I was still caught in the middle of my thoughts—torn between accepting or rejecting the marriage the Laxamana family was forcing on me—when my phone suddenly rang.
Unknown number.
I stared at the screen for a second before answering.
"Hello? Who is this?" I asked calmly.
"Miss me?" came a familiar voice, teasing and smug.
"It's your future husband."
My jaw tightened instantly. I didn't need to check the caller ID. I knew exactly who it was.
My mood shifted. My lips curved into a deep frown.
"How did you get my number?" I asked sharply.
"Your dad gave it to me."
"Can you stop bothering me?" I snapped. "You perverted jerk. What do you want?"
There was a brief pause on the line.
"Okay, sorry," he said, surprisingly calm. "I just wanted to check if you're okay. Have you made a decision yet?"
"I don't need your concern," I shot back. "Keep it to yourself. Like I told you before—I will not marry you."
I ended the call before he could respond.
Less than a second later, my phone buzzed again.
Not a call—messages.
Final decision?
No regrets?
Are you sure?
Okay.
My fingers trembled as I typed back, fueled by pure anger.
Yes. I won't marry you. Whatever my dad owes your family, I'll pay it—no matter how much it is.
The confidence in my reply was a lie.
I had no idea how much my father owed them.
I didn't even know where I'd get the money.
But my pride wouldn't let me back down.
I turned off my phone completely.
Not long after, shouting erupted outside.
I rushed to the window—and my chest tightened.
Armed men had arrived at the farm.
Their presence froze everything. Workers stopped what they were doing, fear spreading across their faces like wildfire. One man—clearly their leader—stepped forward.
"Where is Mr. Joaquin Celestine?"
I rushed outside.
"What's going on here?" I asked, my voice sharp with confusion.
"Ms. Tris!" one of the workers cried out. "They're dragging your dad away!"
"W-WHAT?!"
I ran.
Two armed men had my father restrained, gripping his arms like he was a criminal.
"Let go of my dad!" I shouted, pushing myself between them. "Who are you? What do you want?"
One of them raised a gun—pressing it against my temple.
I swallowed hard.
Fear clawed its way up my spine—but I didn't let it show.
"He needs to come with us," the man said coldly. "He has a debt to pay."
"Who ordered you?" I demanded. "Rowan Laxamana? That bastard?"
"Tris," my dad whispered, panic in his eyes. "Help me. I don't want to go with them."
My mind raced.
"Let him go!" I ordered, my voice shaking despite myself.
"Don't worry," I added desperately. "I'll call Rowan."
I turned my phone back on and dialed his number.
Dialing…
No answer.
"Answer me, you jerk!" I hissed.
He ended the call.
"Bullshit!" I snapped, dialing again.
Six times.
No answer.
Then a message appeared.
Have you decided?
My fingers flew across the screen.
Answer my call. Now.
My phone rang immediately.
I answered without hesitation.
"I'll marry you," I said breathlessly. "Just tell your men to let my dad go. Please. I'm begging you."
Silence.
Then—
"Okay," Rowan said. "That's easy enough."
A pause.
"…Are you crying?"
"That's none of your business," I snapped. "Just release my dad."
"Fine," he replied calmly. "But we need to meet tonight. Seven p.m. sharp. My secretary will pick you up. Dress properly."
The call ended.
Almost instantly, one of the armed men received a call. He listened briefly—then lowered his gun.
They released my father and left without another word.
I hugged my dad tightly, my body trembling. No matter how angry I was at him, seeing him like that shattered me.
By the time I finished getting ready, it was almost seven.
Rowan's secretary arrived—the same man from our first encounter.
He opened the car door for me politely.
"Good evening, Ms. Celestine. Sir Rowan has been waiting."
I gave him a tight smile and got in.
We arrived at an Italian restaurant—elegant, expensive, intimidating. One look and I knew I didn't belong there.
Inside, Rowan sat waiting.
He looked… unreal.
Perfectly tailored suit. Calm posture. Legs crossed. No expression. It was like he had his own spotlight—his presence alone brightening the room.
He stood and pulled out a chair for me.
"You're late," he said coolly. "We agreed on seven. It's already seven-thirty."
I ignored the comment.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Relax," he replied. "Let's eat first."
After dinner, he slid a brown envelope across the table.
"What's this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Open it."
Inside was a document.
An agreement.
"What is this?" I demanded.
"Read it."
I scanned every line carefully.
"So," I said slowly, "once we're married, it'll be a secret marriage. And if anyone finds out… you'll have my dad arrested?"
"Yes," he answered plainly.
"So—are you in?"
I met his gaze.
"As long as you don't hurt my father," I said firmly. "I'll follow your rules."
He nodded.
"I keep my word. Your father will be safe—as long as you do what you're told."
"Then we're done here," I snapped.
He laughed.
"You're interesting, Ms. Celestine," he said. "From the moment I met you, I knew you had backbone."
"Too bad," I replied coldly. "Because I've disliked you since day one."
That only made him laugh harder.
"What's so funny?" I snapped.
"You are," he said. "You're the first person who's made me laugh like this."
"I don't care," I muttered.
"Anyway," he continued casually, "the wedding will be this week. No honeymoon—I'm busy running Blackstone. After the wedding, you'll leave the farm. We'll live in the city."
My breath caught.
"W-WHAT?! This week?!"
"Yeah.This week," he said flatly, his gaze never leaving mine, "you'll be Mrs. Alicia Beatrice Celestine Laxamana."
No pause. No emotion.
"Don't get the wrong idea," he added. "This isn't love. I'm marrying you because your father begged me to."
Heat rushed to my face, but I kept my chin high. "As if I was expecting anything from you," I snapped.
A corner of his mouth twitched—barely. "Good. Then prepare yourself."
"For our wedding."