CHAPTER 002

NINA.

Dad stares at me in silence, his expression unreadable. My hands tremble slightly, but I curl them into fists, anchoring myself. Then he sighs, shaking his head, and speaks softly, "My sweet girl," and approaches me, taking my hands gently.

I stiffen. "I love him, Dad. I don't care about his economic background or social status, and I…"

Dad interrupts, voice firm but gentle. "You don't. But he does care about yours."

I stiffen again, pulling my hands free from his grasp. "That is not true! We've spent hours, days, even months talking about these things. He's never shown an interest in my money. He loves me for myself. You have to trust me."

Dad shakes his head. "I do trust you, Nina. But I will watch out for you and protect you more. That boy is not what he seems. I get the feeling there are ulterior motives behind him."

"That's ridiculous." My voice rises a notch, my heart pounding in annoyance. "You don't even know him. You hardly had a complete sentence with him!"

"I don't want an entire sentence," Dad replies sternly. "I've spent over thirty years in business. I can spot a con artist a mile away."

"Dad!"

His jaw clenched and his voice stiffened. "You will not marry him, Nina. And that is all there is to it."

The force of his words registers with me, cold and irreversible. Pain fills my chest, but anger breaks out with it. My fist clenches the strap of my bag as I shoot him a dirty look. I don't utter a single word, but I push my way past him, racing towards the door.

"Nina—"Dad calls out to me, but I'm already gone, the door slamming behind me.

Esme, the receptionist, glances up as I rush past her, my eyes blurring with tears. I force my way into the private elevator, slamming the button for the parking garage. My face scowls back at me from the metal doors, flushed cheeks, lips slightly parted, eyes shining with unshed tears.

Why did he not trust me? Trust in my love? Had I ever taken a man home with me before? Had I ever done anything so irresponsible that he had a reason to doubt my judgment?

The elevator opens up with a ding, and I step out into the parking lot, observing Bryan pacing back and forth nervously beside my car. He lifts his eyes to see me as he approaches hurriedly. "What did he say?"

I shake my head, trying to make a sentence and hoping he’d understand.

His jaw tightens, his fists balling up. "Fuck." He turns away from me, running his hand through his hair. The anger coming from him is almost palpable.

Standing there, observing him, my heart breaks a little more. He must have needed this so desperately. He must care for me.

And Dad…

I dry my eyes, my despair hardening into determination. "We're getting married one way or another."

Bryan's striding stops, his eyes flicking to mine. "What?"

I step nearer, grasping his hands. "We can go to a courthouse. Tonight. He doesn't have faith in us, but we do."

For a second, Bryan just stares at me. Then his lips slowly curve into a grin, his eyes shining. "Yeah. That's right. Let's go."

I stumble. "Wait, now?"

His jaw clenches. "You love me, don't you? Or have you changed your mind?"

I blink. "Of course, I love you, Bry…"

"So what are you afraid of?" His grip tightens a bit. "Let's do it now. Unless." He glances at me. "Unless you're having second thoughts?"

I stare into his burning eyes. Was I? No.

I take a deep breath and nod. "Okay."

Bryan doesn't waste a second. He rushes me through the parking lot, and we speed out onto New York streets.

---

The priest in the courthouse drags on, but in my mind everything is a whirl of emotions.

“…do you take this woman, Nina Davis, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to be with in times of joy and adversity?"

"Yes, I do," Bryan responds. The priest faces me.

"And do you, Nina Davis, take this man, Bryan Carter, to be your lawfully wedded husband…?"

I take a deep breath. "I do."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Bryan leans in and gives me a chaste peck on the lips. He instantly draws back and scurries over to the clerk. We sign the wedding certificate in a flurry, his energy on the verge of hysteria.

As I write my signature, I let out an embarrassing and nervous laugh. "Why the hurry? I must be dreaming because everything has been happening so fast."

Bryan's face turns to me, his eyes shining. "It's nice to be married, isn't it?" He pulls me in closer, his voice softer. "What's mine is yours, and what's yours…is mine."

His lips kiss me again.

Something in that sentence rings in my head. A dulled alarm. A tiny sense of unease. I shake it off.

It's a marriage promise. Dad was just getting to my head. There's nothing to be worried about.

With that reassurance, I allowed myself to melt into the kiss.

---

The following morning, I carefully freed myself from Bryan's arms, giving him a quick peck on the forehead before hurrying into the shower. After getting dressed, I go out of my way to make sure that I am absolutely perfect, immaculate and put together. I have to be today.

I drive to D'Atelier and dive into work, avoiding Dad the best I could. I focused instead on my role as an executive of the firm, diving into assignments, guiding projects, chairing meetings.

However, I attended a compulsory board meeting at 3 PM, easing into my chair beside Dad.

The moment I sit, his eyes shoot to my hand. His eyes fix on the wedding ring. His entire body stiffens.

I don't glance at him and just stare straight ahead. He doesn't say a word.

The meeting goes on, discussions of upcoming collections, marketing plans, business alliances. When finally it ends, everyone begins to leave.

Except Dad.

He doesn’t move. I stand and gather my things. But, he turns to me, voice unreadable. "Wait."

I hesitate, then sit back down, my jaw tight.

When we’re alone, Dad exhales slowly. "You married him."

It’s not a question. So I nod.

"When?"

"Yesterday. At a courthouse?"

There’s silence that goes on till I get uncomfortable.

Then Dad gets up. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t sigh. He doesn’t say anything.

He just gets up and walks out.

And for some reason, that's worse.

---

That evening, I returned home to Bryan walking back and forth in the living room. His head snaps up when he notices me entering.

His face was furious. His voice was hard as granite and so accusatory.

"Your Dad dared to fire me from D'Atelier."