Chapter 10

Meanwhile, Avan sat in his car, about to enter his house, when he saw the news of Laura’s wedding. Rage flared inside him. He never intended to marry her, but he didn’t want to lose her either. He stormed into the house, dialing her number.

“Avan!” a voice called. He spun and saw Clara at his doorstep. Panic shot through him—he dragged her inside quickly and locked the door.

“Are you insane? What are you doing here?” he barked.

“Yes, I’m insane. Only a stupid woman would stay sane after hearing her boyfriend is marrying someone else!” Clara shouted.

“What nonsense are you talking about? Did she say she’s marrying me?” Avan shot back, stalking into the living room. Clara trailed after him.

“Who else would she marry, if not you?” Clara asked, confused.

“I don’t know who she’s marrying. I have no idea what goes on in her brain,” Avan muttered, frustrated.

Clara’s anger softened. She sat beside him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Do you know who it might be?”

She shook her head when he looked at her. Even the person assigned to update her about the wedding only sent vague messages.

“Maybe she’s just trying to force you into marrying her at the ceremony,” Clara said cautiously.

“She’s not that type,” Avan hissed. “I’m sure she’s been cheating on me. That’s the man she’s marrying.”

Clara frowned but said nothing.

“I’ll never let the wedding happen,” Avan growled, his face twisted in fury.

Clara’s lips curled into a small, hopeful smile.

“Why not forget her and marry me? Your dad won’t stay angry forever. Just tell him she cheated on you.”

Avan scoffed. “Laura’s so gullible she hasn’t even noticed I’ve been unfaithful all along. Who would believe she cheated?”

He clenched his fists.

“No. I won’t allow this wedding. Even if I have to steal the bride, she belongs to me.”

Clara shivered at his words, but when he pulled her closer for a kiss, she didn’t resist.

His hands grew rough, tearing at her clothes. She gave in, even as she realized bitterly—his thoughts were still on Laura.

Laura receives a call from Chris, asking her to meet him at a location near her company. She takes a taxi, her heart uneasy, and finds him waiting in his car.

Without many words, she slips inside, clutching her purse, and they head together toward the marriage bureau.

When they step out of the car, Laura grips her purse tightly, her palms clammy with nervous sweat.

The official building looms in front of them, simple yet imposing, and suddenly the weight of what they are about to do presses heavily on her chest.

“Why don’t we come back after the wedding?” Laura suggests, her voice low, betraying her doubt. This feels too quick, too final.

Last night, after Avan stormed out, she had called Chris in anger and desperation, telling him she agreed to his proposal.

Surprisingly, he had only said “okay” before ending the call.

In the morning, they had met in a café, calm and businesslike, to outline the terms of their marriage.

Laura needs the contract to keep her company stable, to secure her position, to prevent the board from using her gender against her.

With the shield of a powerful husband, she won’t be easy prey for those waiting to intimidate her.

“Why? Are you scared?” Chris asks. His tone is calm, almost casual, as if this whole thing is nothing unusual to him.

Laura studies him, baffled. Why would a man like Chris, who could have any woman he wanted, agree to a contractual marriage with her? The question lingers on her tongue, but she swallows it. Some things are better left unasked.

“I’m not scared,” she says instead.

“I just don’t think it’s polite to register now, only to come back in a few months and annul everything. It feels… wrong. Maybe we should just have a small wedding ceremony first.”

Chris tilts his head slightly, unreadable.

“It’s fine if you want to back out,” he replies coolly. “We can pretend this never happened.” He turns to leave, his long strides carrying him away, but Laura panics.

“No—wait!” She rushes forward, grabbing his arm. “Let’s register it, then.” Her voice comes out sulky, like a child forced to do something she dislikes.

Chris, however, doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction. He simply pulls away and marches inside.

As they enter, a newly married couple bumps into them, beaming with joy.

“Oh! Sorry,” the bride says cheerfully.

“Are you two getting married as well?”

Laura and Chris remain silent, stiff.

“Or… getting divorced?” the groom asks, raising a brow at their silence.

Laura forces a smile, masking her discomfort.

“No, we’d have to be married first before getting divorced.”

The woman laughs.

“Then you are getting married, aren’t you, Miss Laura?”

Laura blinks in surprise. “I am,” she answers quickly, grabbing Chris’s hand and pulling him deeper inside.

Few minutes later, they emerge with a crisp marriage certificate in hand.

Laura stares at the document as if it might burn through her fingers.

“Would you like me to drive you back?” Chris offers casually. Before she can respond, he plucks the certificate from her grip.

“What are you doing?” she snaps, her voice sharp.

“I don’t want you to ruin it or lose it,” he teases lightly, though his expression remains unreadable.

Laura rolls her eyes, annoyance bubbling.

"Bye. I’ll get back to work now,” she mutters, flagging down a cab before he can stop her.

Chris watches her leave, a strange heaviness in his chest. After a few minutes, he slips into his own car. His phone rings. His mother. He hesitates before answering.

“Where are you?” she demands the moment he picks up.

“I’m out,” he replies evenly.

“I just met with Mira’s mother. She’s thrilled that you and Mira are finally tying the knot.

Don’t worry, I’ll handle all the wedding arrangements. You don’t have to do a thing, just be present.” Her voice is animated, self-assured.

Chris exhales, leaning back in his seat.

“Mum, I’m married.”

Silence stretches on the other end.

“What do you mean you’re married? To who? When?” Her voice rises, sharp with disbelief.

“I will introduce her soon,” Chris answers calmly. “We registered today.”

The rebuke that follows is long and fierce, his mother’s anger pouring through the line until she finally hangs up, demanding he come see her immediately.

Almost instantly, his phone buzzes again. Mira. He ignores the call, turns on his music, and presses harder on the accelerator.

For the first time in a long while, Chris feels relief.

His sudden marriage will shield him from his mother’s endless schemes with Mira, and more importantly, it will keep Mira from clinging to him, spying on his every move. He dials Josh.

“To what do I owe this august call?” Josh teases when he answers.

“Let’s grab a drink,” Chris says bluntly.

“What? Did I just hear right? Chris Hugh calling for a drink in the middle of the day? Have I lived long enough to hear this?” Josh laughs, genuinely shocked.

“I’ll take care of the bill,” Chris cuts in dryly.

Josh chuckles.

“Now I know something’s up. What’s the occasion? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“I got married,” Chris says flatly.

“What!” Josh nearly chokes on his own breath.