Trevor's POV

On the day of my wedding, I was sitting backstage getting ready when my fiancée’s assistant suddenly handed me a marital agreement.

[Clause 1: No kissing below the bride’s eyebrows without permission.

Clause 2: The groom is allowed intimacy only once a month, depending on the bride’s mood, and each session must not exceed ten minutes.

Clause 3: At any time, if the bride feels uncomfortable, the groom must immediately stop all actions.]

By the time I finished reading through the hundred-plus ridiculous clauses, my blood was boiling. I grabbed my phone and dialed my fiancée’s number.

“Miss Young,” I said tightly, “care to explain Clause Ninety-Eight to me? What the hell does it mean that no matter who the child’s father is, the baby will still take your last name?”

——

Embarrassing as it is, this grand wedding today wasn’t born out of love; it was an old family arrangement set up by our grandfathers.

I had never even met the bride. All I knew was that she came from a powerful family in the capital.

But never in my life did I imagine that the so-called ‘rules of the elite’ could be this absurd.

“You’re just a live-in husband,” she said on the phone, her tone dripping with disdain. “Why would my child take your surname?”

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.

“Sorry, Miss Young,” I said firmly. “But I’m not signing that agreement.”

The next moment, her furious voice exploded through the speaker. “Trevor! I'm already doing you a favor. You should be grateful I even agreed to marry you! And you dare talk back to me?”

I froze in disbelief. This was the elegant, well-bred young lady my grandfather spoke so highly of? Because right now, she sounded like anything but.

I was about to argue with her, but she had already hung up on me.

Then, the assistant standing beside me gave a mocking laugh, his eyes full of contempt. “Mr. Dalton, I’d advise you to sign it quietly. Otherwise, with Miss’s temper, I doubt your life after marriage will be pleasant.”

Seeing my simple suit and my unassuming face, he clearly decided I wasn’t worth his respect.

Despite that, I met his gaze coldly. “If anyone wants to sign such a humiliating contract, be my guest. But I won’t.”

Our family might not be as rich or powerful as the Youngs, but we were never the kind to be pushed around. So, what if she was the capital’s treasured princess? If that’s the price of marrying her, then forget the wedding altogether.

Resolved, I tore off the tuxedo jacket and turned to leave.

But the assistant quickly stepped in front of me. “The ceremony’s about to start, Mr. Dalton. Where exactly do you think you’re going?”

My fists clenched on instinct as I glared at him. “My legs are my own. I’ll walk wherever the hell I want. You gonna stop me?”

Yet instead of backing down, he sneered even wider.

“Mr. Dalton, I suggest you put that suit back on. If you mess up today’s ceremony, you’ll be taking full responsibility,” he warned, his eyes flashing with threat.

But after years in the military academy, trained under the harshest instructors since I was eighteen, I wasn’t someone who bowed to intimidation. That pride ran deep in my bones.

Seeing his smug expression, my anger also flared hotter. “And what if I decide to walk out anyway?”

The entire glamor team froze, gasping.

“Holy crap,” someone whispered. “This guy’s got guts. He just talked back to Mr. Watts! Guess he doesn’t plan on staying in the capital after this.”

Another muttered, “It’s just an agreement. What’s the big deal? He’s really gonna offend Miss over that? He’s digging his own grave.”

Trevor's POV

“Yeah, exactly! Marrying into the Youngs is every man’s dream in this city. Who cares whose last name the kid takes?”

The room buzzed with whispers and laughter. The more they talked, the smugger Mr. Watts looked.

“You hear that?” he sneered. “You’re just some broke nobody with no power, no background, and you’re talking about dignity? What a joke.”

Even so, their mockery barely fazed me. In fact, it almost made me laugh.

Sure, the Youngs were one of the wealthiest families in the capital; no one could deny that. But when it came to legacy and influence, they were nothing compared to our family.

Money meant nothing when it was stacked against real power.

I leveled my gaze at him. “Mr. Watts, I’ll warn you one last time. Step aside. Now. Or deal with the consequences.”

Maybe it was the edge in my tone, or the energy that slipped through, but for a split second, his smirk faltered.

“You—you little punk! You dare threaten me?” He fumbled for his phone, then threatened, “Fine! I’ll call Miss right now!”

But I didn't feel anything. I simply shrugged, spreading my hands lazily. “Go ahead.”

A few minutes later, the dressing room door swung open with a loud bang.

A tall young woman then swept in, surrounded by bodyguards. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor.

“Eric,” she snapped, her voice crisp and cold. “You can’t even handle something this simple? What am I paying you for?”

I turned toward her and asked, “So, you’re Felicity Young, my fiancée?”

I studied her carefully, and I'd admit, she was stunning. Nearly five-foot-seven, her white wedding gown hugged her curves perfectly. If not for that icy look in her eyes, she could’ve passed for a goddess.

“Miss Young,” I said politely, “since it’s our first time meeting, allow me to properly introduce myself. I'm Trevor Dalton. I came from a military—”

“No need,” she cut me off mid-sentence, flicking her hand dismissively. “I have zero interest in who you are.”

I had planned to introduce my background, maybe give her a reason to drop that arrogance. But apparently, this woman wasn’t the type to listen.

The way she looked at me said it all. In her eyes, I was just another gold-digging man chasing her family’s fortune.

“Miss Young,” I said calmly, “I understand this marriage was arranged by our parents, and that we’ve never met before. But cutting me off before I can even finish a sentence? Don’t you think that’s a little disrespectful?”

Her face darkened instantly.

“Disrespectful?” she snorted. “Mr. Dalton, do yourself a favor and look in the mirror. Do you really think you deserve my respect?”

She then gave a derisive laugh and tossed her hair. “Let me make one thing clear. If it weren’t for my father forcing me to marry you, I wouldn’t even glance your way. You’re nothing but a useless freeloader who lives off women.”

By now, her voice had risen, and she turned to address everyone in the room, making sure they all heard.

“And one more thing, don’t even think that after the wedding you’ll be part of my family. Without my permission, you don’t get to touch me. Not even once!”

Her words were sharp enough to slice through the air.

But I met her glare without flinching, my tone flat and emotionless.

“If you hate marrying me that much,” I said quietly, “then why force yourself?”

Then, after a brief pause, I added, “Why don’t we just call off the wedding? It’d be better for both of us.”

I genuinely meant it, no hostility, no ego, just a clean break.

But she didn’t see it that way. To her, my calmness was an insult.

Her expression twisted with contempt as she snapped, “You arrogant nobody. Don’t play that ‘hard to get’ game with me. I see right through you.”

Trevor's POV

“Do you have any idea how many men in this city are dying to marry me?” she proudly mentioned.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Miss Young, I don’t really care what other men think. I just believe you and I aren’t a good match. As for Mr. Young, don’t worry. I’ll explain everything to him myself.”

The moment I said that, the entire dressing room erupted in disbelief.

“Oh my god, did he just say he wants to call off the wedding with the Youngs?”

“No way! Miss Young is the dream woman of every man in the capital, and he’s turning her down?”

“If it were me, I’d be laughing in my sleep if I got to marry her!”

Their whispers grew louder, but I didn’t care.

In my world, marriage wasn’t about social rank or family wealth. It was about compatibility. And clearly, this proud, self-absorbed princess in front of me was not someone I could get along with.

I could still recall how her father, Chairman Gregory Young of the Young Group, bowed and scraped in front of my grandfather not long ago. In less than half an hour, the man’s pristine white shirt was drenched in sweat, terrified of saying the wrong thing.

He probably still had no idea that the powerful alliance he’d begged for was about to be ruined by his own daughter.

“Trevor!” Felicity’s voice trembled with rage. “I’ll ask you one last time. Are you really breaking off this engagement?”

I lifted my head, meeting her gaze head-on, my tone firm and unwavering. “Absolutely.”

The room went dead silent.

She clearly hadn’t expected me to throw away the chance to marry into one of the most powerful families in the city. Her face flushed red, a mix of anger and humiliation.

Before she could think of what to say, her assistant stepped forward. “Don’t worry, Miss. You shouldn’t be upset over trash like him. You’re better off without some useless freeloader.”

Felicity hesitated for a moment, biting her lip. “But… the invitations have already been sent out. If I suddenly cancel the wedding, how am I supposed to show my face after this?”

Mr. Watts gave me a sly look before turning back to her and replying, “Miss, do you remember Mr. North from the NorthStar Group?”

At the mention of that name, Felicity’s eyes immediately lit up. “Eric, you mean…?”

He nodded eagerly, almost trembling with excitement. “Yes! NorthStar just completed a major round of funding on Wall Street, and Mr. North, as the sole heir, is now worth tens of billions. This could be the perfect opportunity for the Youngs to break into the international market!”

Felicity lowered her head, her cheeks turning pink. “But… would he really marry me?”

Mr. Watts pounded his chest confidently. “Of course! In fact, I just got word that he’s already on his way here!”

As I watched the scene unfold, everything finally clicked into place.

So that ridiculous “marital agreement” wasn’t from Felicity herself; it was his doing. The assistant’s real goal wasn’t protecting her dignity; it was securing a business marriage between the Youngs and NorthStar Group.

Sadly, the poor woman didn’t even realize she was being used like a pawn.

“Enough,” I said coldly. “Miss Young, the engagement between us is over. But don’t you think bringing in a new groom at the last minute is going a bit too far?”

Then I pointed straight at her assistant. “I just want to know one thing. Whose idea was that ‘marital agreement’?”

Observing Felicity, she might be spoiled and arrogant, but she wasn’t stupid enough to come up with something that twisted. There was clearly more going on beneath the surface.