Wedding of Convenience

The next day, Sabrina stood in front of City Hall, feeling ridiculously out of place. The grand building loomed over her, its pristine marble steps and towering columns making her painfully aware of how unpolished she looked.

She tugged at her sleeves, suddenly wishing she had chosen something—anything—other than her old coat.

As she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her worn sneakers looking downright pitiful against the gleaming pavement.

Was she really about to do this? Get married to a man she barely knew, in a place where people handled official, important business? She scoffed at herself. Then again, what could be more official than tying herself to a smug billionaire for the sake of a deal?

Sabrina sighed, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, too late to back out now," she muttered, squaring her shoulders.

Now, where the hell was he?

She glanced around, scanning the crowd for any sign of him. Surely, a man like Thaddeus Gillcrest would stand out—probably in some expensive, tailored suit, looking effortlessly important while she stood there like an underprepared extra in someone else's movie.

But as the minutes ticked by, her confidence started to waver.

Was he even going to show up?

Sabrina let out a frustrated sigh and crossed her arms. Maybe she'd been stupid to believe a man like that would actually go through with this. He'd probably gotten a good laugh out of their ridiculous agreement and moved on with his life, leaving her standing here like an idiot.

She checked the time on her phone, tapping her foot impatiently. "Unbelievable," she muttered. "I should've made him sign something."

Just as she was about to give up and turn around, the sound of polished shoes clicking against the pavement caught her attention. She looked up, and there he was—Thaddeus Gillcrest, as composed as ever, walking toward her with that infuriating, unreadable expression.

And of course, he was wearing the suit. A sleek, perfectly tailored, probably-ridiculously-expensive suit that made him look like he was here to buy the whole damn building, not get hitched in it.

He stopped a few steps away, his gaze flicking over her from head to toe. Then, with an arched brow, he smirked disdainfully.

"Nice coat."

Sabrina huffed, tugging at her sleeves as if that would somehow make her look less like a stray that had wandered into the wrong part of town. "Glad you noticed," she shot back. "Figured I'd dress appropriately for such a romantic occasion."

Thaddeus let out a dry chuckle, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. "Well, at least one of us is dressed like this is an actual wedding."

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, don't tell me you picked out a tux for this."

"I considered it," he said, smirking. "But I figured I'd save that for when we have guests."

Sabrina rolled her eyes. "Right. Because a city hall wedding is so glamorous."

He tilted his head, studying her for a beat too long. "You're awfully chatty for someone who was so eager to get this over with. Having second thoughts?"

She exhaled sharply and crossed her arms. "No. Just making sure you don't suddenly remember some urgent billionaire thing to do and vanish before we sign the papers."

"Tempting. But I'm a man of my word." He took a step closer, lowering his voice slightly. "Besides, I still owe you a proper prize, don't I?"

Sabrina swallowed, her fingers instinctively tightening around the fabric of her coat. This was happening. It was real. And the most ridiculous part?

She still had no idea what she was getting herself into.

The clerk barely glanced up as she slid the marriage registration forms across the counter. "Fill these out. IDs, please."

Sabrina grabbed a pen, glancing at Thaddeus, who looked far too calm for someone about to legally bind himself to a near stranger. Meanwhile, she felt like she was signing away her soul—or at least her sanity.

As she scribbled her details, she peeked at his form. Thaddeus Lionel Gillcrest. Yep, still ridiculous.

The clerk took the completed forms and began typing. "Marriage by mutual consent, no waiting period required. Do you both confirm this is a voluntary decision?"

Sabrina nodded. "Yep."

Thaddeus smirked. "For now."

She shot him a glare, but the clerk was unfazed, probably used to all kinds of weird dynamics at this desk.

The clerk barely looked up as he flipped through the paperwork. "Alright," he muttered, pushing the documents toward them. "Just sign here and here. Once it's notarized, you'll receive your official certificate."

Sabrina hesitated for a second before grabbing the pen. This was it. No flowers, no vows, no sentimentality—just a legal agreement sealed with ink. She scrawled her name down, her grip tightening on the pen before sliding the paper toward Thaddeus.

He took it without a word, his expression unreadable. No hesitation, no sign of doubt. Just a quick, efficient signature, as if he were signing off on a business contract rather than a marriage certificate.

A few stamps with a dull thud, a final click of the keyboard, and just like that—

"Congratulations," the clerk said flatly. "You're now legally married."

Sabrina barely had time to process the words before Thaddeus turned on his heel. Without sparing her a glance, he stepped toward the door and held it open. "Let's go, Mrs. Gillcrest," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Sabrina exhaled sharply. She had officially married the most insufferable man on the planet.

She groaned. Oh, she was definitely going to regret this.

For a moment, she just stood there, gripping the edge of the document. No warmth, no acknowledgment—nothing. Just cold indifference.

Swallowing the strange knot in her throat, she followed him out.

Thaddeus didn't bother waiting for her reaction. He strode ahead with his usual air of authority, barely slowing his steps as he tossed a glance over his shoulder.

"Come," he said, his tone as sharp and impersonal as ever. "We're leaving."

Sabrina blinked, gripping the sleeves of her coat. Leaving? Just like that?

His long strides carried him to the sleek black car waiting at the curb. The driver was already holding the door open, standing stiffly beside the vehicle. Thaddeus didn't spare him a glance as he slid inside, expecting—no, assuming—she would follow.

Sabrina lingered for a second, resisting the urge to scowl. Typical. No congratulations, no acknowledgment of the absurdity of the situation. Just orders.

With a huff, she squared her shoulders and marched toward the car. "Well, at least he didn't leave me behind," she muttered under her breath.

The moment she slipped inside, the door shut with a soft click, sealing her in with the most infuriating man she had ever met.

Thaddeus didn't waste a second. The moment Sabrina settled into the seat, he reached into his suitcase and pulled out a crisp stack of documents, shoving them toward her without so much as a glance.

"Sign these," he said flatly.

Sabrina frowned, taking the papers with a wary look. "What is this?" she asked, flipping through the pages.

His jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. "An agreement," he replied, his tone clipped. "Outlining the terms of our arrangement."

Her fingers stilled over the paper as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Didn't we already make a deal?"

Thaddeus finally met her gaze, his sharp eyes unreadable. "Now it's in writing."

Sabrina's eyes darted across the pages, her brow furrowing as she skimmed through the marriage agreement. The language was formal, cold, and filled with legal jargon that made her head ache.

Before she could question anything, Thaddeus leaned back against the seat, his gaze fixed ahead. "Before you go any further," he said, his voice smooth but firm, "let me make one thing clear."

She glanced up warily.

"Our arrangement has three conditions," he continued. "One—you will fulfill your role as my wife in public. That means attending events, behaving appropriately, and keeping up appearances. No exceptions."

Sabrina arched a brow but remained silent.

"Two—you will not interfere in my personal affairs. My business, my decisions, my life outside of this marriage are none of your concern."

She folded her arms, already feeling annoyed. "Sounds delightful," she muttered under her breath.

Thaddeus shot her a warning look but went on. "And three—this marriage will last exactly one year. No more, no less. After that, we go our separate ways."

Sabrina's fingers tightened around the document. "That's it?" she asked, her voice laced with skepticism.

"That's it." His expression was unreadable, his tone final. "You can take it or leave it."

Sabrina stared at him, then back at the document in her hands. Her grip tightened as a hundred questions swirled in her mind.

"One year," she repeated slowly, testing the words on her tongue. "And then we walk away like none of this ever happened?"

Thaddeus gave a curt nod. "Exactly."

She exhaled sharply, her fingers tapping against the paper. "And what do I get out of this?"

His eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Security. Opportunities. You won't have to worry about your restaurant struggling. You'll have my name, my influence—" He smirked slightly. "—and you'll be free to leave when the time comes."

Sabrina narrowed her eyes. "And you? What do you get?"

His smirk faded. "I get what I need."

That was the vaguest answer she'd ever heard, but she had a feeling prying wouldn't get her anywhere.

She glanced at the document again, then at the man sitting across from her. Thaddeus Gillcrest was powerful, rich, and maddeningly unreadable.

A deal with him was risky, but so was walking away.

After a long pause, she let out a slow breath.

"Fine," she said, lifting her chin. "I'll do it."

Sabrina smirked, tapping a finger against the contract. It's more than she could ask for.

Thaddeus arched a brow, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of an explanation.

Because this wasn't just a deal to her.

One year. That was all she needed.

Within that time, she would reclaim what was rightfully hers. The name, the status, the position in the Baelleigh family that had been stripped away from her.

This wasn't just about security or survival. It was about taking back what belonged to her in the first place.

And if Thaddeus Gillcrest was the key to making that happen?

So be it.