Chapter 2

ZARA’S POV

I looked outside the window, taking in the bright city lights that shone ahead of us. I sat in the passenger seat, as my heart pounded like a free rock-and-roll concert was being held there.

While Cael on the other hand was driving calmly, his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, and the other resting on the gear shift. Every time he shifted, his fingers moved close to my thigh and my skin tingled.

My head was still buzzing from the drinks. Buzzing from the anger. Buzzing from the way he had looked at me back at the bar.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said.

He didn’t say anything or ask any questions. He just stood up, took my hand, and led me out. Now we were driving, and I couldn’t stop the words jumping right out of my mouth.

“I’m serious, Cael,” I said, turning to face him. My voice was loud, way louder than I expected. “I want to get married. Right now. Tonight.”

He glanced at me. “You sure about that?”

“Yes.” I laughed wildly. “Marcus can go fuck himself. Nadia too. Victor too. All of them. I’m done waiting for someone to save me. I’m doing it myself.”

The car turned onto a quieter street and neon signs shone above us. I kept talking because if I stopped, the pain might catch up.

“You were easy to talk to back there. Most guys would have told me to calm down or called me crazy. But you—you just…listened to me. And you didn’t look at me like I was pathetic.” I reached over and touched his arm. It was solid and very warm. “I like that. I like the way you talk. You’re calm. Like nothing can shake you and it’s kinda hot.”

Cael’s lips twitched. “You’re drunk, Zara.”

“So what?” I shot back, grinning stupidly. “Drunk me is honest. Drunk me sees clearly. And right now I see you. You’re tall, handsome, absolutely charming and not running away from drunk me. That’s way more than Marcus ever did.”

Deep down, I actually felt that this was right. Intoxicatingly right. Cael wasn’t part of Victor’s world. He wasn’t pretending to love me while screwing my sister. He was here. Right now. And the way we flowed at the bar… it made the idea of marrying a stranger feel less insane and more like revenge that had the possibility of happening.

“I need this,” I said, but this time my voice dropped. “The will says I have to be married. I have just twenty-nine days left. If I don’t do it, Victor will win. He will take everything my mother ever built. He’ll push me into some old man’s bed and smile while he does it. But I won’t let him.”

Cael didn’t answer right away. He just kept driving, calm as ever. That calmness should have scared me. But I was too far gone to care. The alcohol made everything feel possible. I felt brave, yet stupid.

“There,” I said suddenly, pointing at the bright sign ahead. “The 24-hour chapel. Now that is perfect.”

He pulled up without arguing. The building looked cheap and glowing under the lights. The sign was flashing “Open” like it was daring me. I climbed out quickly, and my heels clicked on the sidewalk. The world tilted a little, but I caught myself on the car door.

Cael came around and took my elbow gently. “Easy there.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, but I leaned into his touch. His hand felt good. “Come on. Before I change my mind.”

Inside, the place smelled like old flowers and air freshener. A tired-looking officiant in a worn out suit stood behind a small desk, looking at us like he had seen this a hundred times.

“Wedding?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered before Cael could speak. “Right now. We want to get married.”

The man shrugged and pulled out papers. “Names?”

“Zara Helena Calloway. And Cael… what’s your last name?”

“Ashford,” Cael said quietly. He signed where the man pointed without hesitation.

I scribbled my name next, my handwriting was messy from the drinks and the shaking in my fingers. The officiant mumbled something about witnesses, but two sleepy guys from the back room came out and signed quickly.

Then we stood in front of the small altar with cheap flowers, a crooked cross on the wall and neon light shining in from the street.

The officiant started speaking quickly. “Do you, Cael Ashford, take Zara Helena Calloway to be your wife…”

I could barely hear the words and my heart raced with adrenaline. Part of me knew this was crazy. The other part screamed that it was perfect. Burn it all down. Marry the stranger who didn’t flinch at me.

“I do,” Cael said calmly.

Then the officiant turned to me. “And do you, Zara Helena Calloway, take Cael Rowan Ashford to be your husband…”

“I do,” I said loud and clear. I didn’t even sound shaky.

A pair of rings appeared from somewhere—simple silver bands. We slipped them on each other’s fingers. His hands were steady, while mine trembled a little, but I got it done.

Then the officiant smiled. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Cael turned to me. Those brown eyes locked on mine, and for the first time that night, his calm composure defaulted a bit. It was replaced by a darker look, in that moment an ounce of familiarity crossed my mind.

I had seen him before. But where? Before I could think of it further he stepped closer, and slid one hand to my waist, while the other cupped the back of my neck.

Then—he kissed me.

This wasn’t a quick peck, or a polite church kiss.

His mouth claimed mine. He was slow at first, then went deeper, hotter and filled with passion. It felt like he meant every second of it. His lips moved against mine with a purpose, his tongue invaded my mouth just enough to make my knees weak.

I tasted whiskey and something that was all him. I fisted his shirt with both hands without thinking twice, drawing him in, closer to me. Everything I had gone through that day disappeared within a minute. The bar, Marcus, Nadia, Victor—everything. It all just floated away in that kiss.

This felt way too deliberate to be a drunken mistake.

When he finally pulled back, I was gasping for air. My lips tingled with a new found excitement, and my body felt alive in a way it hadn’t in years.

The officiant clapped once, sounding bored but cheerful. “Congratulations to you, Mr. and Mrs. Ashford.”