Chapter 2

The registrar’s name was Gerald. He had the kind of face that said he’d seen everything — secret weddings, terrible decisions, probably at least one bride running out before the vows. Braah, this dude was totally unfazed.

He looked at me first — sitting straight-backed in my interview blazer, the folder of resumes I no longer needed tucked under my chair. Then at Caelum, calm as you please, like marrying a stranger was just another item ticked off his morning schedule. Then at the paperwork Ms. Hale had already arranged — ID, certificates, two witnesses, everything ready.

Everyone prepared. Everyone except me.

“So how long have you two known each other?” Gerald asked.

“Long enough,” Caelum said. “We’re married now, aren’t we?”

Gerald turned to me, waiting for a real answer.

“He moves quickly,” I said, smiling. “It’s one of his better qualities.”

Beside me, Caelum made a quiet sound — half huff, half laugh. I noticed. Don’t ask me why, but I was already keeping tabs on my husband.

Gerald went back to his papers, defeated. I don’t think he’d expected that much dark humor before lunch.

 

The vows were short. Nothing like the wedding I’d once imagined when I still thought Soren would be standing there. No flowers, no music, no dress I’d spent months picking out — just fluorescent lights, a ballpoint pen, and Caelum beside me saying I do like he’d made up his mind long before we arrived.

Somehow, that was my wedding. Not what I pictured. But honestly? Kinda interesting.

My turn came. I looked at him — and he was already looking at me. The usual wall dropped just a second, and I caught something beneath it. Then it was gone.

I do, I said. Or do I? Hehehe.

Strange and solid all at once — impressive, considering I’d known him maybe four hours.

Gerald signed. Ms. Hale signed as witness. The young man from downstairs signed beside her, wearing the face of someone whose Wednesday never prepared him to watch a billionaire marry a stranger.

 

Outside in the afternoon sun, I stood holding a marriage certificate and tried to absorb it all — married before noon to a man I’d met that same morning. Even I questioned my choices.

“Are you alright?” Caelum asked.

“I get married before noon all the time,” I said. “Completely standard Wednesday for me.”

“Zara.”

“I’m genuinely okay,” I told him. “That’s the weird part. I actually am.”

He studied me a moment. “The car will take you for your things. One hour. Then we need to be seen together before Diana hears.”

“She’ll find out today?” Woaw — finally meeting this infamous stepmother.

“Within hours.” He glanced at his watch — worn, old, kept more out of habit than style. “But it’s legal now. Whatever she tries, she can’t undo it.”

I nodded at the watch. “Your father’s?”

He looked down, then back. “Yes.”

 

My apartment felt empty when I walked in — former apartment, I corrected myself. Soren’s things were already gone. Wardrobe half bare, his side of the shelf cleared, the photo from my birthday vanished leaving only a pale rectangle.

He’d been planning an exit while I was still building a future. That hurt most — not the betrayal, but the quiet preparation behind it.

I packed fast. Clothes, books, Dad’s photograph from the mantel, Mom’s letters, the stubborn little plant I’d kept alive two years. Two bags. Done.

My phone rang as I locked up — Mom.

“You didn’t call this morning,” she said straight away. “Something happened.”

“Let me finish first,” I said. “Soren and I are over. And I got married today.”

Silence.

“To who?” Each word careful.

“Caelum Vance. He’s a good man.” I meant it — even if I couldn’t fully explain why yet. “It’s complicated. I’ll tell you everything soon. But I’m safe. I’m okay.”

Pause. “Is he handsome?”

“Mama.”

“Reasonable question.”

“Unfairly handsome,” I said. “It’s honestly a problem.”

She hummed. “He treats you well?”

I thought of him kneeling for my papers, how he said my name like it mattered, that almost-laugh in Gerald’s office. Then the fifty million, the search, the question of how I’d been chosen.

“Yes,” I said. “So far.”

“Then I’ll save questions for when I meet him.” Her voice softened. “Zara — you deserve someone who truly sees you. Make sure that’s what this is.”

I stood in the hallway after we hung up, then walked out without looking back.

 

The penthouse was something else entirely. Caelum was at the dining table when I arrived, laptop open, already working. He glanced up — took in my bags, my plant, Dad’s photo — and said nothing.

“Second bedroom is yours,” he said. “We’ll go over the next eleven days tonight. Diana will move fast.”

I settled in, set Dad’s photo on my nightstand. I’m okay, Dad.

Back in the living area, I made tea — two cups, habit — and set one beside his laptop without a word.

He looked at the mug, then at me. That quiet, unreadable expression again — like something had landed where he didn’t expect it.

“Thank you,” he said.

“It’s just tea.”

“Still.” He wrapped both hands around it. Seeing this composed, guarded man holding a mug like it mattered… made me think there was a real person under all that armor. Someone worth knowing.

And that, I told myself, is exactly how trouble starts.

“The eleven days,” I said, sitting across. “What does she actually do when she challenges this?”

“She looks for inconsistencies. Proof we don’t really know each other — that it’s not genuine.” He met my eyes. “Which is why we have to make it look genuine.”

“How thorough is she?”

“Thorough enough to send a PI after my last two relationships within a week.” He paused. “She won’t accept this easily.”

That sounded real — unscripted, just a man telling the truth.

“Okay,” I said. “Then we learn each other fast.”

“Yes,” he said. “We do.”

Silence settled — almost comfortable. Which unsettled me more than awkwardness would’ve.

Then my phone buzzed. Unknown number.

Congratulations on the marriage. But you should know — Diana knew your name three weeks ago. Long before Caelum ran his search this morning. Ask yourself why.

I read it twice. Set it down slow. Looked at him across the table — the worn watch, the cooling tea, the man who’d said my name like he meant to keep it.

Diana knew me three weeks ago. Before the search. Before the lobby. Before any of it.

Either Caelum lied… or someone arranged our collision. Or both.

I’d walked right into this — folders, pink sock, reckless choice and all. And I had eleven days to find out if I’d married my way to safety… or straight into a trap.