Chapter 4

As their car pulled up in front of the dull grey building that served as the marriage registry, Jenny felt her stomach twist. Her parents stepped out first, and she followed, her hands trembling slightly as she smoothed her simple cream dress. Today was supposed to be her wedding day — yet it felt nothing like a wedding. There were no flowers. No decorations. No groom.

Just a quiet office, a tired registrar, and the weight of reality pressing on her chest.

They took a seat inside the small waiting room. The ticking of the clock became louder with each passing minute. Jenny checked her phone twice, hoping — praying — for a message from Richard. Anything. Even one cold, blunt text saying he was delayed.

But there was nothing.

Two hours crawled by. Her mother, Emma, dabbed her forehead dramatically, rehearsing her future complaints. Her father, Robert, kept checking the door with nervous hope. Jenny sat silently, fingers twisted together, heartbeat painfully loud.

Then, finally, another car pulled up outside.

A sleek black SUV. Not the one Richard used.

The door opened, and a sharply dressed man stepped out, holding a neat stack of documents. His expression was unreadable, business-like. He walked toward the office with confident strides.

When he entered, his eyes scanned the room.

“Miss Jenny Anderson?” he called.

“Yes?” Jenny replied, standing slowly. But something about the man — his age, his expression, his posture — immediately told her he was not Richard.

“My name is Cheng Heng,” he introduced, offering a polite but stiff bow. “I am Mr. Richard Logard’s personal assistant. He sent me here to represent him because he could not make it today. He had an important meeting to attend.”

Jenny’s face drained of color.

Emma’s jaw dropped. “Who in the world sends his assistant to represent him on his wedding day?” she snapped.

“Richard Logard,” Jenny answered quietly, feeling her heart sink. She knew it was a forced marriage, but even then… he didn’t want to see her? Even once? Even for formality?

Her throat tightened painfully. She bit her lower lip to stop it from shaking.

Emma glanced at her daughter’s pale face and smirked inwardly — though she quickly replaced it with fake sympathy.

“He must be very busy, dear,” Emma cooed, gently rubbing Jenny’s back. “Please don’t take it to heart.”

Cheng cleared his throat, clearly impatient. “If we may proceed?”

“Yes,” Jenny whispered, her voice thin and brittle.

Cheng stepped closer, placing the document in front of her. “Just sign here. The registrar will sign afterward. Then the marriage will officially be recognized.”

Jenny stared at the paper.

She saw his signature.

Bold. Confident. Sharp strokes of ink that looked like they were carved rather than written.

“He… signed it already?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Cheng confirmed. “Once we’re done, you will return with me to his mansion.”

“I know,” Emma answered quickly — too quickly — as if she’d been waiting for this part more eagerly than anything else.

Jenny forced herself to breathe. Her hands trembled as she took the pen. With each letter she wrote, she felt a part of her life detaching — slipping away into a future she couldn’t even imagine.

The registrar signed without saying a word. He looked almost relieved when it was over.

Cheng gathered the documents, turned, and headed toward the exit.

“Miss Jenny, it’s time to go,” he said without looking back.

“So rude. Hmph,” Emma muttered before pulling Jenny into a dramatic embrace.

“Be well, my child,” Emma sniffled.

“I’ll keep calling you, dear,” Robert said, hugging her tightly.

Jenny held her tears back until she turned away. She followed Cheng outside, the sound of her parents’ worried whispers fading behind her.

She climbed into the backseat. As the car started moving, she looked through the window. Her parents stood on the pavement, waving, growing smaller and smaller until they blended into the background.

Her vision blurred.

Her first tears fell silently.

She already missed them.

But she forced herself to be brave. She wiped her cheeks and sat upright.

Soon, the car made a slow turn into a private driveway. And then she saw it —

A mansion so enormous it looked like a luxury resort.

Her breath caught.

Tall, elegant stone pillars lined the entrance. The fountain sparkled in the sun. A carefully carved sign read:

RICHARD LOGARD

The name alone radiated power and danger.

The housekeeper — a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a soft smile — greeted them warmly and led Jenny inside.

The foyer was breathtaking. Marble floors. Crystal chandeliers. Paintings worth more than her entire family home. Everything screamed wealth, but also coldness.

The housekeeper guided her to a huge bedroom. A king-sized bed with silk sheets. A private balcony overlooking the pool and ocean. Expensive designer furniture everywhere. Every detail showed perfection.

Too perfect. Too intimidating.

“This will be your room, madam,” the housekeeper said politely. “If you need anything at all, ring the bell.”

When she left, the silence in the room felt suffocating.

Jenny sat on the bed, overwhelmed. She hugged herself tightly. She had never stepped into a place this luxurious — and now she was expected to live here.

She didn’t know whether to feel grateful or terrified.

A soft knock sounded, and Cheng entered again.

“Sorry for entering,” he said. “I need to return to the office for work. If you need anything, call me.”

Jenny appreciated his professionalism.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I’ll let you get back.”

He nodded once. “I’ll see you around,” he said before leaving.

When the door closed, she let out a slow exhale. She was alone again.

Alone in her new life.

★★★★ LTM AUTOMOBILE INDUSTRY ★★★★

Cheng drove into the vast parking lot of LTM Automobile Industry, the world’s largest automobile manufacturer. Towering buildings stretched in every direction, buzzing with activity.

He walked straight to his office, sat down, and barely began sorting his paperwork when the intercom buzzed sharply.

“To my office. Now.”

A deep, cold voice commanded.

Cheng straightened. “Yes, boss.”

He hurried down the long hallway. When he stepped into the CEO’s office, the heavy mahogany door closed behind him with a soft thud.

Richard Logard sat behind his massive desk, bathed in the glow of the large monitor in front of him. The office was as intimidating as its owner — minimalist, expensive, pristine.

Richard didn’t look up.

“You called for me,” Cheng said.

“Report,” Richard answered bluntly, eyes fixed on the screen.

“The marriage is completed,” Cheng began carefully. “She is currently in the white house. But… I noticed something about her family.”

Richard finally lifted his gaze. His amber eyes, cold and emotionless, locked onto Cheng.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Cheng swallowed.

“There’s something off about her mother,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “And I believe… her family may be hiding something.”

Richard’s expression didn’t change — but his eyes darkened.

“Explain,” he ordered.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Cheng took a breath.

“Her mother’s reaction didn’t seem like that of a woman giving her daughter away,” he said. “She was too eager. Too prepared. Almost… relieved.”

He paused.

“And Jenny herself — she looked completely unaware. Like someone who didn’t choose this marriage… but someone who was pushed into it.”

Richard leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping the desk lightly.

A slow, calculated expression formed on his face.

“Interesting,” he murmured.

The atmosphere thickened.

Something dangerous flickered in his eyes.

“Continue,” he commanded.