Louis's pov.

There were very few people who stayed in my memory.

That was the unfortunate reality of my life. Faces blurred over time and conversations faded, and most people eventually became strangers again, even if I had met them before.

But Joan Montclaire didn't fade.

After dropping her off at her house that night, I sat quietly in the back of my car while the city lights passed across the window.

Something about the encounter bothered me.

No woman willingly married a stranger with that level of certainty.

She had looked at me like she had already made up her mind long before we met.

That wasn't normal.

“Sir?” My assistant John asked from the front seat.

I leaned back against the leather.

“Look into someone for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Joan Montclaire.”

The name alone was enough to make him glance at me through the mirror.

“The Montclaire family?”

“Yes.”

My fingers tapped once against the armrest.

“And find out why she gave herself to me so easily.”

The rest of the drive passed in silence.

Yet somehow, my mind kept circling back to her smile.

****

The next morning, my assistant entered my office with a tablet.

“Sir, I found something.”

I looked up.

“Miss Montclaire is scheduled to be married today.”

My eyes narrowed slightly.

“To who?”

“Harry Valmont.”

For a moment, I said nothing.

Then I leaned back slowly, allowing it all to settle in.

“So yesterday she married me…”

My gaze drifted to the window.

“And today she is getting married to someone else?”

“Correct.”

Interesting.

“Call her.”

The phone rang only once before she answered.

The moment she spoke, I knew she was drunk.

Her words were slow, careless and floating.

Then she said something that made me pause.

‘Do you know I'm getting married today to the same man that killed me in my past life?”

The call ended shortly after.

I stared at the phone for a moment before handing it back to my assistant.

“Where is the ceremony being held?”

“The grand church, sir.”

I didn't wait for these words to finish, I immediately grabbed my coat and walked towards the door.

“What are you waiting for?” I muttered, staring back at John.

“N..nothing, sir.”

“Good, cause you are taking me there.”

****

By the time I arrived, the atmosphere around the venue was strangely tense.

Guests whispered in small groups while the ushers moved nervously between the entrances.

I walked in quietly and took a seat at the back.

No one recognized me.

Which was perfect.

From there, I simply watched.

Not the ceremony — but her.

My supposed wife, Joan Montclaire.

She stood by the altar like someone who didn't belong there.

Her movement felt loose and the vows were rushed.

Her expression was distant, but the faint smell of alcohol carried through the air even from where I sat.

My mind turned over the same question again and again.

Why would she insist on marrying me…

If she still planned to marry him?

Then the moment came.

And when it happened, my lips curved despite myself.

I had never seen anything like it— it was the highlight of the event.

The reaction in the room was filled with immediate chaos.

But I wasn't watching them— not at all

I was watching her.

She looked dizzy when she stepped outside, like someone who had already reached the end of her strength.

By the time she nearly collapsed, I was already moving.

Catching her felt instinctive— because she didn't even realize who it was.

Now…

“And that,” I finished calmly, “ is how you got here.”

Joan looked at me for a moment.

Then she smiled slightly.

“So you actually kidnapped me.”

I chuckled under my breath.

“Kidnap you?”

I folded my arms loosely.

“Why would your husband kidnap his own wife?”

Her eyebrow lifted.

“What I find more interesting,” I continued, “Is something else.”

I tilted my head slightly.

“What exactly were you thinking?”

My gaze sharpened.

“Why go through with that wedding.. if you wanted me to be your husband?”

She looked away before answering.

“You wouldn't understand.”

“Try me.” I said, pulling a chair closer.

The silence stretched between us before she spoke again.

“I needed to be inside that family.”

Her voice dropped lower.

“To expose them.”

Then she leaned forward slightly and whispered.

“I died once.”

My brows knitted together faintly.

“And I'm not going to repeat the same mistake twice.”

For a moment, I simply looked at her.

Most people would have assumed madness.

But something about the way she said it didn't sound insane.

It sounded like a warning.

Eventually, I stood up. The conversation had already given me enough to think about.

I immediately turned towards the wardrobe and opened it.

“You should freshen up,” I said calmly.

“There are clothes in here for you.” I said, as she watched me cautiously.

“And when you're done,” I added, “ My driver will be downstairs.”

Her expression immediately shifted slightly.

“Where are we going?”

I turned towards the door, as a slow smirk played over my lips.

“Our honeymoon.”

Then I walked out leaving her alone with my answer.