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⭐️ Chapter 3:
Damn, he's so annoying…
I trailed behind the Xavier guy as we walked down what felt like an endless flight of stairs. He finally led me into a garage, and the cars there screamed luxury. The air was thick with the scent of wealth and privilege. He opened the door of the third car in the first row — a sleek red limousine — and gestured to me.
> "After you, Miss Lara."
I frowned. Why this car? Wasn't it just the two of us?
My question was answered when a group of men in dark suits approached. I froze. They stopped in front of me and bowed.
> "We're here to escort you home, Madam."
I blinked. Home? What home?
> "Sir instructed us to take you to your matrimonial home," one of them replied. "I'm Jeremy, your bodyguard and the head of the Birlings' third security unit," he added with a touch of pride.
Xavier was still holding the car door open, right hand on the handle, left hand pointing inside. I hesitated but curiosity got the best of me. I got in.
The interior of the limo was stunning. As we glided through the large compound, I glanced at the GPS screen — my eyes widened.
We were heading to the Birling villa.
Jeremy had mentioned "Birling," but it hadn't clicked earlier. Wait… the Birlings? That name carried weight. And danger. Who the hell was I messing with?!
We exited the compound. The three-story castle we'd left behind was breathtaking, and I noticed two more cars tailing us. After 15–20 minutes of driving, we arrived at a massive gate. Odd, though—it wasn't that far. We could've walked.
Waste of gasoline, I thought bitterly. Max would've scolded me.
He used to say we had to save every penny for "our future." Lies. He just wanted to spend it on other women. And not just any woman—my best friend. He wouldn't let me use my own money or even drive the car I bought for him… but he had no problem giving Leah a ride because "it was on the way."
Jerk.
Now that I think about it… I was always a maid to him. My chest tightened, and I bit down on my lip to hold back the tears.
Xavier pulled into the lot and opened the door.
> "We're here, Miss Lara."
I stepped out, eyes drawn upward to the gigantic building. I hadn't even noticed the tear that had slid down my cheek until an annoying, familiar voice spoke up behind me.
> "You act like you've never seen a house this beautiful. So beautiful it made you cry?"
He rolled his eyes and strode toward the door.
> "No, I—" I started to explain, but he was already gone.
Why was I even bothering to explain myself to such an annoying dick?
Two women in uniform stood by the enormous double doors. Each held one handle, and with perfect coordination, they opened the doors at the same time. They smiled — beautiful but stiff and professional — and bowed.
I followed Xavier inside. My legs froze.
The sitting room was… gigantic. Bigger than my whole neighborhood.
On the left stood a towering glass cabinet filled with wine, whiskey, and all kinds of alcohol, slightly tinted brown. Stools lined up in front of it. A chandelier hung above — massive, gorgeous, and terrifying. I half-feared it would fall on me. That area was practically a luxury bar.
Xavier must have sensed my unease.
> "Make yourself at home. After all, in a few minutes… it'll be yours."
He walked off.
> "Sit," another voice snapped.
I turned to see a man I didn't recognize, sitting like he owned the world.
> "I know you're confused about who I am, where you are, and how you got here," he said calmly. "I'm Andrew Birling."
Like that was supposed to answer everything.
I knew the name — the Birling family was rich, powerful, and dangerously influential in New York. The kind of people the media never talked about unless they wanted to be shut down overnight.
But him? I'd never heard of Andrew Birling before. Was he lying?
I kept quiet.
> "Xavier," he called.
Xavier returned with a suitcase and handed Andrew a brown file.
> "Here it is, sir."
Andrew handed it to me.
> "Please review our marriage contract."
I blinked. Marriage what now?
> "Mr. Andrew, you sure know how to crack a joke!" I laughed awkwardly.
No one else laughed.
Dead serious faces.
> "Miss Lara," he said coldly, "I hope you're not taking me for a joke. I never joke during serious matters. Review the contract, sign it, and we're done here."
I opened the file, my heart pounding.
And there it was.
A marriage agreement between Miss Lara and Mr. Andrew Birling.
My fingers trembled.
> "I think we've covered enough for today… don't you, Miss Lara?" Andrew's voice cut through the air.
I looked up, searching his face for answers.
But he just looked back at me, eyes glinting… amused. Or mocking.
I felt a flash of anger.
Who does he think he is? Playing games with me?!
But then, as I stared into those cold, calculating eyes, something inside me whispered that this wasn't a game.
I was just a pawn in something much, much bigger.
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💬 Author's Note:
Hope you enjoyed Chapter 3! 💕
What do you think of the cold and mysterious Andrew? 👀
I might be a bit slow updating since I'm using my phone (no laptop yet 😩), but I'll do my best.
Please support me by reading, voting, and commenting — I love y'all 💖