CHAPTER 2.

Sylvester’s POV.

I wasn’t supposed to be late.

I knew how important this day was, even if the marriage itself didn’t mean much to me emotionally, It was just a business arrangement.

A six-month contract in exchange for the loan I gave their family. Still, I felt like I owed them the basic courtesy of showing up on time.

But the board meeting ran over. One of the older members had a list of concerns as long as his arm, and I couldn’t just walk out, not with my grandfather already breathing down my neck about taking my role seriously. So I stayed, gave the answers they wanted, and tried to stay focused. But the entire time, the clock kept ticking.

By the time I left the office, I was almost an hour late. I drove straight to the registry. Luckily there were no stops or detours.

I kept thinking how awkward it might be to walk in so late. Her parents would probably be annoyed and Carol, too. But at least I would be there. I would apologize, we would sign the documents, and this whole thing would be done.

I pulled into the parking lot and looked around.

The place wasn’t crowded. A few people stood near the entrance, but I couldn't recognize any of them. I thought maybe Mr. or Mrs. Williams would be outside waiting with Carol standing next to them checking her watch, fuming quietly. But I didn’t see them.

I told myself they were already inside. So I straightened my jacket, pushed the door open, and walked in.

The air inside was cool. Couples sat on plastic chairs, some of them holding hands, others just sitting in silence. I scanned the room slowly. I didn't find Carol or her parents. I checked the corners, just to be sure there was still nobody.

I approached the front desk. A woman sat there, half of her eyes on her screen and half on the room.

“Good morning,” I said. “I’m here for a wedding appointment. Carol Williams. Has she signed in?”

She clicked something on her keyboard, barely glancing at me. “What time was the appointment?”

“Eleven.”

She scrolled for a moment, then looked up. “No one by that name has checked in today.”

I blinked. “They haven’t come at all?”

“No, sir.”

I stepped back slowly. My brain tried to make sense of that. Maybe they were late, too. Maybe they were on their way and didn’t call. But that didn’t sit right with me. Mr. Williams was the type to confirm everything three times. We had spoken just last night. He assured me everything was in place.

I pulled out my phone and dialed his number.

No answer.

I tried again.

Straight to voicemail.

Then I called Mrs. Williams.

I was met with the same thing.

My fingers hovered over the screen before I finally called Carol.

The line didn’t even ring. Just one tone, then voicemail.

A quiet, cold feeling started to spread across my chest.

I told myself not to jump to conclusions. Not yet. Maybe there was a delay. Maybe someone forgot their ID, or they were stuck in traffic. But something about the silence felt too deliberate. Like they weren’t just late—they were avoiding me.

And that was something I couldn’t afford.

I stood there, staring at my phone, trying to figure out what to do next when another call came in. This time from my grandfather’s assistant.

I answered immediately. “Yes?”

“Sylvester,” he said. “Just wanted to inform you that your grandfather approved your uncle’s request to bring forward the board vote.”

I blinked. “What?”

“They’re choosing the new ruling CEO on Monday.”

A cold rush went through me. “He said he would give me time.”

“Well, he changed his mind,” the assistant said.

“He’ll still have dinner with you this Sunday. If you don't want it to happen, you need to be married before Sunday when you will be having dinner with him. He made that clear. If not, he’s taking you off the board and supporting your uncle instead.”

I said nothing. There was a long pause.

“Good luck,” he added, then ended the call.

I stood frozen for a moment. I could hear my heart pounding now. My mouth went dry. My mind was already spinning because I was running out of time.

I called Mr Williams again. Still no answer and his wife, nothing. Carol’s phone still didn't go through.

That was it. I got into my car, started the engine, and drove straight to their house. I wasn’t going to sit there and be humiliated. I needed answers, and I needed them now.

When I pulled up to the house, I saw movement. Mr Williams was dragging two suitcases toward a car, and his wife was coming out with a box in her arms. They didn’t even look shocked when they saw me, they looked scared.

I got out, walked up to them, and asked, “What’s going on?”

Mr Williams paused. His wife froze in place.

“Why are you packing?” I asked again. “You’re leaving?”

They looked like they wanted to disappear. Like if they blinked hard enough, I would vanish too.

“Where’s Carol?” I demanded. “We were supposed to be getting married an hour ago.”

The mother broke first. “She’s gone.”

“Gone?” I repeated.

“She ran away this morning. Before we woke up. Left her phone. Took a bag. We don’t know where she went.”

I couldn’t speak for a second. “So you thought you would run too?”

Mr Williams tried to say something, but it came out as a cough. I took a step closer. “You stood in my living room last month and looked me in the eye. You said she agreed. You said she wanted this.”

“She did,” the mother whispered. “We thought she did. But she panicked. She left. We didn’t know how to face you.”

“And you planned to vanish? After everything I’ve done for your family? After I agreed to clean up your debt, giving you a way out?”

“We didn’t mean to deceive you,” she said. “Please…”

“No,” I snapped. “You don’t get to beg now. You had one job. One agreement. And now you’ve broken it. You either give me a bride or you return every damn cent you owe me. And that includes interest, penalties, and damages for breach of contract. If not, I’m calling the police.”

“Please don’t…” her voice cracked. “We can’t find her. She left no note. No trace. We were trying to call relatives—”

“I don’t care,” I cut in. “You have another daughter.”

She flinched. “Natasha?”

“Yes. The one in medical school. The one you didn’t offer.”

“She refused,” the mother whispered. “We begged her. She wouldn’t do it.”

I pulled out my phone, my patience long gone.

“If I don’t get a bride today, you’ll repay everything. With interest. And you’ll face a lawsuit for fraud and breach of contract.”

Her face crumbled. “Please, don’t do this—”

But it was already done. My patience had snapped. My pride was in shreds. I was losing everything because of a deal I thought was locked in.

Right then, Mr. Williams clutched his heart and collapsed on the ground, dropping the suitcase. His wife screamed, bending beside him, trying to lift his head.

But I didn’t move.

All I said was, “You have twelve hours. Either give me a bride or get ready to rot in jail.”