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Chapter 6
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2025-03-06 07:00:17The shrill sound of an alarm tore through Sarah’s skull like a hammer against glass.
She groaned, burying her face deeper into the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut as if that would somehow take away the headache. Her mouth was dry, her limbs felt heavy, and every sound around her felt ten times louder than it should be.
What the hell happened last night?
She shifted under the covers, frowning at the unfamiliar weight of her body. Then, like a slap on the face, the flashes of the bar filtered through her mind all at once.
The bar. The whiskey. The man with cold, piercing eyes.
Her drunken rambling.
Her marriage proposal.
Sarah’s eyes shot open so fast as she sat up fast that made the room spun. “Oh, no. No, no, no,” she muttered, gripping her head as a sharp pain pierced her skull.
It couldn't be real, this had to be a dream. A cruel, alcoholic, induced nightmare. There was no way she had actually proposed marriage to a stranger
She scrambled for her phone, nearly knocking over the empty water bottle beside her bed. Her finger shook as she unlocked the screen, her heart pounding harder than her headache.
Her stomach dropped
There were multiple missed calls and a message.
Unknown: Be at the marriage bureau by 10 AM. Don't be late.
Sarah’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze flickered to the time at the top of her screen.
10:37 AM.
Her blood ran cold.
"Oh my God!"
Last night wasn't a dream, she had proposed actually proposed.
And he had actually said yes.
Damn it, Sarah! Why did you have to get drunk on whiskey of all things?!
She practically threw herself out of the bed, nearly tripping over the sheets tangled around her legs. Her brain was screaming at her to move faster, but her body still felt sluggish from the last night's drinking.
She stumbled into the bathroom, gripping the sink as she stared at her reflection. Her hair was a disaster, half of it still pinned from the night before, heir mascara was smudged beneath her eyes, and her lipstick had faded into a mess.
"Jesus christ," she whispered.
There was no time to dwell on how wrecked she looked. She spun around, twisting the shower knobs to the highest setting and jumping in without waiting for the water to warm up.
The cold hit her like a slap, but she forced herself to scrub at her skin, washing away the remnants of last night's terrible decision.
Shampoo. Rinse. Conditioner Rinse
She was in and out within seven minutes, wrapping a towel around herself as she ran back into the bathroom.
What the hell does someone wear to a last minute disastrous contract marriage?
She yanked open her closet, pushing aside every outfit that wasn't suitable for the ridiculous situation she had put herself in. Finally, she grabbed a sleek, white blouse and a fitted black skirt. Professional, but not overly formal.
There was no time for perfection. She swiped on the foundation, brushed mascara through her lashes and dabbed on a neutral lipstick, all while cursing under her breath. Her hair was still damp, so she pulled it into a low ponytail, ignoring the few strands that refused to stay in place.
She checked her phone again. 10:55 AM
Her stomach twisted.
With one last glance at the mirror, she snatched her purse, stuffed her documents inside, grabbed her phone and bolted out the door.
Taxi, She needed a taxi.
AT THE MARRIAGE BUREAU
Elliot sat in one stiff, leather chairs inside the marriage bureau, his fingers tapping against the polished armrest. His expression was unreadable, cold and detached.
He is dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, he looked like a man who had never once known the inconvenience of waiting on anyone. His presence alone commanded attention, yet he remained indifferent to the glances thrown his way.
Across from him, Lucas, his personal assistant, was pacing near the entrance, phone pressed to his ear, repeatedly dialing Sarah’s number. Each unanswered ring only deepened the tension in the air.
Lucas glanced at the clock. 11:02 AM.
He signed, running his hand through his neatly combed black hair. "Sir, it's past the time Miss Winters is supposed to be her, it's past 11 AM. She’s not coming.
Elliot didn't respond immediately. He simply exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening over so Slightly.
Lukas hesitated before speaking again. "Maybe it was a mistake to take her seriously. She was drunk after all."
Elliot finally stood, buttoning his suit jacket in one smooth motion. The movement was slow but filled with an unspoken finality.
Lucas knew what that meant.
Elliot was not a man who tolerated being made to wait.
Not in business. Not in life. And certainly not for a woman who had clearly wasted his time.
Without another word, Elliot turned his heel and headed to the exit.
Just as he was about to get out of the exit, the doors slammed open.
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