Hermione

Hermione sat at the small table in the middle of the garden, the evening air cool against her skin. Rhys’s mansion was something out of a fairytale book. She’d settled there hours ago, letting the quiet wrap around her.

Since morning, her phone hadn’t stopped buzzing with messages from people demanding to know what had happened to her wedding with Cole. She’d given them the same answer every time.

Called off.

The news outlets wasted no time. Headlines spread like wildfire, twisted for maximum drama.

[Run away bride? Windsor Heiress cancels wedding over the return of fiancée high school sweetheart.]

[From Bride to Bystander: Heiress Abandons Wedding Amid First Love Controversy.]

[Dumped Before ‘I Do’: Heiress Flees Wedding as Fiancé Reconnects With Childhood Crush.]

Hermione had to give it to them. They were good. It wasn’t even a day yet and the gossip sites were buzzing. The public ran with it, branding her petty and dramatic. Some celebrated, thanking for finally stepping aside for ‘true love’ to prevail.

Adriana had taken to the internet too. She made a video with tears, insisting she’d never meant to break them apart. Two-faced bitch. Throughout Hermione’s relationship with Cole, Adriana had never stopped sending threats and instigated conflicts for her to let Cole go.

Hermione had once been willing to swallow her pride and bear the humiliation. Thankfully, she no longer had a reason to.

She was done worrying about how the world saw her. She wanted a quiet life now, assuming Rhys would allow it. She doubted he would, not with the simmering hatred between them. Still… she was grateful.

‘If not for him…’ the thought made her shudder.

Her father, at least, had been pleased when she sent the marriage certificate. Why wouldn’t he? Rhys Huxley was one of the richest men in the country. Compared to him, Cole Sterling was like a speck of dust. In her father’s eyes, she’d struck gold.

The sound of a car pulling up broke her thoughts. Hermione closed her laptop and sat straighter as Rhys approached through the garden.

She hadn’t expected him home so soon. After he’d hung up on her abruptly earlier, she’d assumed he wouldn’t return tonight. This was a marriage of convenience after all and their reason for their union was nothing less than tragic. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he spent tonight tangled up in the arms of another woman just to piss her off. Ultimately, she didn’t really have high hopes. Rightfully so.

Her stomach tightened as he stopped in front of her.

“You’re home.” She said quietly.

His expression remained unreadable as he took the seat opposite her. “What are you doing out here?” He asked.

“Taking in the scenery,” she replied, sliding the laptop aside. Then, after a brief pause, she added softly, “I’d like to thank you for this. My dad was quite pleased when he saw the marriage certificate.”

Rhys’s eyes narrowed slightly. “He was?” He said, almost like a question. Then, he chuckled. “Well, how the tables have turned.” Hermione frowned, not understanding what he meant. He didn’t elaborate and continued, “Don’t thank me just yet. This is only the beginning.”

He sighed, glancing around before saying, “We will be visiting my family tomorrow. Be prepared. They’re eager to meet you.”

Hermione blinked, caught off guard. She’d half-expected him to marry her and tuck her away somewhere as punishment, somewhere out of sight. She hadn’t anticipated being paraded in public, much less introduced to his parents.

“Why?” She blurted out before she could stop herself. When he cocked a brow, she added, “Do you want me to meet them?”

He shrugged. “Why not? You are my wife now.”

‘He did say this marriage was for life. He wasn’t joking.’ She thought bitterly.

He added, “It’s not like you haven’t met them before. Don’t be nervous. They haven’t changed much.”

Rhys was right. Hermione had met his parents before. They had been kind and warm to her, a picture perfect family with a son and a daughter. Back then, they had just come across new money and were only just stepping into the elite society. They had moved into a new neighborhood and were pushing their teenagers to socialize.

In school, Rhys had been the quiet boy with glasses, always avoiding people like a plague. He’d fascinated her then, those green eyes hidden behind thick frames he didn’t need, watching everything, saying nothing.

She recalled the day she first approached him in the secluded part of the library. He couldn’t meet her eyes after she saw a glimpse of his maths test paper. There was a bold, red F on the sheet. He’d failed… woefully, and she laughed until he broke out a small smile.

That Rhys no longer existed now. In his place stood the cold, unyielding man before her, and it was partially her fault.

“Okay,” she said softly.

She wanted him to stay, to sit, to say something more, but he rose abruptly, already turning to leave. Before he could walk away, she spoke, her voice steady despite the tightness in her chest.

“It’s our wedding night. Don’t you want me to warm your bed?” She asked shamelessly. Between them, there was no shame left. Whatever boundaries once existed had been shattered long ago.

He turned, one brow lifting in faint amusement.

“Are you that eager?” He asked. “What’s your plan? To get pregnant, inherit half of my wealth through our child, and ditch me?”

Of course. That was how he saw her.

“I’m only trying to fulfill my duties as your wife,” she replied evenly.

He paused, his gaze sweeping over her face as though committing it to memory. The intensity made her shift, a strange feeling curling in her stomach.

“Not tonight,” he said finally. “I’m tired. You should get some rest too, Hermione.”

Her name softened in his mouth.

“If you insist,” she nodded.

He left without another word.

Hermione exhaled slowly and opened her laptop. The screen lit up. She stared at it for a long moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Then, without hesitation, she moved.

After a few deliberate clicks, a minor share shifted to her name. She closed the laptop before the transaction even finished processing.

By the time the confirmation appeared, she had already leaned back in her chair, her expression giving nothing away.