Hermione

Hermione drove herself to the marriage registry the next morning, her expression blank and unreadable.

“Hermione! Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” Her father’s furious voice exploded through the phone. “What is thus nonsense I’m hearing? Your fiancé is with another woman? Aren’t you ashamed? You couldn’t even keep a man after years of dating. If you knew he liked models, why didn’t you eat less and maintain your figure? He must have been repulsed.”

She closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her.

No matter what she did, she was never enough for this man. It was either she was too tall — men preferred petite women, or she was overweight, despite weighing less than fifty kilograms. To him, she was always lacking. Her efforts didn’t matter.

What did the media call her again? Spoiled Windsor heiress. If only they knew.

“You remember our deal, right?” Robert continued. “Come home immediately. I’m already arranging a meeting with—“

“No.”

The word left her lips cold and steady.

“What did you just say? Did you just interrupt me, young lady?”

She swallowed, forcing her voice not to shake. “I’m getting married today. You don’t need to arrange anything.”

“To who?” He scoffed. “You couldn’t even hold onto a man after five years. Who would marry you now? Stop acting out and come back home before I have Tony drag you back.”

Tony was her cousin who her father had chosen has his successor instead of her. Her father didn’t care if he was eligible or not, but since he was a boy, it was fine. Fortunately, Tony was smart. And fortunately for her, he was not a heartless monster like her father.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll send proof of my marriage once I’m done.” She said.

Silence stretched between them as if he were weighing his options. Then he spoke again, his tone sharp. “You have until the end of today. Otherwise—”

“I understand.”

She ended the call and exhaled slowly.

Soon, she pulled up in front of the marriage registry. Before stepping out, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror.

She had taken her time getting ready that morning. Her blonde hair was styled flawlessly, her makeup immaculate. Instead of a wedding gown, she wore a white slick backless dress, elegant, simple, and fitting. The marriage might have been unexpected, but she refused to look anything less than perfect.

She slipped on her shades and stepped out.

Rhys was already waiting at the entrance, his posture straight, his expression indifferent as ever. Not a flicker crossed his face when she stopped in front of himS

“Exactly eight o’ clock, just like you said,” she smiled faintly. “Shall we, Mr. Huxley?”

He gave her a brief once-over before turning toward the building.

The process was swift. Signatures. Witnesses. Stamps. Just like that, it was done.

They stepped outside with a marriage certificate in hand. Hermione immediately took a picture and sent it to her father, relief flooding her chest. For the first time in her life, she was free from his grasp.

“I expect you to move in as soon as possible,” Rhys said.

She nodded. “Of course. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go. Don’t worry, I’m not running away.”

Her movers were already packing her belongings as they spoke.

“I’ll need your number,” she said, holding out her phone.

He glanced at it, a flicker of emotion passing his face briefly. “You already have it.”

She blinked, confused. Then her eyes widened as she slowly retracted her hand in surprise.

“You still use the same number from high school?”

After a brief silence, he muttered,

“Yes.” He turned toward his car. “I’ll send you the address. I’m heading to the office.”

With that, he drove off.

Hermione watched his car go, her expression complicated.

Rhys Huxley.

This marriage was nothing more than a weapon to him, but she wasn’t weak anymore. She refused to let another man make a fool of her. She wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of watching her fall again.

She turned back to her car. She still had to finish packing her bags at her apartment. She wasn’t able to do much last night after drinking.

Her phone rang. It was Cole.

Irritation flashed through her eyes before she answered.

“Hermione! What’s gotten into you? The wedding planner said you cancelled the venue. You cancelled our wedding!” He demanded.

Hermione snickered.

“Mr. Sterling, I should have been walking down the aisle by now. And you’re only realizing the wedding is off? So if it had gone ahead, you would’ve left me standing at the altar.”

“What? Of course not,” he said quickly. “I’m just running late because Adriana overslept. She wanted to attend the ceremony and spent all night shopping for the perfect dress. We were already on our way.”

Hermione couldn’t believe Cole’s shamelessness. Disgust filled her knowing she’d stuck by his side for so long without barfing.

“You spend the night before your wedding with another woman, and even wait for her to finish sleeping before inquiring about your fiancée. And she spent the whole night shopping? Really? Do you take me as a fool?” She spat, coldly.

Cole sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re upset about the articles online. There’s nothing between me and Adriana. Stop throwing tantrums and come to the venue. It’s not too late.”

“I don’t car about your relationship with Adriana,” Hermione said. “And the wedding is cancelled.”

“You can’t do that! We spent so much money. What about your father? It’s either me or he marries you off!”

Hermione smiled.

“You’re not the only man in the world. I’ve already handled my father. I’ll reimburse everything you spent. From now on, you don’t need to concern yourself with me, Mr. Sterling. I wish you a happy life.”

She hung up.

Immediately, she transferred the money he spent on the wedding to his account. When his calls and messages kept flooding in, she blocked him without hesitation.

The media woild catch wind of the cancelled wedding soon enough. Before the storm hit, she wanted to be settled in her new home.

She returned to the apartment, supervised the movers, packed the rest of her belongings, and headed to the address Rhys had sent.

After confirming her identity at the gates, the guards opened them promptly. Rhys had already informed them of her coming in advance.

She drove down a long, winding road surrounded by manicured lawns, flower fields, and sculpted gardens stretching as far as the eyes could see.

At the end of the path stood the mansion.

The estate was breathtaking, an elegant fusion of modern glass architecture and classical stonework. Tall pillars framed the entrance, ivy climbing gracefully along the walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the sky, while fountains flanked the driveway, their soft sounds adding to the air of quiet wealth.

This was the kind of home that didn’t need to announce status. It embodied it. Hermione couldn’t explain it, but she also felt a sense of familiarity looking at it.

A line of security personnel and servants stood at attention, waiting near the entrance. Hermione paused, slightly startled by the formal welcome.

A woman stepped forward.

“Welcome, Mrs Huxley.”

The title felt foreign on her ears.

“My name is Eunice,” the woman continued. “I’m the head housekeeper. I’ll show you to your room while your things are moved in.”

“Thank you,” Hermione nodded, following her inside.

“Would you like to bathe first or eat, Madam? The chef can prepare something immediately.”

“I’ll take a bath first, please.” Hermione said gratefully. Looking around the house, she asked, masking her nervousness, “Will I be sharing a room with my husband?”

Eunice hesitated. “Mr. Huxley prepared a private suite for you, but adjustments can be made—“

“That won’t be necessary. The suite will do.” Hermione said quickly.

Eunice nodded and led her to the room before excusing herself.

Hermione stepped inside, and froze.

The suite was vast and breathtaking, decorated in soft neutral accents that she preferred. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the gardens, and a private sitting area completed the space.

Her old apartment didn’t compare. This was on an entirely different level.

She sat on the edge of the bed, inhaled deeply, then reached for her phone. Scrolling to Rhys’s contact, she dialed, intending to inform him she had arrived.