The room was silent, thick with tension after Bryce's declaration. Every eye in the private dining hall was on them, whispers buzzing like restless bees.
Kasmine sat frozen, her fingers curling nervously in her lap. She felt small beneath the weight of so many stares. The woman across from them looked like she had been slapped, her flawless face twisting in disbelief.
"Your… fiancée?" she repeated, her voice trembling with fury. "Bryce, you can't be serious. She's nothing—"
Before she could finish, Bryce moved.
Without hesitation, he turned to Kasmine, tilted her chin up gently with his fingers, and pressed his lips firmly against hers.
The world stopped.
Kasmine gasped softly into the kiss, her heart hammering against her ribcage so violently she thought it might break free. His lips were warm, steady, claiming her in front of everyone. This time it wasn't impulsive—it was deliberate, a public declaration that left no room for doubt.
Gasps and murmurs filled the restaurant. Some looked away in shock, others leaned forward with wide eyes, but all of them understood the same thing—Bryce Stone had made his choice.
Kasmine's mind spun. She should have pushed him away, should have protested. Instead, she felt herself melting against the sheer strength of his presence. His hand lingered on her cheek, protective and possessive all at once.
When he finally pulled back, the air between them was electric. Bryce's deep eyes locked onto hers, unyielding. "I don't repeat myself," he said quietly, his voice only for her. "From this moment on, no one doubts who you are to me."
The woman at the table clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms, fury burning in her eyes. But she couldn't speak—not after what Bryce had just done.
Kasmine's lips tingled, her face burning red as she tried to catch her breath. She had never felt so exposed, so overwhelmed. And yet, beneath her confusion, a dangerous warmth spread in her chest.
She wasn't just the poor girl anymore. Not tonight.
She was the woman Bryce Stone had kissed in front of everyone.
The air in the restaurant had yet to settle after Bryce's kiss. Whispers continued to swirl around them like wildfire, eyes shamelessly glued to the couple. But one pair of eyes burned hotter than the rest—dark, furious, and unrelenting.
Sitting opposite them, the elegant woman finally stood. She was dressed in a wine-red dress that clung to her curves, her manicured nails digging into her palm.
Her name was Vivian Hale.
Daughter of a wealthy family, rumored to be Bryce Stone's long-time admirer, and someone who clearly didn't take rejection well.
Vivian's lips twisted into a sneer. "So this is it? You throw me aside for some nobody waitress? You can dress her up in silk, Bryce, but she's still trash."
Kasmine's breath caught. Anger flared in her chest, but before she could speak, Bryce's hand brushed her shoulder—steady, protective.
"Vivian," Bryce's voice cut like ice. "Enough."
But Vivian wasn't listening. Fury took over reason. With a sharp movement, she leaned forward across the table and slapped Kasmine across the cheek.
The sound echoed in the hall.
Gasps erupted from the onlookers. Bryce's jaw clenched, but before he could move, Kasmine's hand flew up, catching Vivian's wrist in midair as she tried to strike again.
"Not this time," Kasmine hissed.
Vivian's eyes widened—just for a second—before Kasmine shoved her hand away and stood. She wasn't tall, wasn't intimidating by size, but there was a fire in her eyes no one expected.
Vivian lunged. "You bitch!"
What happened next silenced the hall.
Kasmine ducked her wild swing and retaliated with a sharp kick that sent Vivian stumbling backward. When she came at her again, Kasmine grabbed her by the arm, twisted, and shoved her down against the table. Plates shattered, wine spilled, and Vivian shrieked in humiliation.
"You think you can keep slapping me?" Kasmine's voice shook with adrenaline, her palm landing hard against Vivian's cheek this time. "You'll learn who's trash today!"
The crowd gasped again, some stifling laughter at Vivian's undignified state.
Even Bryce—calm, collected, untouchable Bryce—found himself frozen in shock. His usually unreadable eyes widened ever so slightly as he watched the young woman he thought was fragile turn into someone fierce, someone untamed.
When Vivian finally scrambled back, hair disheveled, face flushed and bruised, she glared daggers at Kasmine. "This isn't over!" she spat before storming out, her pride in tatters.
The restaurant buzzed with stunned murmurs. Some applauded under their breath. Others whispered about the waitress who just stood toe-to-toe with Vivian Hale.
Kasmine, still trembling from the rush, sat down again, avoiding everyone's eyes.
Bryce's gaze lingered on her, sharp but unreadable. "You're full of surprises," he murmured at last.
---
Later that night, back at his penthouse, the adrenaline had faded, leaving Kasmine's body sore and her mind restless. She sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa, the weight of the evening pressing down on her.
Bryce stood across the room, his white shirt undone at the collar, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He was quiet for a long moment before finally turning toward her.
"Kasmine," he said evenly, "you should know something."
Her heart raced. "What is it?"
He set the glass down, his expression unreadable, though his tone was calm and deliberate.
"I don't do love. I don't do forever," he began. "What I want… is a contract. Three hundred sixty-five days. One year. You'll stay by my side, live here, and we will act as husband and wife in every way that matters."
Her eyes widened, breath catching. "A… contract?"
"Yes," Bryce said without hesitation. "In public, you'll be Mrs. Stone. In private, you'll have every comfort, every protection. Your grandmother will never want for anything. But when the contract ends… so will we."
He stepped closer, his gaze holding hers. "You'll belong to me, Kasmine. For three hundred sixty-five days, we'll live as husband and wife. Including everything a real marriage entails."
Her pulse pounded violently at his words, heat rushing through her body at the implication. She swallowed hard, torn between outrage, fear, and something far more dangerous—curiosity.
Because the way he said it… it didn't sound like a business deal. It sounded like a promise.
The next morning, Bryce decided it was time to take Kasmine to meet his mother. Though she was nervous, he reassured her with his warm smile and steady hand holding hers.
When they arrived at his family's luxurious estate, Kasmine was overwhelmed by the size and beauty of the place. She feared she wouldn't be accepted, but to her surprise, Bryce's mother welcomed her with open arms.
"My dear, you are even lovelier than Bryce described," his mother said, pulling Kasmine into a gentle embrace. The warmth in her tone and the kindness in her eyes instantly put Kasmine at ease.
As they sat together in the grand living room, Bryce's mother studied Kasmine carefully. Instead of judgment, admiration filled her gaze. She asked Kasmine about her life, her grandmother, and her dreams. Kasmine answered shyly but sincerely, and Bryce's mother listened attentively, nodding with approval.
"I can see why my son chose you," she finally said with a smile. "You are pure-hearted and respectful. That is what truly matters."
Kasmine's heart swelled with relief. She never expected to be so easily accepted. Bryce's mother, brimming with excitement, quickly began talking about wedding preparations.
"The ceremony must be soon," she said firmly. "I want everything to be perfect for you both. Leave the details to me."
Kasmine blushed, overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events, while Bryce squeezed her hand under the table, silently promising he would stand by her side through it all.
For the first time in a long while, Kasmine felt like she was finally stepping into a family that wanted her, not out of obligation, but out of genuine love.The days that followed were a whirlwind. Bryce's mother, delighted beyond words, threw herself into the preparations for the wedding. Tailors, florists, and decorators flooded the estate, while Bryce and Kasmine were swept into meeting after meeting.
Though it was exciting, Kasmine couldn't help but remind herself quietly—this was still a contract marriage. She had to keep her heart in check, no matter how warmly she was treated.
One evening, Bryce surprised her by sitting beside her in the study with a notebook.
"What kind of wedding gown would you like, Kasmine?" he asked, his tone soft, his eyes fixed on her.
She blinked, startled by the question. No one had ever cared about what she wanted before. After a shy pause, she whispered, "Blue. I've always dreamed of a blue gown… something unique, something that feels like me."
Bryce studied her expression for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Blue it is."
Kasmine shook her head quickly. "But your family… tradition usually says white. You don't have to—"
He silenced her worries by gently placing his hand over hers. "If it's your dream, then it's mine too. You'll have exactly what you want."
Her chest tightened at his words. She reminded herself again—don't forget, it's still a contract. But deep down, a small flicker of warmth she couldn't control had already started to grow.
That night, while she lay awake in her room, she realized that for the first time in her life, someone was giving her more than just duty—they were giving her choice.
And that made the wedding feel less like a contract, and more like a dream.