Chapter 2

The knock echoed again, louder this time. Claudia rose gracefully, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she glanced back at me with a cruel smile.

“Here comes your husband,” she sneered. “Wipe those false tears off your face before you embarrass me any further.”

Vanessa snickered behind her, her laughter twisting like a knife in my chest.

The door creaked open, and there he stood Adrian Blackwood. His broad shoulders filled the frame, yet the rags he wore made him look like a man dragged up from the gutters. His shirt was torn at the sleeve, his shoes scuffed, his presence so out of place in Claudia’s polished mansion that Vanessa nearly doubled over in laughter.

“Good evening, Mrs. Carter,” Adrian said politely, giving Claudia a small nod. His voice was calm, deep, steady as though the mocking smiles and cruel laughter didn’t touch him at all.

Claudia smirked, tilting her chin proudly. “Adrian,” she drawled, as if the name itself was a curse. “You’re right on time.”

Then his gaze shifted to me. His eyes stormy gray, unreadable swept over me in one quiet glance before he stepped closer. My breath hitched as he stopped right in front of me.

“I guess you’re my wife,” he said evenly, his tone carrying neither mockery nor joy, just cold certainty. “I’ve seen your picture.” His lips curved, almost into a smirk. “Let’s start going to the registrar. People are waiting.”

I froze, my heart pounding. This stranger in rags was about to become my husband.

Vanessa’s laughter erupted instantly. “That is your husband? Oh, Elena, this is even better than I imagined! You’re going to the registrar with a beggar!”

Claudia’s lips stretched into a thin, satisfied smile as she gestured toward him. “There he is. Your future. Don’t keep him waiting.”

My hands trembled as I reached behind me, untying the worn apron I’d been wearing in the kitchen. Flour dust still clung to the fabric, the scent of soap and grease reminding me of where I truly belonged in this house not as a daughter, but as a servant.

“I should change my clothes first,” I murmured, desperate for at least a shred of dignity before being paraded to the registrar beside a man I had never met.

But Claudia’s sharp voice cut me down before I could even take a step.

“No,” she snapped, her eyes gleaming with cruelty. “You’ll go exactly as you are. Let them see what a perfect match you make a beggar bride for a beggar groom.”

Vanessa’s laughter erupted again, cruel and shrill. “Oh, this is priceless! The registrar won’t know who’s poorer, you or your ‘husband.’”

I lowered my gaze, my cheeks burning with shame, but Adrian’s eyes lingered on me. His expression didn’t change, yet something flickered in his gaze disapproval, anger, or maybe something else I couldn’t name.

Still, he said nothing. He only gestured toward the door. “Come. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

****

The registrar’s office smelled of old papers and dust, its cream-colored walls doing little to brighten the air of formality. My stomach knotted as Adrian led me inside, our steps echoing against the tiled floor.

Waiting there were only a handful of people. An elegant old woman sat upright on one of the wooden benches, her silver hair pinned into a neat bun. Despite her frail body, her sharp eyes carried an undeniable authority. Beside her stood a young man, tall and striking, his tailored suit a sharp contrast to Adrian’s rags.

“Grandmother,” Adrian greeted quietly, inclining his head. They nodded back his grandmother’s eyes warm, his cousin’s watchful and unreadable.

Behind me, Claudia clicked in on her heels with Vanessa trailing smugly beside her. “Well,” Claudia announced with mock cheer, “isn’t this cozy? A beggar’s wedding with barely a soul to witness it.”

Vanessa snorted, covering her mouth as though she couldn’t contain her delight. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. “Elena, in her dirty apron, is marrying a man dressed like a vagrant. Perfect!”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. My fists clenched at my sides, nails biting into my palms. I wanted to vanish, but Adrian only pulled out the chair beside him at the registrar’s desk and said firmly, “Sit.”

The registrar cleared his throat, his expression politely neutral though his eyes flickered with quiet disapproval at my shabby clothes and Adrian’s ragged state. He opened the file before him. “Adrian Blackwood and Elena Dalton. Are both parties present?”

“Yes,” Adrian answered, his voice unwavering.

Claudia chuckled behind me. “Barely.”

The old woman Adrian’s grandmother cast Claudia a withering glance, but said nothing.

And so, under the dim lights and mocking laughter of my stepfamily, I signed away my freedom, binding myself to a man I knew nothing about a man the world believed was nothing more than a poor nobody.

The final stroke of my pen felt heavier than any weight I had ever carried. The registrar closed the folder with a firm snap and declared in his tired monotone, “By law, you are now husband and wife.”

For a moment, silence hung in the room. No applause, no congratulations only Vanessa’s muffled giggle and Claudia’s smug smile.

Adrian pushed back his chair and stood, offering me his hand. His palm was rough, his grip steady, but I could barely meet his eyes as I rose beside him.

The small group began to file out of the registrar’s office. Adrian’s grandmother approached first, her lined face softening as she turned toward Claudia. To bridge the gap between the families, she opened her arms warmly.

“Claudia, dear,” she said gently, “we are family now. A hug, perhaps?”

But Claudia recoiled as though the old woman carried a disease. Her lips curled into a mocking smile. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly. Doctor’s orders,” she sneered, tapping her arm with exaggerated distaste. “I might catch…poverty.”

Vanessa burst out laughing, doubling over as though it were the funniest thing she had ever heard.

The old woman’s eyes dimmed, her arms slowly falling back to her sides. For a heartbeat, I thought Adrian would say something to defend her, defend me but he remained silent, only tightening his jaw as though swallowing his anger whole.

As the tension thickened, Adrian suddenly reached into the inside pocket of his worn coat. The fabric was frayed, the stitching nearly undone, yet from within he drew out a plain brown envelope and extended it toward Claudia.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And what is this?”

Adrian’s voice was calm, almost too calm. “Fifty percent of the debt. Consider it my first gift as your son-in-law. The remaining half will come later.”

Claudia blinked, startled, before snatching the envelope from his hand. She tore it open, and her greedy eyes widened at the neat stacks of bills inside. For a fleeting second, the cold mask she always wore cracked into shock.

Vanessa leaned over her shoulder, gasping. “Where did a beggar like you get this kind of money?” she demanded, disbelief dripping from her tone.

Adrian’s lips curved into the faintest shadow of a smile, but he didn’t answer. His silence was louder than words, his gaze fixed squarely on Claudia as if daring her to push further.

Claudia quickly recovered, snapping the envelope shut and clutching it to her chest. “Hmph. At least you’re not completely useless,” she sneered. “But don’t think this makes you anything more than a ragged stray we’ve thrown a bone to.”

The old woman’s eyes flickered knowingly at her grandson, but Adrian only inclined his head slightly, his silence concealing a truth no one here could yet imagine.

And just like that, both families turned to leave, walking in separate directions worlds apart, even though I had just been bound to him forever.

Heavy tears welled up in my eyes.