Married to Pay my Father's Debt

In the grand cathedral, basically owned by the Thorn family given their endless donations, the air was thick with expensive perfume and polished wealth. Everywhere Lisa looked, she saw designer brands, diamond necklaces catching the chandelier light, tailored suits that probably cost more than her mother's yearly salary.

Even the church itself felt less like a place of worship and more like a monument to the Thorn name.

A woman seated near the front glanced at Lisa's dress before leaning toward her companion, whispering something behind a feathered fan. The other woman smirked without bothering to hide it. Somewhere behind her, she heard another voice murmur, "That's the Sterling girl?" followed by a low chuckle.

Lisa's fingers tightened around the bouquet.

Jake's mother sat in the front pew like royalty upon a throne, posture elegant, expression unreadable. But Lisa noticed the slight narrowing of her eyes, her lips curling into a smile, she had always been kind to her despite everything.

After the reception, the bustling cathedral was now so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, condescending eyes studying her everywhere she turned.

"Do you, Jake Thorn, take Lisa Sterling to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"Yes." Jake's voice echoed in the quiet church hall, snapping her back to the reality of her situation.

"And do you, Lisa Sterling, take Jake Thorn to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"Yes, I do."

The words nearly choked her as she said them.

I think I regret this already.

Why am I doing this again?.....

"I said no," a lady shouts. "Sign the papers, James."

She pushes the papers across the table.

A man sits at the other end, eyes pleading.

"Please reconsider, Kate. I love you, and I can forgive everything. You were lonely, I know. I said I forgive you, I won't hold you—"

The man says while frantically waving his hands, trying to push away the divorce papers sitting between them like a death sentence.

"Don't."

The woman cuts him off.

For a moment, silence hangs between them.

James stares at her like he no longer recognizes the woman standing before him.

There was a time when Kate used to wait awake for him no matter how late he came home from work. She used to steal fries from his plate and complain about the smell of his cigarettes while still curling herself against his chest every night. He remembered her laughing barefoot in their kitchen at two in the morning while music played softly from her phone.

Back then, she used to look at him like he was enough.

Now she looked at him like a burden she could no longer carry.

She stands and begins to turn toward the door.

She turns slightly toward him and says,

"Don't forgive me. I don't need it."

She turns fully and walks out the door, heels clicking sharply behind her.

"Stop this, Kate."

Kate struts out of the penthouse, James trailing behind her.

"Kate, don't you think you're going too far with this one?"

"You think what you want, James, I don't care. I'm divorcing you. Nothing you say can change that."

"Give me a chance, please. I'm begging you. What do you want me to do? I'll do anything."

He clasps his hands together, bowing his head slightly. James' face is full of apologetic sadness, desperation bleeding into every word.

"Can't you fucking hear me? Leave me alone or I'm calling the police."

James stops walking for half a second.

Then he hears it.

A loud engine rev cuts through the tension, deep and aggressive enough to turn heads across the street. James slowly turns as a red Lamborghini glides to the curb like something out of a movie scene.

The car door lifts upward.

A young man steps out leisurely, an expensive watch glinting beneath the city lights. Mid twenties at most. Tall. Sharp jawline. The kind of confidence that came from never hearing the word "no" in his life.

James instinctively looks down at himself.

Wrinkled shirt.

Sleeves rolled unevenly.

Dark circles from sleepless nights.

Then back at the man standing beside the Lamborghini.

The contrast is humiliating.

Volskav walks around the car with an easy arrogance, slipping one hand into his pocket before resting the other on the roof.

"What's up, babe? Is this man bothering you?"

The man speaks, glaring dangerously at James.

"He's not, let's go."

Kate immediately moves toward him without hesitation.

Like choosing between them had never been difficult at all.

They both turn, prepared to leave, when a voice stops them in their tracks.

"If it's money, I have it. I'm still young, I'm in my late twenties. What could he possibly have that I do not?"

James' voice cracks halfway through the sentence.

The younger man spins around, a smile resting on his face that doesn't quite hide the anger underneath.

"Oi, you got a problem with her?"

The mysterious man asks while rolling up his sleeve.

"She's my wif—"

The words never finish leaving his mouth before—

Whack.

The sound rings through the street loud enough to turn nearby heads.

James crashes onto the pavement with a sickening thud, vision spinning violently as pain explodes across his jaw.

For a second, he can't even breathe.

"Volskav, stop!"

Kate rushes forward, hastily pulling Volskav toward the car.

James slowly pushes himself upright, one trembling hand pressed against the pavement while the other touches the blood gathering at the corner of his mouth.

The Lamborghini engine roars again.

Kate doesn't look back immediately.

That hurts more than the punch.

"Kate..." he says weakly.

His voice barely reaches her.

She pauses for only a second before sliding into the passenger seat.

The car door shuts.

And then they're gone.

James remains there alone on the pavement, breathing unevenly while strangers stare from afar pretending not to watch.

The city keeps moving around him as if nothing had happened.

A man in an expensive suit.

Sitting there.

His marriage crumbling right in front of him.

None of it mattered to anyone except him.

Slowly, James lowers his head and laughs bitterly to himself, the sound hollow and broken.

Then finally, quietly enough that he almost didn't hear it—

"Daddy?"