CHAPTER 4. LUXURY BEHIND THE VEIL

"Amen. From this moment forward, you are husband and wife in the eyes of the law and God," the priest’s voice echoed through the cathedral, closing a ceremony that felt like a dream to Claire.

Julian Blackwood slowly lifted the thin veil covering Claire’s face. His sharp, deep gaze seemed to hold all of Claire’s awareness captive. Under the glow of the hall’s crystal chandeliers, Julian did not kiss her lips. Instead, as their awkward arrangement dictated, he simply pressed a gentle yet protective kiss to her forehead.

"Stay close to me. Do not let go of my hand until we leave this building," Julian whispered, his low voice sending a shiver through Claire’s senses.

Claire could only nod slightly, her fingers wrapped tightly around Julian’s firm arm. As they turned to greet their guests, the hall’s atmosphere shifted from murmurs of disdain to silence filled with admiration. The businesspeople who were Silas Blackwood’s colleagues looked stunned by Julian’s commanding presence.

In the corner of the room, Arthur Blackwood stood with a pale face and clenched jaw. He downed his champagne roughly. "How is this possible," he muttered in disbelief. "That man was supposed to be street trash. Why does he look like a king here?"

Natalie, standing beside Arthur, squeezed her fan until it bent. "This must be just an act, Arthur. Grandfather must have hired the best stylists to fix him up. Once this party is over, he will go back to being a vagrant."

After the exhausting reception, Claire stood in the mansion lobby waiting for Julian to ready the vehicle. But her father, Andrew, approached with Eleanor and Natalie. His face was stiff, with no trace of joy for his daughter.

"Claire, now that you are officially Julian’s wife, my duty as your father is complete," Andrew said bluntly. "As per our family agreement, starting tomorrow I will no longer send you tuition money or allowances. Your responsibility now falls entirely to your husband."

Claire was stunned, her eyes fixed on her father with deep disappointment. "Father, but I still have one more year until I graduate. Why so sudden?"

"Oh Claire, dear," Eleanor cut in with a sickening fake smile. "Your husband is a grown man, isn’t he? Even if he only works odd jobs in Namba, he should be able to support his wife. Besides, didn’t you say you wanted to be independent? This is the perfect time."

Natalie laughed mockingly, her eyes glancing toward an old car parked in the distance that she assumed belonged to Julian. "Namba? I hear that’s a dirty slum area. I hope you are comfortable living in a small tin-roofed house, Claire. Don’t forget to bring an air purifier, I hear the smell there is terrible."

Claire took a long breath, trying to hold back tears that began to well up. "All right. I will not beg. I still have my part-time job at the café. I can take care of myself."

"Barista work?" Natalie laughed louder. "How many cups of coffee do you need to sell to pay rent in Namba? How pitiful."

Her stepfamily walked away with arrogant strides, leaving Claire alone in the dark lobby. Just then, Arthur emerged from behind a pillar, approaching Claire with a bitter smile.

"You heard that, didn’t you? Your father has cast you out, Claire," Arthur whispered, his voice full of triumph. "If you had married me, you would live in a downtown penthouse. You would not need to work as a café servant. There is still time if you want to beg Grandfather to call this off."

Claire turned away with a sharp look. "I would rather live in a hut than have to look at your face every day, Arthur."

"Don’t be so proud! Namba is a dumping ground for failures like Julian!" Arthur shouted, stepping closer until Claire felt cornered. "He has no future. He will drag you into poverty."

"Keep your hands off my wife, Arthur."

Julian’s deep voice cut through the tension. He stood there, holding car keys with an expression so cold that Arthur instinctively stepped back two paces. Julian walked closer, wrapping his arm possessively around Claire’s waist.

"Is there a problem here?" Julian asked, his eyes fixed on Arthur as if the man were nothing but a nuisance insect.

Arthur tried to gather his courage. "I was just warning Claire about her bleak future with you in Namba. You don’t even have a steady job, do you?"

Julian smiled faintly, a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Her future is not your concern. Now leave before I lose my patience."

Arthur scoffed, trying to look brave even as his legs trembled. "Fine then. We’ll see how long Claire can endure suffering with you." He then hurried away.

Julian looked at Claire, noticing his wife’s somber face. "Come. We are going home now."

The drive to Namba took about an hour. Claire sat silently staring out the window, picturing herself living in a small old wooden house. But when the car entered a luxury apartment complex with high-level security in Namba’s elite district, her brow furrowed.

"Are we, are we staying here?" Claire asked as the car stopped in front of a lobby lined with black marble.

"Top floor. Penthouse unit," Julian said simply.

They rode a private elevator. When the doors opened, Claire was stunned. The space was vast with glass walls offering breathtaking views of the city lights. The furniture inside was modern and expensive. A grand piano sat in one corner, and rare wine bottles lined the wall shelves.

"Julian, this place," Claire stammered. "Did Grandfather give it to you as a condition for our marriage?"

Julian removed his tuxedo jacket, leaving a white dress shirt whose sleeves he rolled up to his elbows. "Grandfather gave me nothing, Claire. This is mine."

"Yours? But people said you worked "

"People talk too much," Julian cut in calmly. "Your room is to the left. Mine is to the right. You can arrange your things tomorrow."

Claire stood in the middle of the magnificent living room, feeling more confused by the moment. If Julian was wealthy, why did he let himself be insulted as a cast-off grandson with odd jobs? Suspicion began to creep into Claire’s mind. Was this man involved in illegal business?

The night grew late. The tension between the two strangers who had just been bound by sacred vows was palpable. Claire went to her room, changing out of her wedding gown into a modest silk nightgown. She picked up a folder she had prepared several days earlier.

She left the room and found Julian sitting on the balcony, staring into the darkness with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"Julian," Claire called softly.

Julian turned. "You are not asleep yet?"

"There is something I want to discuss," Claire sat in the chair across from Julian, placing the folder on the glass table. "This is our marriage contract agreement. I have drawn it up."

Julian set down his glass, one eyebrow raised. "A contract?"

"Yes," Claire cleared her throat, trying to hide her nervousness. "First, no intimate physical contact except in front of the extended family for appearances. Second, we must not interfere in each other’s personal affairs. Third, this marriage will end at a time we agree upon later. I know, I know you may have a life you do not want to share, and I also want to focus on my studies."

Claire looked at Julian anxiously. She was afraid he would be angry. But instead, the man took the document, scanned it quickly, then looked at Claire with an unreadable expression.

"Personal affairs, is that right?" Julian murmured. "Including the fact that your husband might be a criminal like you are thinking now?"

Claire jumped slightly. "I didn’t say that."

"But your eyes are saying it," Julian took a pen from his shirt pocket and signed the paper without hesitation. "I agree. No physical contact. No interference in personal affairs. From now on, we are partners who share a roof."

Julian handed the document back. "Now go to sleep, Claire. Tomorrow will be a long day."

Claire took the folder with trembling hands. She should have felt relieved, but a strange feeling lingered in her heart as she saw how easily Julian gave up his rights as a husband. Claire returned to her room, closed the door, and sank to the floor behind it.

Outside, under Namba’s moonlight, Julian Blackwood returned to his whiskey, staring at Claire’s bedroom door with a look far from "uninterested."