I stood before the lavish wedding venue. My wife Celia Quayle’s wedding photos with her male bodyguard, Mason Johnston, were everywhere. The event was so elaborate that even relatives from both families attended.Even so, she had still tried to tell me it was just a business arrangement. Did she take me for a fool?Even if a business arrangement required a wedding ceremony, why would she choose Mason Johnston, a mere bodyguard, over me, her husband?Celia took my hand and said with a sigh, “Fine. If I don’t explain it clearly for you, you’ll just overthink again.“You know he once risked his life to pull me out of a fire. His hand was badly burned in the process.“His only wish was to have a grand, public wedding. I owe him my life. I can’t just ignore that, can I?”But Mason was not the only bodyguard who rescued her that day. Nor was he the most severely injured. So, why did she not marry all of them?Even if he wanted a grand wedding, why did she have to marry him? He could h
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