saw the man beside me, they bowed nervously.

"M-Mr. Blackwell. Everything is ready in the registry room," one of them stammered. "The certificates are prepared for signing."

"Lead the way."

We followed them down a marble hallway into a spacious room, where a middle-aged magistrate stood behind an oak desk. Marriage documents bearing official seals lay neatly before him.

"Please, step forward," he said, adjusting his glasses. "Once the documents are signed and entered into the state registry, your marriage will become legally binding."

He placed two fountain pens on the desk.

I approached the documents, my gaze settling on the blank spaces reserved for our names.

This is really happening.

For a moment, my fingers trembled. I forced myself to steady them, unwilling to reveal my uncertainty.

Then I signed.

Elena Carter.

The stranger took the pen from me. His fingers brushed mine briefly before he leaned over the desk and signed his name with decisive strokes.

I glanced at the signature.

Adrian Blackwell.

The name meant nothing to me, but the officials' nervous reactions suddenly seemed worth remembering.

The magistrate stamped the documents and slid two leather-bound marriage booklets across the desk.

"By the authority vested in me by the state, you are legally husband and wife."

I stared at the golden lettering on the booklet in my hands.

Mrs. Blackwell.

I was married.

No one in my family knew. Kevin certainly didn't. By tomorrow morning, the news would turn their world upside down.

I turned toward my new husband.

Adrian Blackwell buttoned his suit jacket, his icy grey eyes settling on me with quiet amusement.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Blackwell," he murmured, a faint smirk touching his lips. "Welcome to my world."