I Will Protect Her

Hazel stood before the patriarch. While she was having a quiet court wedding, Nady was walking down the aisle with the man Hazel was supposed to marry. Her parents weren’t even present.

"Miss Jones," the old man next to her called. He was apparently the butler of the Anderson family and had brought the wedding documents, which Mr. Anderson had already signed.

"He must be too sick to show up," Hazel thought before a paper was shoved in front of her.

"Please sign the papers," the butler said. She nodded and signed the documents.

After all the formalities were completed, she got into a black limousine with the butler.

"Mrs. Anderson, do you need water?" the butler asked, holding out a bottle of water.

Mrs. Anderson. She wasn’t yet familiar with the name, but it was hers now. Was that a privilege or a curse?

She accepted the water and gulped it down quickly.

"Are you a virgin?" the butler asked suddenly.

Hazel choked on the water, coughing hard as her eyes turned red. She stared at the butler in disbelief.

"I’m sorry. The old Mrs. Anderson wishes to know," the butler explained.

Hazel was too exhausted to ask further questions. She simply replied, "Yes."

Soon, the car pulled up at the entrance of the Anderson mansion, and the door was opened for her. Hazel hesitated to get out, but she knew she couldn’t stay in the car forever.

Her eyes wandered over the massive estate. It was so grand it made her feel dizzy just looking at it.

The three-story main building, the smaller structures scattered across the property, and the dolphin fountain behind her—this wasn’t even half of the estate.

"Please come with me," the butler said, and she followed him into the sitting room.

Inside, a maid, and a driver stood waiting.

"These is the maid, Sharon, and the driver. Mr. Anderson won’t be back until tomorrow morning, so please make yourself comfortable," the butler informed her. Hazel nodded, relieved. She was far too tired to meet her supposed husband tonight.

Everyone greeted her politely, and Sharon, led her upstairs to her bedroom.

The room was elegantly furnished with black-and-white curtains and luxurious décor. Hazel didn’t pay much attention to the details as exhaustion weighed her down. She crawled into the bed, which was incredibly soft, with the most comfortable sheets she’d ever felt.

With such comfort, she slowly drifted off to sleep.

---

Feeling strange, Hazel slowly opened her eyes and spotted a pair of dark eyes staring at her.

A man sat in a chair at the far end of the room, dressed in a black suit with slightly disheveled black hair.

Hazel pinched herself to check if she was dreaming. The man sitting there was the most beautiful person she had ever seen.

"So, you’re the wife?" he asked in a deep, magnetic voice.

Hazel nodded slightly, sitting up on the bed.

"You’re not Nady Jones," he said matter-of-factly. Hazel fiddled nervously with the hem of her skirt.

Was he disappointed? Of course, he must be. She wasn’t the bride he had expected.

"Freshen up. Let’s have dinner," he said, standing up and walking out of the bedroom.

Hazel’s gaze followed him, and she couldn’t believe it.

"Is that Mr. Anderson?" she wondered.

Mr. Anderson was supposed to be crippled. The butler had said he wouldn’t return until tomorrow morning. So, who was this man?

After stepping out of the bathroom, Hazel found a simple white gown laid out on the bed along with everything she needed. Once she was ready, she made her way downstairs.

At the head of a long dining table sat the mysterious man. The butler signaled for her to take the seat next to him, which she did.

Her curiosity was growing uncontrollable. Seeing that the man had no intention of introducing himself, she decided to take the initiative.

"Who are you?" she asked.

He put down his fork and leaned back in his chair.

"You have no idea who I am?" he questioned, and she shook her head.

"Coyle Anderson," he introduced himself.

Hazel’s brows furrowed. Wasn’t he supposed to be crippled, disfigured, and coughing every five minutes?

"What? Not up to your expectations?" he asked, noticing her hesitation.

She quickly denied it, shaking her head so he wouldn’t misunderstand. Not up to her expectations? He was far beyond anything she could have imagined.

Coyle stood up and walked behind her. He crouched slightly and whispered into her ear, "I am very satisfied. You’ve met all of my expectations, Mrs. Anderson."

Then, without another word, he ascended the stairs.

A small smile crept onto his lips as he walked away. His assistant had been right.

"If you want to marry Hazel Jones, send the invitation to her younger sister," his assistant had advised. "Their mother has a habit of switching things."

Coyle chuckled softly. He had finally married the woman he wanted. Hazel was the only woman who had ever captivated him.

She might not know it, but he knew her better than she knew herself.

In his room, Coyle took out his phone and dialed his assistant, Jude. The call connected immediately.

"Sir, did you get home safely?" Jude asked. Jude had been worried because Coyle had rushed back to the country, impatient to meet his wife. He had even canceled an important meeting with a foreign company worth millions just to see her.

"Cancel my meetings tomorrow. I have somewhere important to go with my wife," Coyle said.

Jude frowned on the other end of the line. "Sir, I’ve already spoken to the Chinese CEO, and he agreed to come to the company tomorrow. He’s even booked his flight."

Coyle didn’t care. He had been working tirelessly since he turned twenty. He needed a day off. Sure, it might cost him a few million, but his wife was far more important.

"Cancel everything. My wife needs me," he replied firmly before ending the call.

On the home screen of his phone was a photo of young Hazel, about ten years old. Even after fifteen years, she still looked as beautiful as she did back then.

"I promised to protect you. Did you really think I forgot my promise?" he murmured to himself.