No threats

Elena didn't care anymore. She would rather be with anyone than be married off like cattle. With one final glance at Ford, she picked up the pen. "A long ride indeed, Mr. Ford," she said with a faint smile masking the fear bubbling inside her. Her hand trembled slightly as she signed the papers, solidifying a decision that could change her life forever.

Kelvin quickly added his signature as the witness, and just like that, it was done. The lawyer gathered the signed documents into a neat pile and smiled broadly. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Ford Lugard," he announced, handing each of them their copies of the marriage certificate.

Elena held her document for a moment, scanning the words as if to reassure herself that it was real. At least now she had evidence—proof of her new marital status. The lawyer bowed respectfully and exited the room.

Ford turned toward Elena, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets with a confident smirk. "Miss Elena—ah, forgive me, Mrs. Lugard," he corrected himself, clearly enjoying the moment. "You're my wife now, but let's be clear about how this will work."

Elena's gaze was steady as he continued. "This marriage has to look as real as possible to everyone else, but between us, it's strictly business. Our agreement ends when either of us decides we're no longer interested. No strings, no pressure."

He paused briefly, gauging her reaction. "You handle your business, and I'll handle mine. Don't interfere in my affairs, and I won't meddle in yours. Live your life how you see fit, but there's one condition—you don't do anything that would bring unnecessary attention from the press or make them dig deeper into our private lives."

Ford's tone became firmer. "And absolutely no public display of a love life—whether real or staged. Tomorrow, you'll attend a party with me, and—"

"Mr. Ford," Elena interjected, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Ford paused, his brow arching in surprise. He wasn't used to being interrupted, especially not by someone who had just entered his world on his terms. His curiosity piqued, he straightened slightly, his intense gaze locking onto her.

"What is it, Mrs. Lugard?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with a hint of challenge, waiting to hear what she had to say.

"I won't be able to make it to your party tomorrow," Elena stated firmly. "As a matter of urgency, I also have a party tomorrow, and I'll need you to come as my husband."

Ford's brow furrowed as he crossed his arms. "Mrs. Elena, I need you to prioritize mine. So, your party can wait," he replied in a clipped tone, attempting to dismiss her statement.

"And why should I be the one to wait? Why can't mine come first?" Elena shot back, her voice steady and unwavering.

Rubbing his temple in growing frustration, Ford sighed deeply. "Mrs. Elena, here's how it's going to work: you'll accompany me to my event tomorrow night, and next time, I'll go to yours. That's final," he said bluntly, his tone brooking no argument.

Elena couldn't help but laugh, the sound bubbling out of her despite his stern demeanor. She found his attempt to control everything both ridiculous and predictable. "And why are you laughing? Did I say something funny?" Ford snapped, his patience wearing thin.

"Mr. Ford, what makes you think you have the final say?" Elena asked, folding her arms and meeting his gaze head-on. "Let's reverse the roles for once. You'll come to my event first, and next time, I'll consider going to yours."

Ford's jaw tightened, his frustration now plain as day. He stared at her, realizing that this woman standing before him wasn't about to back down or yield to his demands so easily. She had a fire in her that both intrigued and irritated him.

Meanwhile, Kelvin, who had been silently observing the heated exchange, burst into laughter. "You know, I just realized you two are a perfect match," he said, grinning. "Both stubborn and impossible to deal with."

Ford and Elena both shot him a glare, but Kelvin was undeterred. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "Anyway, I'm tired, and it's getting late. I'll leave you two lovebirds to sort this out."

He paused at the doorway, turning back with a mischievous glint in his eye. "By the way, you just got married today. Shouldn't you be planning a honeymoon instead of arguing and going at each other's throats?"

The room fell silent for a moment after he left, the tension between Ford and Elena thick in the air. Both of them stood their ground, neither willing to be the first to compromise. This was only the beginning of what promised to be a long and eventful partnership.

Waving Kelvin goodbye, Ford turned his attention back to the room as the door shut behind his friend. Checking the time, Elena's eyes widened in shock—it was already a minute past eight. Anxiety bubbled within her; she knew she was late, and her stepmother would undoubtedly be furious, possibly even locking her out after the earlier confrontation.

Shaking her head nervously, Elena began to retreat. "Mr. Ford, I don't think this is going to work. Why don't we just call it a night, go home, and rethink things? I really need to leave now. Goodnight, Mr. Ford," she said hurriedly, her hands clutching at her clothes as if to steady herself.

Before Ford could respond, she turned and walked out in a rush, not sparing him so much as a glance. The sound of her heels echoed faintly against the marble tiles as she hurried down the hall.

Ford stood there, his jaw tightening as his frustration built. His hand curled into a fist. What on earth was so urgent that she couldn't even stay to finalize things? he thought, his eyes following her until she disappeared. Her nervous demeanor had been unsettling. She'd gripped her clothes tightly, her body language screaming discomfort. Was she afraid of something? Or was there something deeper going on?

He rubbed his temples, trying to shake the growing irritation. His plan had been simple: marry Elena to meet his immediate needs, but now it seemed she wasn't as committed to their arrangement as he'd hoped. Sitting down heavily on a nearby chair, his mind raced with thoughts. Had he made a mistake? Could he really rely on her to follow through with his plans?

Ford brushed a hand through his hair, his frustration giving way to contemplation. The more he thought about it, the clearer it became that he needed a backup plan—quickly. As he stood to leave, a folder slipped from his grip, scattering the signed marriage documents onto the floor.

Crouching to gather them, an idea suddenly struck him. "The documents!" he muttered under his breath, his lips curling into a sly smile. "I can use these as proof. I don't even need her cooperation tomorrow." He dusted off the papers, his earlier anger replaced with satisfaction.

Elena approached the house cautiously, her heart pounding as she noticed the main door was still open. Did they leave it unlocked by mistake, or are they waiting for me? she thought nervously. She crept up the staircase, pausing with every step to listen for any movement. To her relief, the house was quiet—everyone must have gone to bed.

Once inside her room, Elena closed the door gently and let out a relieved sigh. She jumped in silent celebration, grateful she hadn't been caught. If her stepmother had seen her, especially with the marriage documents in hand, it would have been a disaster. She could already imagine the papers being torn to shreds in a fit of rage.

Elena scanned her room, her eyes darting around in search of a hiding spot. Her gaze landed on the bed. With a bit of effort, she lifted the mattress and slid the documents underneath. Satisfied with her handiwork, she let the mattress fall back into place.

Relieved and finally at ease, she flopped onto the bed.

Stepping out of the car, Ford adjusted his suit and surveyed the scene before him. The venue was grandly decorated, illuminated by dazzling lights that reflected the opulence of the occasion. Loud music boomed from the speakers, blending seamlessly with the laughter and chatter of guests enjoying themselves. Drinks were flowing freely, and the air was alive with the energy of celebration.

The moment he appeared, the reporters sprang into action. Cameras flashed and questions were hurled at him in rapid succession. Ford answered a few of their inquiries, trying his best to keep his responses measured and professional. After a few minutes, his bodyguards stepped in to shield him from the persistent crowd and ushered him inside.

As he walked into the main hall, Ford couldn't help but feel indifferent to the festivities around him. The grandeur of the event did little to excite him—it all felt mundane and repetitive. He was lost in thought when a firm hand tapped his shoulder.

"You're finally here," a familiar voice remarked. Turning, Ford found himself face-to-face with Mr. Luggard, his father. "For a while, I thought you weren't going to show up," the elder man said with a wry smile.

Ford offered a curt nod, suppressing the irritation he felt at his father's remark. "I'm here now," he replied, his tone flat, signaling he wasn't in the mood for small talk.

Meanwhile, Elena sat before her vanity mirror, brushing her hair with deliberate slowness. The weight of the situation didn't faze her; she was determined to take her time. She didn't care if she was running late. Tonight, she was going to make everything clear—with or without her husband. She had the marriage certificate, and that alone was her trump card.

Her stepmother's shrill voice echoed down the hallway, breaking the calm. "Elena! I know you're intentionally trying to delay us, but let me remind you—your little schemes won't work. Your stepsister will be introduced to her rich, handsome husband tonight. The first son of Mr. Luggard. While you? You'll be tied to the other son. So, get used to it!"

The venom in her stepmother's voice was unmistakable, but Elena barely flinched. Before she could respond, her father appeared, his expression dark with barely contained anger. "Elena," he said in a low, threatening tone, "don't make me lose my temper today. Behave yourself. If you mess this up for us, mark my words—you'll never hear from your son again."

Her father's words hit her like a thunderbolt. Her son? She froze, her heart pounding in disbelief. Sweat began to drip from her forehead as her hands trembled. Her voice faltered, and her eyes filled with tears. What did he mean by that? He had told her years ago that her son had died. The possibility that he had lied to her all along sent a wave of confusion and anguish crashing over her.

Elena's resolve wavered. Struggling to steady her breathing, she clutched the edge of the vanity. Her father's threat hung heavily in the air, and she couldn't tell if he was bluffing or serious. She stood abruptly, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. Without much thought, she grabbed her handbag and followed them out of the room, her steps hesitant yet determined.

As they reached the front door, Elena abruptly stopped. Her mind raced back to her marriage documents. What if they saw them? she thought, realizing that losing the papers could be catastrophic. Her father's earlier threat echoed in her mind, planting seeds of doubt. Was he just trying to manipulate her into compliance, or was there some truth to his words?

Laughing bitterly under her breath, she muttered, "So that's his plan, huh? Well, not this time." She turned back, storming into her room to retrieve the documents. Pulling them from their hiding place beneath her mattress, she slipped them securely into her handbag.

Standing before the mirror, Elena took a moment to compose herself. "You can do this," she whispered, her voice resolute. With one last glance at her reflection, she smoothed her dress and left the room, ready to face whatever awaited her downstairs.