Chapter 11

"You're joking..."

Elaine crossed her arms over her chest, a smug smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"You think so?" she challenged, tilting her chin slightly upward as victory gleamed in her eyes. "Let me guess—you hired someone to make the video and sell it to me. Predictable. When your father mentioned it, I didn't believe him. But judging by the look on your face, I'd say your scheming has been confirmed."

Justin clenched his teeth, his jaw tightening. His plan was unraveling, thread by thread. How the hell had his father found out? Shit. What now?

"What video?" He forced a tone of bewilderment, eyes widening in mock confusion. "What are you talking about, Elaine?" he added, his voice a pitch too high, his expression teetering between innocence and desperation.

Elaine simply shook her head, letting out a low, knowing laugh. "Of course, you'll play dumb. Typical you." Her smile broadened as she added, "But it doesn't matter. We're smarter. And yes, this is our wedding."

Behind them, Leticia lay still, feigning sleep but listening intently. A mix of amusement and pity flickered in her thoughts as she observed her boss's predicament. Justin had wanted to wriggle out of this engagement with Elaine—an engagement practically thrown at him—but somehow, he'd managed to speed up the train heading straight for disaster. Poor guy... His father really wasn't one to toy with.

Justin was beginning to crack under the pressure, his panic obvious to anyone paying attention. He wanted to bolt, to vanish from this ambush entirely. And yet, he had to maintain his composure.

"Elaine." He stepped closer, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. His smile was soft, practiced, a desperate lifeline. "I don't know anything about any video, but one thing I do know about you..." He let the sincerity in his voice tighten just a fraction. "You've always wanted your dream wedding. And this?" He gestured toward the rundown church that barely held the promise of romance. "This isn't it."

Nice save! Leticia nearly applauded. It was a hell of a performance. Justin deserved an award for the sheer brilliance of his acting. Even she almost believed he'd grown a shred of consideration for Elaine's feelings.

Elaine's steely expression faltered, softening with unexpected trust. She smiled, a blush faint on her cheeks. "You're right," she admitted. "I don't want a shabby wedding. But your father—"

"Fuck my father." Justin cut her off, the harshness of his words underscored by a crooked, almost imploring grin. "This engagement is about you and me, Elaine. He's nothing more than a nosy old man with too much time on his hands. Look, I might not be the best partner out there—probably the worst, if I'm being honest—but you've always been my first choice."

Leticia's jaw practically hit the floor. How many women had this man duped with such recycled nonsense? Her shock was palpable, though thankfully unnoticed by anyone but herself.

Elaine blinked, her face softening further as if the cracks of doubt had finally been sealed. "Did you really not see the video?" she asked, her tone edged with an innocence that made Leticia's heart sting faintly.

"I swear on my biological parents," Justin said, his voice unwavering, "I didn't."

No way. He was going too far.

Sadness clouded Elaine's face as she slowly pulled her phone from her purse, her movements almost mechanical. She held it up to Justin, her expression crushed, and displayed the damning video along with a string of incriminating messages.

Justin cradled his head in his hands like a man watching his world crumble. Leticia, from the backseat, almost pitied him. *If McFarlane already sent this video to Elaine, what was the use of all his theatrics now?*

"What the..." Justin started, then paused to piece together what little dignity he had left. "Listen, Elaine, I swear—and I know you won't believe me—but this was *before* everything. Before I agreed to the six months of knowing you. I..." He softened his tone, gripping for sincerity. "I want to try to get to know you, Elaine. I really do."

Elaine stared at him for a beat, then threw her arms around his shoulders, her voice trembling with emotion.

"I believe you, Justin," she whispered.

From the car, Leticia buried her face in her hands, wishing she could leap out and shake some sense into Elaine. *This is an expensive mistake,* she thought bitterly, *and she'll learn the hard way.*

Elaine stepped back and beamed. "Fine, Justin! But only if you'll come with me and declare this for everyone to hear. I'll wait—we'll plan my dream wedding and get married in six months!" She paused for breath, tears glimmering in her eyes. "I love you, Justin."

Justin's face twisted briefly into an expression of sheer disgust, but he quickly masked it, nodding stiffly. "Sure," he said flatly. "Let's go to the church."

And they went, leaving Leticia alone in the car, shaking her head in exasperation.

The moment they entered the humble church, the organist struck up a jarring rendition of the wedding march. Justin winced, his head snapping toward Elaine, desperately hoping she'd call this madness to a halt.

Elaine didn't. In fact, she lit up.

Everyone inside—their families, no more than ten people—rose to their feet as if rehearsed. The priest at the altar grinned unnervingly, while Elaine's parents looked delighted. Only Riley, Justin's sister, stood apart from the scene. Her expression was a mix of fury and anguish, her disheveled appearance matching her mood.

And then, finally—mercifully—Elaine spoke.

"No! I don't want this wedding!" she exclaimed, her voice ringing with determination. The small audience froze. Then she turned to Justin, her eyes brimming with love and excitement. "I want it in six months. I want my *dream wedding*! In a cathedral! It should be magical! Look at me—I'm not even in a wedding gown! I don't want this!"

Justin's father shot out of his seat, his face darkening as he glared at his son. "Oh, son! What did you do!?"

*I screwed your plans, Daddy...* Justin thought to himself, but he didn't dare say it aloud.

Instead, he kept his tone measured, a smirk pulling at the edges of his lips. "Doing right by my wife-to-be. I wouldn't punish her with a shabby wedding for the sake of my... less morally inclined life." His smirk grew sharper, a subtle threat buried in his words. "I'll give her the wedding she deserves—in six months." He paused deliberately. "As for the blackmail ransom? Don't worry about it. I'll handle it. No need for concern."

McFarlane's face darkened, his temper finally snapping. "No! You will *not* pay off a criminal! I've already set my agents on him. They'll find that son of a bitch, mark my words!" His fists clenched as his voice boomed across the church. "You two… do as you damn well please!" He stormed out, slamming the door behind him in a fit of rage.

Mission accomplished. Justin had saved himself—at least for now.

The remaining guests quickly dispersed, disappointed by the unexpected turn of events. Riley, however, lingered at the door. She clutched her purse tightly, oversized sunglasses hiding her puffy, tear-streaked eyes.

"Hi, brother. Hi, Elaine," Riley said, her voice sharp yet exhausted.

Justin's brow quirked. "Rough night?"

Riley smiled faintly, her lips curving up with more spite than mirth. "Not as rough as this morning. Dragged out of bed for this circus? Honestly, I'd rather still be sleeping." She waved a hand lazily. "Anyway, where's, uh… what's his name again?"

"Dexter?" Justin offered.

"That's the one." She snapped her fingers, nodding.

Justin shrugged. "Sleeping off his *own* rough night."

Riley arched a brow but didn't press further. "Hmm. Well, I'm heading home now, bro. See you in six months."

"Haha. Very funny," Justin muttered as she turned to leave.

Elaine had stayed oddly quiet throughout the exchange, her eyes glued to her phone as though tuning them both out. When Riley finally left, Elaine broke her silence, shaking her head.

"No offense," she began, her voice laced with mockery, "but your sister really needs to get a life."

Justin's smile stiffened. He laughed it off, but deep down, a protective rage simmered. His sister was the one person he'd always go to war for.

"Okay, Elaine," he said with a forced grin. "I've got a meeting in an hour. See you later."

"Okay, baby," she replied sweetly, wrapping her arms around him for a quick hug.

The moment Justin stepped outside the church, his demeanor shifted completely. Smiling like a champion wrestler after a hard-won match, he strutted toward his car, his victory sweet on his lips. But as he approached, he spotted Dexter—or rather, Leticia—standing by the driver's door, her face tight with barely suppressed irritation.

"You're awake, I see!" Justin greeted, still riding high on his win. "So, you're good to drive now?"

Leticia kept her voice calm, though the edge in her tone was hard to miss. "I am good to drive, sir," she replied curtly.

Justin's confidence faltered for a moment. He could sense the tension, but instead of addressing it, he climbed into the car and reclined in his seat.

The drive back to the office was nearly three hours, and for the first hour, the car was steeped in thick, uncomfortable silence. Justin shifted restlessly, the quiet eating away at his nerves.

"We're really going to keep this up the whole way?" he finally blurted out, unable to stand it any longer.

"Sir?" Leticia replied, her tone neutral but distant.

"I'm a monster," Justin admitted flatly, staring out of the window.

Leticia said nothing.

"I should have married her in the church, shouldn't I?" he added, half-joking but clearly unsettled.

This time, Leticia let out a small chuckle. "It was your decision, sir."

Justin smirked faintly, glancing at her. "I deceived everyone."

Now Leticia's laugh was more genuine. "Well, definitely *not* your father. That man seems to know everything."

Justin's jaw dropped slightly in shock. His P.A. wasn't wrong. How did he always manage to hit the nail on the head?

"I see why Welsh recommended you," he said thoughtfully.

Leticia cast him a brief sideways glance, curious where this was going.

"I need a way out of this," Justin continued, his voice taking on a desperate edge. "Something that will throw my dad off completely—make him *call off* the wedding. Come up with an idea, and I'll pay you five million dollars."

Leticia nearly slammed the brakes in shock. "Five million?" she repeated, her voice cracking. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel to stop herself from shouting *"I accept!"* right then and there.

"Yes," Justin said firmly. "Just help me. Please, Dexter."

She took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "I'll... I'll need that in writing, sir."

Justin grinned. "Consider it done."