CHAPTER 11

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A masculine figure stood inside a dark, spacious office, gazing out at the glittering city skyline.

The room was so dim that only faint rays from the streetlights illuminated fragments of the furniture and reflected a dull glow from the sky.

Lucian let out a heavy sigh, his sharp gaze fixed on the horizon as memories of the engagement gathering replayed in his mind. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed one leg over the other and rested his head against the backrest, deep in thought.

Files were stacked neatly across his austere desk… documents awaiting his approval, along with a few reports from his department.

Lucian was strict when it came to work; he never tolerated laziness. To him, slacking off only invited chaos and extra burdens later.

He was calculated, sharp, and impossibly disciplined… but after that night, something gnawed at his thoughts. The Carter family is quite interesting, he mused silently, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

He slid his hands deeper into his pockets, his eyes still drinking in the nightscape. The faint squeal of the door hinges reached his ears, pulling him back to the present. He turned slightly to see his secretary entering.

Micheal walked in quickly, slightly breathless. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, sir.”

Lucian hated being interrupted when working. That’s why he had waited for Micheal to return before resuming anything else.

“So,” he said curtly, ignoring the apology, “any news?”

“This is her movement since last night,” Micheal said, placing an iPad gently on the desk and sliding it toward his boss.

Lucian’s eyes darkened with curiosity as he began scrolling through the screen.

“The call she made was to a restricted number, but we managed to trace it,” Micheal continued.

Lucian’s lips curved faintly. “She’s predictable. Let’s see what she’s planning for me.”

Then, after a brief pause, his tone dropped, smooth and commanding. “Don’t follow her anymore. She can’t harm me anyway.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lucian leaned back again, the corner of his mouth lifting into a dangerous smirk. “I’m more curious about someone else now.”

Micheal raised an eyebrow. “Who might that be, boss?”

“The person I’ll soon be sharing my space with.”

*******

A week slipped by in the blink of an eye.

The day of their marriage registration had arrived.

Layla sat quietly in the car, her gaze lost in the blur of the busy streets outside. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but her face remained blank. She didn’t even glance at the person sitting beside her.

As their car approached the civil affairs bureau, cold dread began to crawl up her spine. The reality of what was about to happen hit her like ice water… if anything went wrong today, it could cost her everything.

The car stopped in front of the building. Layla stepped out with her stepmother close behind, the older woman’s watchful eyes never leaving her.

“I’m not going to run away,” Layla muttered under her breath, irritated by the constant surveillance.

She scanned the area quickly, searching for the groom. There was no sign of him outside. Relief bloomed in her chest. Maybe he forgot… or got called away for business abroad.

Her heart fluttered with hope… but it shattered the moment she stepped into the hall.

Lucian was already there, sitting calmly in a chair with one leg crossed over the other, waiting as if he had all the time in the world.

Layla’s brief joy evaporated, replaced with bitter disappointment that showed plainly on her face.

Lucian stood up politely, but the look on her face made him freeze mid-step.

Layla dropped onto the chair beside him without so much as a greeting.

“Good morning, Mr. Lucian,” her stepmother said cheerfully.

“Morning, Mrs. Carter,” he replied smoothly before sitting down again.

Moments later, the paperwork was done.

Layla stared blankly at the marriage certificate in her hand. Her fingers trembled slightly as she wondered if she had just signed away her last piece of freedom.

Her stepmother’s gentle tap on her shoulder snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Let’s go prepare for the party,” the woman whispered, her tone laced with satisfaction.

Layla stood up like a mechanical doll, moving without thought—until a low, commanding voice filled the room.

“My wife will go with me.”

Layla froze, turning in surprise. Wow… he’s already acting the part, she thought dryly.

“She needs to get ready for the party,” her stepmother replied, a hint of irritation in her voice. “You can pick her up later.”

“I already prepared a dress for her,” Lucian said coolly, rising from his seat. “I’ll take it from here.”

Layla blinked in shock. He… prepared a dress?

“Alright then. We’ll meet later,” Mrs. Carter said with a satisfied smile, though her eyes shot Layla a final warning glare before she left.

“I won’t run away,” Layla muttered once her stepmother was gone. “He looks scarier than you, anyway.”

She made sure Lucian didn’t hear her.

********

Their car pulled up in front of a grand fashion house.

Layla stepped out, wide-eyed. The elegant glass façade shimmered under the daylight. She could already tell this wasn’t a place ordinary people could afford to enter.

Inside, every staff member lined up in neat formation, bowing deeply to welcome them.

Layla’s jaw nearly dropped. “Are there no other customers here?” she whispered.

As she glanced around the empty space, her heart raced. Did he… rent the entire place? Just for me?

“Dress her up,” Lucian ordered curtly.

Layla frowned and muttered, “I’m not a doll,” before disappearing into the dressing room.

But when she saw the team of stylists waiting inside, she gasped audibly. “I’ll never get used to this,” she murmured under her breath.

Meanwhile, Lucian changed in the men’s dressing room. As he adjusted his cufflinks, his phone buzzed with a message from Steve.

“Be careful this evening, buddy. She’s planning a big surprise for you. Happy married life, best friend.”

Lucian’s expression hardened instantly, the warmth draining from his face. His gaze turned icy and unreadable.

When he finally emerged, he was dressed in a perfectly tailored navy tuxedo that accentuated his tall, commanding frame.

Layla stepped out a few minutes later, and for a brief moment, Lucian’s composure slipped.

She wore a lilac cocktail dress that hugged her figure perfectly. The soft fabric shimmered with each step she took, her every movement radiating a quiet elegance.

Lucian stared for a second too long before snapping himself out of it.

“We should go,” he said flatly.

Layla frowned, pouting slightly. “Not even a compliment?” she muttered, following behind him.

*******

The ride to the reception was silent. Neither of them said a word.

Halfway there, Lucian suddenly instructed the driver to pull over. He got out of the car without explanation and entered another identical one parked ahead.

Layla blinked in confusion. What on earth is this man doing?

As they continued driving, irritation bubbled inside her. “Why is he acting like a kid? He’s over forty, for crying out loud,” she mumbled under her breath.

But soon, something felt off.

The car she was in began moving strangely… slower than usual. She glanced out the window and noticed the vehicle Lucian was driving up ahead.

A large truck was speeding toward him.

Her eyes widened in horror. “Is he crazy?! Why isn’t he avoiding it?” She screamed, panic flooding her chest.

She tapped the driver urgently, shouting, “Stop the car!”

But the man didn’t respond. He just kept driving, his face blank and unbothered, as if he hadn’t heard a word she said.

A chill ran down her spine. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.