CHAPTER 4

The registry office smelled faintly of paper and ink. It was plain and quiet.

Nothing like a wedding should be.

I stood beside Dominic, pen in hand, staring at the paper in front of me.

My name is already written. Everything is ready except my signature.

"Last chance," he said, his voice low and steady.

I didn't look at him. I can't look at him. I refused to let him see the slight hesitation in my eyes.

"You've said that already," I said.

"And you keep ignoring it," he retorted.

I let out a quiet breath. "Because I have already decided. There's no need for second thoughts," I said as my grip tightened on the pen.

"Sign it then."

Three words. Simple but final.

This was it. No grand ceremony. No vows. No audience, and most of all... no love.

It's just ink on a piece of paper, but somehow it's a decision that would change everything.

I signed.

The moment the pen left the paper, something shifted.

It was not loud nor dramatic, but rather real.

The clerk stamped the document. "Congratulations," she said as she looked at me and Dominic. "You are now legally married."

Married. Just like that.

I turned to look at Dominic and found him already looking at me.

Not warm. Not soft. It's just... certain.

"Let's go," he said.

There was no hesitation in his voice at all. No pause either. It's as if this is just another transaction.

And maybe... it really is just a transaction.

The gates of the Hemenez mansion didn't just open—they parted like something out of reach.

Tall. Black. Imposing.

Just like the man sitting beside me.

I didn't look at Dominic. I kept my gaze forward as the car rolled in, my reflection staring back at me through the tinted window.

"Last chance to back out," he said, breaking the silence with a calm, almost bored tone.

"You already gave me that chance," I said.

"And yet, you still chose the harder path."

"I don't take easy ones. It's boring."

The car stopped.

I bit my lower lip, my heart pounding. This is it.

This is really it.

A servant quickly opened the door, bowing slightly.

"Welcome home, Sir."

Home.

The word echoed in my head as I stepped out.

The mansion stood tall in front of me. Grand, elegant, and untouchable.

The kind of place built not just with money, but with power.

And now, I was expected to belong here.

My heels clicked against the marble floor as we entered.

Every step felt louder than it should.

The staff lined up, their eyes flickering between me and Dominic.

Curious. Judging. Silent.

"Prepare the master bedroom. I want my wife comfortable," Dominic said without looking at them.

Wife. Master bedroom.

My heartbeat picked up its pace.

Not guestroom. Not separate.

Of course he would do that. It's one of the signs that this is real. That the marriage is real.

It screams control, image, and consistency.

Everything about this man was calculated.

We barely made it halfway through the hall when a voice cut through the air.

Sharp. Familiar. Furious.

"What the hell is this?"

My steps stopped.

My chest tightened a little. Not because I missed him, but because a part of me remembered how I used to feel whenever he's around.

All the pain and betrayal came rushing back to me when I heard his voice.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

But I did anyway.

Francis.

He stood at the foot of the stairs, his expression twisted in disbelief and anger.

His eyes landed on me—and everything in his face changed.

Shock. Recognition. Rage. It was all written on his face.

"You—" his voice broke, like he couldn't even process what he was seeing.

Then his gaze shifted to Dominic. His father.

"What is she doing here?"

Dominic didn't answer immediately. He just adjusted his cuff, calm as ever.

"She lives here now," he said. Simple and final.

Francis let out a laugh. "You're joking. You're messing with me."

No one moved. No one spoke.

Then, without emotion, Dominic spoke.

"She's my wife."

The words landed like a slap. I saw it—the exact moment it hit him.

"No." He shook his head, stepping forward. "No, that's not funny. What kind of sick joke is this?"

"It's not a joke," I said.

His eyes snapped back to me. "You don't get to speak."

"And you don't get to tell me what to do anymore," I retorted.

That only made it worse. His jaw clenched. "You think this is some kind of game? You think marrying him—my dad—changes everything?"

"No, I don't think. I know so. I know that it changes everything."

The air between us turned sharp. Dangerous.

"You're unbelievable," he muttered, his jaw clenched. "After everything—"

"After everything?" I cut in smoothly.

"You lost the right to talk about 'everything' the moment you chose someone else."

"Don't twist this—"

"I don't need to. You did that yourself."

Everything went still.

Until Dominic stepped forward.

"Enough."

One word, and it ended everything.

That's the kind of power he holds. The kind of power my husband holds.

"We are not done, Lilary. You think this ends here? We're still together until I say so," Francis said with venom.

"This conversation is over," Dominic said calmly.

Francis let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair.

His eyes returned to me one last time.

Dark. Fuming. Burning with rage.

I held his gaze. "You don't get to threaten me anymore, Francis," I said calmly.

I paused and tilted my head slightly. "Or did you forget?" I added softly.

His brows furrowed.

"I'm not the woman you can lie to, betray, and come back to whenever it's convenient."

I stepped closer.

"I'm your stepmother now, after all."

Silence. A sharp, heavy, suffocating silence.

I watched the exact moment the words sank into him.

His jaw tightened and his hands curled into fists.

"No, don't say it like that," his voice was low and dangerous.

But I didn't stop. Not this time. Not when I have this kind of privilege.

"You don't have authority over me anymore. If anything..." I paused just to push him further.

"You should start learning your place."

"Watch your mouth!" he snapped, his control finally cracking.

"You think a piece of paper makes you untouchable? You think hiding behind my father's name is going to protect you?"

A pause.

Just then, Dominic's voice echoed.

“It will,” Dominic said calmly.

Not loud. Not raised. But final.

His gaze flickered to me for a second, as if he was reassessing the woman he just married.

Francis went still.

"Because that name is mine," he continued, his gaze sharp as it settled on his son.

"And I decide who it protects."

I didn't move nor step back.

I didn't break eye contact.

I smiled at him.

"That piece of paper is exactly why you can't do anything to me anymore."

For a moment, no one moved.

Then, I turned my back on him first and followed Dominic.

I didn't look back.

Because this time, I wasn't the one being left behind.

I was the one walking away.