Serena POV
The morning air was crisp when Ethan's black car stopped in front of the house.
No greetings. Just a nod.
That was Ethan Crowe—quiet, controlled, impossible to ignore.
I slid into the car, my bag resting stiffly on my lap. I told myself not to look at him. I failed almost immediately. The tailored suit. The perfectly styled dark hair. That storm-gray gaze felt like it could peel me open without touching me.
"I prefer to skip the ceremony," he said as the engine started. "Marriage certificates are enough."
I blinked, then nodded.
Simple. Clean. No pretending.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward, it was heavy. Final. Today made everything real.
There was no going back.
The Marriage Council building was bright and sterile. White walls. Glass counters. Efficiency over emotion.
Photos. Signatures. Stamps.
No vows. No witnesses pretending to smile. Relief curled faintly in my chest.
And then I saw them.
Damien and Lila.
My breath caught.
"Oh—what a coincidence," Lila said brightly, clinging to Damien's arm. Their fingers were intertwined, smiles flawless. "Getting married today too?"
The room tilted.
Damien leaned into her, comfortable, proud—everything he'd never been with me. The sight burned more than I expected.
I kept my head down, pen steady as I signed the final document. I refused to let them see my hands tremble.
Of course, it had to be today.
I felt it before I saw it—Ethan's attention sharpening. He noticed the way my jaw tightened. The split second my breath hitched. He didn't ask. Didn't comment.
But he saw.
That mattered more than it should have.
We turned to leave.
"Don't worry, Serena," Lila called sweetly. "Damien will take care of me now."
The words sliced deep.
I focused straight ahead. Survive. Just survive.
Then Ethan moved.
His arm wrapped around my waist—firm, unhesitating. He pulled me against his side, controlled but unmistakably possessive.
I froze.
He looked down at me and smiled.
Not cold. Not distant.
Convincing.
"Of course," he said calmly. Then softly, "Isn't that right, honey?"
The word sent a shock through me.
I barely managed a nod, instinct guiding me as I leaned into him just enough to make it real. His grip tightened—just slightly.
I've got you.
Damien stiffened. Lila's smile cracked.
She leaned in, lowering her voice. "Aren't you sick?"
Ethan didn't even look at her.
"We're done here," he said coolly, guiding me forward.
And just like that, we walked away—me tucked securely at his side.
Outside, the doors closed behind us.
Only then did he release me.
I exhaled shakily, my heart racing—not from humiliation this time, but from something dangerously close to relief.
"You didn't have to—" I started.
"I know," he said quietly. "But I wanted to."
That stopped me cold.
As we got into the car, one thought refused to leave my mind—
Maybe Ethan Crowe wasn't the enemy I thought he was.
Or maybe…
He was far more dangerous than I was prepared for.
Ethan POV – Defending Her (Full Version)
I noticed it before Serena reacted.
Lila's smile lingered a second too long—sweet on the surface, sharp underneath. Damien stood beside her, relaxed, watching Serena like this was some kind of victory lap.
Serena didn't argue.
Didn't smile either.
She stood still, shoulders straight, eyes calm.
That wasn't confidence.
That was endurance.
I felt irritation coil low in my chest. Not at Serena—but at them. The way they circled her without raising their voices. At the familiarity of it.
This wasn't new to her.
I exhaled slowly. Enough.
I stepped forward.
Not because I wanted to.
Because allowing it would mean accepting it.
My arm wrapped around Serena's waist—firm, unhesitating. I pulled her against my side, controlled and deliberate. Not gentle. Not romantic. Possessive enough to send a message.
Her body stiffened for a brief second. Then she adjusted, letting it happen.
Good.
Lila froze.
Damien's expression flickered—surprise slipping through before he masked it.
Exactly what I wanted.
I didn't look at Serena. I didn't soften my grip. This wasn't comfort. This was a boundary.
"Of course," I said calmly, my voice level. "Isn't that right, honey?"
The word tasted unfamiliar. Strategic.
Serena hesitated—just a beat—then nodded faintly, leaning in just enough to sell it.
My hand tightened slightly at her waist.
Not reassurance.
Warning.
Lila recovered first, forcing a laugh, but it sounded brittle. She leaned closer, lowering her voice as if it were a private joke.
"Aren't you sick?" she whispered.
I didn't turn to her.
Didn't acknowledge her existence at all.
I guided Serena forward instead, already done with this. "We're leaving."
No argument. No explanation.
The message had landed.
Outside, the doors closed behind us.
Only then did I release her.
She exhaled shakily beside me, the sound sharper than I expected.
"You didn't have to—" she started.
"I know," I said quietly.
The truth slipped out before I could stop it.
"But I wanted to."
The words hung there.
I didn't look at her as we got into the car. The driver pulled away, the engine's low hum filling the silence. I adjusted my cuff, reassembling the walls I'd let slip.
"Get your things ready," I said flatly.
She turned toward me. I felt it without looking.
"Tomorrow," I added. "Don't waste my time."
Her nod was immediate. No argument. No dramatics.
Good.
Distance restored. Control reclaimed.
I dropped her home.
By the time I got home, my irritation had settled into something colder.
That was when I saw my parents' car in the driveway.
Perfect.
Inside, my father stood near the window, hands clasped behind his back like he owned the place—which, annoyingly, he still did in ways that mattered. My mother sat on the sofa, calm, observant, already smiling like this was a pleasant visit.
"We were in the neighborhood," she said lightly.
I loosened my tie. "Go straight to the point."
My father turned. "How is she?"
My mother leaned forward. "Is she beautiful?"
"Do you like her?" my father added. "Is she fit to carry our name?"
There it was.
I exhaled slowly. "However she looks. However, she behaves. I'm marrying her. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
My mother stood and touched my arm. "Your father only did what he thought was best for you."
Of course, she would say that.
"She and I were arranged too," she continued softly. "We learned to live together. To be happy. You should try."
I met my father's gaze. Unyielding. Satisfied.
I gave a short nod. "I'll fulfill the agreement.
Silence followed.
Then my father smiled.
That was when it hit me, it was not relief nor anger, but something far more dangerous.
I'd stepped into a marriage meant to control me.
And somehow, without planning to…
I'd already chosen a side.