SURPRISE KISS

If anyone had told me just two weeks ago, that I would be standing in a registrar’s office wearing a white dress that cost more than my annual salary, and getting married to Sylas Gold, I would have laughed in their face.

If they had told my parents?

I would have been locked up in a psych ward.

My mother’s rough breaths were the only sounds in the room as the registrar finished calling out our names. I glanced behind me and spotted my father still staring at me in disbelief, like he had forgotten the very act of blinking itself.

Both of them stared at me like I had grown a second head overnight.

“Vera,” my mother whispered from the bench right behind us, she could not care one bit that Sylas could hear her. “You know you don’t have to go through with this, right?”

I swallowed, and kept my eyes forward,

“I do,” I said, quietly, “I have already signed the papers.”

Beside me, Sylas nodded. He stood tall, his posture calm and unshaken. He was dressed in a black, tailored suit that probably, no, most definitely cost more than the value of the entire courthouse.

I could still recall the cost of the dress I was wearing, and it still shocked me to my very core. Who would be dumb enough to spend almost a hundred thousand dollars on a single wedding dress? Apparently, Sylas was. Because he hadn’t blinked an eye when he was offered the bill.

Sylas had one hand rested casually in his pockets, and the other hand clasped mine. His grip wasn’t tight, it was just loose enough that I could even consider it reassuring.

This was a wedding, yes.

But it was also a transaction.

The registrar cleared his throat, “Mr. Gold, Mrs. Gold – please step forward,”

I blinked, still not used to ‘Mrs’ being a part of my name.

My fingers trembled as we stepped forward and I took the pen. I signed my name in one long stroke that was both final and irreversible.

Sylas signed next, his movements were pristine and smooth. I could tell that to him, all of this was nothing more than a routine transaction.

And just like that.

I was married.

There was no music, no exchange of vows, and no kiss.

There was just two people and ink on paper.

My mother surged to her feet the moment we walked forward to reach them. “I still can’t believe this,” she hissed, shaking her head, “What possessed you to get married to him? I wanted you to get into a relationship, not get married after a single date.”

Sylas inclined his head, just slightly, “Mrs. Varon,”

My mother blinked,

And I stepped forward, “I know all of this is sudden,” I said, my voice growing stronger with every word that left my lips, “And I know it sounds insane, but I am fine, I am safe. And this is my decision.”

My mother scoffed, “Did you get married to him just because he is a billionaire?”

I parted my lips, and Sylas beat me to it.

“No,” he said calmly, “Vera married a man who would respect her and protect her boundaries.”

The room went silent,

I felt my body stiffen, my face grew warm as I stared down at my toes. It wasn’t just the words themselves; NO, it was the certainty I could feel behind them.

My father studied Sylas for a long time before nodding, “Words are cheap,” he whispered, “But I will hold you to yours.”

Sylas nodded, held my hands, and before my mom or dad could say anything else, we were out of the courthouse.

We stepped outside and I froze, completely.

Because the world exploded into a flurry of light and activity.

Cameras flashed so violently that it felt like I was in a lightning storm. Shouts, screams and squeals overlapped and voices clawed through my ears.

We were being besieged by the press.

But how?

“Sylas!” One shouted, screaming as he kept on taking burst photos, “When did you decide to get married?”

“Mr Gold!” Another screamed, “How long have you been seeing her? Longer than Sarah?”

“Vera! Mrs. Gold.” I flinched as I heard my name being called by a female reporter, “When did you know he was going to marry you and can you tell us your love story?”

I instinctively stepped back, my heart slamming hard against my ribs. Bodies pressed forward towards us, and lenses were shoved into my face with so much force, I had to step back to avoid them.

Sylas moved immediately.

His arm slid firmly around my waist, and he pulled me to his side with a possesive ease that left no room for doubt for whomever was watching.

And something told me thousands of people were.

His other hand lifted suddenly, and everyone stopped, waiting for him to speak.

“Yes,” he said, his voice both smooth and unhurried, “Vera, here is the love of my life, and… we are married.”

The shouting resumed.

“Is this to avoid the merger?”

“Does Sarah know that you have a wife?”

“Is this a publicity move for Gold International?”

I stiffened,

Everything was happening way too fast for me to realize what was happening, but I was slowly getting it.

Before I could process my words, or move.

Sylas hands came up to cup my cheek, his thumb gently brushed my skin, as though inviting me in.

And then, he leaned down and planted his lips on mine.

It wasn’t rushed or clumsy. It was warm, confident and above all, convincing.

Cameras went wild, and I forgot how or what to think.

When he pulled back, he whispered into my ears, “Trust me, I’ll explain later.”

Guards in black, tailored suits rushed forward and parted the crowds with ruthless efficiency. Doors were forced open, reporters were shoved aside.

A sleek black limousine rolled up to the curb and parked right in front of the courthouse.

Sylas guided me forward, shielding me completely as we moved.

The door opened, and I stepped in with shaky legs and a heart filled with so many questions.

First of all,

What the hell just happened?