I had just gotten back from a covert assignment when my phone rang. It was my mother. She said she had arranged a marriage for me.

I hesitated for a second, a little wary. But then she added that the man was decent—came from a respectable family and, most importantly, had never dated anyone before. A man with zero body count in this day and age? That’s like finding a unicorn. So I agreed. Just like that.

Word about the wedding spread fast. My direct superior even gifted me a luxurious home as a wedding present. My soon-to-be husband said he’d already sent people over to decorate it, get everything ready for our first night as a married couple.

The night before the wedding, I went to the house to pick up some documents. But when I opened the front door, I froze. White fabric hung like spiderwebs across the walls. Chrysanthemum wreaths were arranged in a circle around a central table. And, on the table was my black-and-white headshot, cropped straight from my pre-wedding portrait.

To either side of the photo stood tall white candles, their flames flickering with an eerie grace. The air smelled faintly of lilies and smoke.

Instead of walking into a beautifully decorated bridal suite, I stepped into what looked like a funeral home.

I blinked, my mind spinning. Someone was clearly trying to sabotage the wedding. I quickly shouted at the workers to stop what they were doing, to tear down every single horrifying piece of it.

That’s when she walked in—Reyna Hawke.

Marshall’s childhood best friend.

She strolled in like she owned the place, heels clicking against the hardwood floor. Her eyes narrowed when she saw me.

“Who the hell do you think you are, ruining my decorations?” she snapped.

“I’m the bride,” I replied, doing everything in my power not to scream. “I’m getting married tomorrow and you’ve turned the house into a funeral parlor. Do you really think that’s appropriate?”

She gave a dramatic shrug. “So what? Marshall told me I could decorate it however I wanted.”

“If you don’t like it,” she added smugly, “feel free to go crying to Marshall. Let’s see who he sides with.”

Her voice turned sharp. “Touch my decorations again and I’ll make damn sure there’s no wedding tomorrow.”

I let out a slow breath and pulled out my phone.

The call connected on the second ring. “Marshall Rhodes,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Unless you think it’s totally normal to get married in a funeral home, I suggest you come over right now and drag your little decorator and her team out of my house.”

——

This was my wedding we were talking about—my team leaders were attending, high-ranking officials. If they walked in tomorrow and saw a funeral set-up, it would be a PR disaster.

His voice came through the speaker, cold and clipped. “I don't have time for your nonsense.”

I swallowed my anger and tried again, calmer this time.

“Look, I appreciate you sending people to help decorate, but they turned this place into a mourning hall. I don’t want that. So, can you please get here or tell them to lea–”

But before I could even finish, he hung up.

I just stood there, staring at my phone.

This was the guy my mother described as ‘gentle and well-mannered’?

Reyna smirked, clearly enjoying herself. “See? Even tattling didn’t work. Marshall doesn’t give a damn about you.”

She crossed her arms and looked me up and down, her lip curling. I was still in my field gear—boots caked with mud, pants stained, hair a mess from days in the wilderness. I’d just returned from days in the field, collecting samples for the research unit. I must’ve looked like hell.

“You really think you belong in our world?” she sneered. “Marshall’s only ever loved me. Always has. He’s the one who asked me to decorate this place—said I could do whatever I wanted to blow off some steam.”

She stepped closer, voice dropping to a low, threatening whisper. “So if you still plan on getting married tomorrow, I suggest you shut your mouth and let me finish what I started.”

Then she turned away like I was nothing, strolling over to check on one of the workers.

I took a deep breath, kept my tone steady but firm. “I don’t care what kind of history you two have. This house belongs to me. And I don’t want you decorating anything. Now get out—take your workers with you—or I’m calling security.”

Reyna scoffed, then barked over her shoulder, “Ignore her. Keep working!”

She muttered under her breath, loud enough for me to hear, “Her house? Please. Girl from the sticks like you couldn’t afford a place like this if your life depended on it. Marshall bought this house—everyone knows that.”

She spun around, eyes gleaming. “I’ll turn this place into a wedding venue, a funeral home, a freaking circus if I want to. Let’s see who’s gonna stop me.”

My blood boiled. I’d spent years out in the field for national research programs, earned respect from senior officials who rarely bowed to anyone. And now I was being pushed around by a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum in designer heels.

I was done talking.

I pulled out my phone and called the security desk. “Get over here. I have intruders at my place.”

Reyna’s eyes widened. She gave a vicious flick of her wrist, letting go of the leash. “You bitch. That’s what you get for going against me!”

The massive dog lunged at me before I had a chance to react. It tackled me to the floor and sank its teeth into my arm. The pain was blinding. Blood soaked my sleeve as I struggled beneath it, trying to break free. My screams echoed through the hall.

Reyna clapped her hands in delight. She was laughing.

I finally managed to push the dog off and stagger to my feet, arm dripping blood, my body trembling from pain. But before I could even catch my breath, the security team burst in.

Only—they grabbed me.

“What the hell are you doing?! I live here!” I shouted, struggling against their grip. “You should be arresting her! She broke into this place and let her dog attack me!”

One of the guards didn’t even flinch. He just gave me a flat look as he dragged me toward the door.

“We received a report from Miss Hawke about a trespasser disturbing the peace. She instructed us to escort you out.”

By then, the commotion had drawn out a small crowd. Neighbors leaned against doorframes, murmuring like this was the hottest gossip of the year.

“Is that girl crazy? She tried to pick a fight with Reyna Hawke?” an older woman whispered loudly. “Does she not know that Miss Hawke is Mr. Rhodes’ childhood sweetheart? The most important woman in his life?”

“Did she say she lives here?” a man chimed in. “This apartment was clearly a gift from Mr. Rhodes for her to use until the wedding. Bold of her to say that.”

“So what if Miss Hawke decorate the place to look like a funeral hall?” a young woman scoffed. “Can’t that other woman just be mature about it? I mean, why risk throwing away a marriage to the Rhodes Family over a decorations?” A girl chimed in. 

Reyna folded her arms across her chest and smirked like the queen of the castle.

“You hear that? I’ll give you one more chance. Get on your knees, apologize and admit you were wrong. Maybe then I’ll forgive you.”

“If not,” she sneered, “you can kiss your wedding goodbye.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “You're the one in the wrong here. Not me. I’ll say it once more—get out. Take your workers and your dog and get out of—”

Before I could even finish, she slapped me across the face.

“Still running that mouth?” she hissed, slapping me again. You really don’t know your place."

I flinched but didn’t strike back. Not because I was afraid—but because the agency had drilled it into me: no physical altercations with civilians. Period.

This was personal. I wasn’t about to throw my entire career away over some rich girl’s temper tantrum.

I twisted out of the security guard’s grip and raised a hand to block her next slap. But before I could grab her, something slammed into my back. Hard.

I went flying, crashing into the corner of the cabinet. Stars burst in my vision. My shoulder screamed in pain.

Then I heard the voice.

“Touch her again and I swear you’ll regret it. “ 

I looked up, clutching my arm. A group of black-suited bodyguards had stormed in. And in the center of them stood a man.

Tall. Imposing. Impeccably dressed in a designer suit. His expression was unreadable as he marched straight toward Reyna.

“Are you okay?” he asked Reyna, his voice low and commanding. “I heard someone was giving you trouble. Who’s the idiot who thought that was a good idea?”

Reyna spun around and pointed at me with a fake pout.

He followed her gaze. Our eyes locked. His were cold, detached. Then I realized he was Marshall Rhodes.

I took a shaky breath and tried to reason.

“You must be Marshall,” I said, my voice unsteady. “I’m Liora Bennett. The fiancée your grandfather arranged for you. I was the one who called earlier. Reyna was just—”

“Shut up.”

His voice sliced through the room like a whip. His brows were drawn in a hard line of irritation. “I don’t care what happened. I don’t care who you are.”

He stepped forward.

“Kneel. Apologize to Reyna. Right now.”

His words left me speechless. I let out a disbelieving laugh.

This wedding had been arranged by his family. By name, I was his fiancée. And yet, without knowing a damn thing about what had just happened, he was demanding I get on my knees and apologize?

“Marshall,” I said calmly, though my voice trembled, “we may not know each other well and I get that you care more about Reyna than you ever will about me—but legally, I’m still your fiancée. Don’t you think I deserve at least a little respect?”

I looked him straight in the eye. “She attacked me first. And instead of asking what happened, you automatically assumed I was at fault. Why?”

“Why?” He scoffed, repeating the word like it was a joke. “Because you're a conniving woman who manipulates everything to get her way. If it weren’t for my grandfather making my inheritance conditional on marrying you, I wouldn’t waste another second on you. A nobody from some backwater town, thinking she can claw her way into high society. You make me sick.”

His gaze dropped to the mud stains still clinging to my field clothes.

"Don’t think for a second that being engaged to me gives you the right to disrespect the people I care about. If you upset Reyna again, I’ll have you thrown out of the Rhodes Family so fast you won’t know what hit you."

I stared at him, stunned.

I stared at him in disbelief. “Let me make this clear, Marshall…this marriage? I never wanted it.”

“Oh, spare me the hard-to-get act,” Reyna jumped in, laughing smugly. “If Marshall actually dumped you, you’d come crawling back, begging for another chance.”

“Marrying into the Rhodes Family is the best thing that’ll ever happen to you, sweetheart,” she added, smug. “You must be out of your mind to throw it away.”

The two of them stood there, acting like they were doing me a favor.

I laughed.

“The Rhodes are nothing. I didn’t even know who you people were before this ridiculous arrangement. Do you think every woman on Earth is lining up, desperate to marry into your dysfunctional dynasty?” 

Gasps rippled from the crowd outside the doorway.

“Did she seriously just say that?” a middle-aged woman whispered, eyes wide. “Does she not know they’re one of the richest families in the country?”

“She must be out of her mind. Who in their right mind would turn down a marriage into the Rhodes Family?” a younger woman scoffed. “They offered her the wedding, bought her this house and she throws a tantrum over some weird decorations?”

“Exactly,” another woman, about the same age, chimed in. “Why not just let Miss Hawke blow off some steam? She could’ve fixed it all after the wedding. Honestly, this girl’s being completely irrational.”

These people. What is wrong with them? So what if the Rhodes Family was rich? None of them knew the truth. The Rhodes Family’s wealth came from government contracts. 

Ten years ago, they’d secured the ten-year rights to a research project developed by our lab. That deal brought them an easy fortune and years of smooth sailing. But that contract was set to expire in just a month. If they failed to get it renewed, all that shine and prestige would disappear overnight.

That was why Wilfred Rhodes, despite his age, had been making daily trips to our institute—smiling, bowing, kissing up to every higher-up he could find, trying to lock down an extension. He knew I was the project lead. He also knew I was single. So he parked himself outside my office, day after day, trying to sweet-talk me into “considering” his grandson.

When I didn’t fall for it, he went straight to my mother. Said all the right things, made promises and convinced her to lock in the marriage before I could say no.

Truth be told, the match was mutually beneficial. From a business standpoint, if I married into the Rhodes Family, it would stabilize their investment interests in the country and give our research more exposure. The higher-ups were still watching, still waiting to see if the Rhodes Family would be worth a long-term partnership.

But now…

Wilfred’s carefully orchestrated plan was going down in flames, thanks to his spoiled grandson.

My silence, while I sorted through all of this in my head, must’ve looked like hesitation.

Marshall crossed his arms and sneered. “I’m giving you one last chance. Get on your knees and apologize to Reyna. Or I’m calling off the wedding.”

I looked him dead in the eye.