MARRIED TO THE DEVIL INCARNATE

NARA

I stood in front of the glass display, my eyes glued to the most beautiful couple’s engagement diamond rings I’d ever seen in my entire broke life.

“These… these would look perfect on Derick’s finger and mine,” I whispered like it was some forbidden secret.

Then, like any normal person would, I bent down to check the price tag.

And my soul left my body.

“What?!” I gasped, nearly choking. “This is more than my whole year’s salary put together! Who do they think they’re selling to? Beyonce?!”

The jeweler, an older lady with tight curls and a tight smile, brought out the rings like she was handling crown jewels. She placed them carefully in front of me. My fingers tingled. I was about to try them on when—

“I’ll take those.”

A deep, smooth, cocky voice boomed from behind me.

I turned.

And God must’ve been showing off when He made this man. Tall. Handsome. Like he was created on a Sunday afternoon when heaven was extra bored.

For a second, I forgot my name. Then he walked past me like I was a store mannequin and reached for my rings.

I blinked.

“Excuse me, those are mine. I was here first,” I said, snapping back to reality.

He glanced at me like I was an insect on his designer suit. “Can you even afford these?”

No. I absolutely could not. But that wasn’t the point!

“Yes, I can,” I lied shamelessly, stretching my hand out. “Now, give them back. I was about to pay for them.”

He chuckled, pulled out his phone, and answered a call right in my face.

“Yeah, babe, just got them,” he said. “Of course they’re expensive. You know I wouldn’t get you anything less than your standards.”

I scoffed. Seriously? My hand still hung in the air like an idiot.

He snapped a photo of the rings and sent it. I dropped my hand to my waist, glaring at him like he owed me rent.

“Can you believe this guy?” I muttered, turning to the jeweler. “Tell him to give me my rings!”

The woman gave a small, sorry smile. “Miss, we have other rings you might be able to afford.”

“Who told you I can’t afford these? Did I say I was broke?”

Before she could reply, Mr. Sunday Creation cut in, “I’ll take them. My girlfriend loves them.”

I saw red.

I snatched the rings from his hand.

“No way. You’re not taking my engagement rings.”

“Give them back,” he growled.

“No.”

“Lady, you’re pissing me off. I need to give these to the love of my life.”

“Well, so do I!”

He raised a brow. “You’re proposing to a man? Yourself?”

“Yes. And what’s wrong with that?”

He laughed. “Figures.”

“Figures what?”

“Clearly, the man doesn’t wanna marry you. With that nasty attitude? You’re probably forcing him.”

I scoffed. “What the hell do you know about love? My boyfriend adores me.”

“Then why isn’t he the one proposing?” he smirked. “Trust me, sweetheart, I’m a man.”

“Please. You’re not even half the man my boyfriend is.”

He grinned. “Your boyfriend can’t even lace my shoes. I could feed your entire bloodline for life.”

I crossed my arms. “Typical rich jerk. Thinks money solves everything.”

“Oh, you’ll dance to my tone eventually.”

“In your dreams, tall boy.”

Then he snatched the rings again, raising them high.

I jumped, but the man was like 6'4". Poor little 5'5" me didn’t stand a chance.

“Security,” he called.

Two huge, mountain-sized security guards appeared out of nowhere and grabbed my arms like I was a purse snatcher.

“Hey! I saw those rings first!” I shouted, squirming like a fish on a hook. “Get your meat paws off me!”

One of them didn’t even blink. Stone-faced. I was about to kick him where it counted when the jeweler leaned in and whispered quickly, her eyes darting around.

“Miss… that’s Nick Gold.”

I blinked. “And…?”

She gave me a look like I’d just asked who the president was.

“Nick Gold,” she repeated. “His family owns the freaking light you’re standing under… the Golden Enterprise… this entire store… everything.”

My stomach dropped.

Wait… Nick Gold? The Nick Gold?

“Yes,” she hissed, already facing forward, pretending this wasn’t happening.

And like a slap from the universe, it hit me. Nick freaking Gold — the heir to Golden Enterprise. The son of Henry Gold, my dad’s former boss. The same Henry Gold my father used to curse at over dinner, spitting out the man’s name like it tasted poisonous.

And his son? Oh, I’d heard the stories.

The one plastered all over the tabloids for sleeping with a senator’s wife. The walking scandal magnet. The rich boy with a new scandal every week — models, actresses, influencers, and one disturbing story about him allegedly “accidentally” buying an entire nightclub just to kick out a guy who called him a spoiled brat. The tabloids had a name for him: The Golden Brat. And from the look of him now, it fit like a glove.

Rumor had it he was immature, arrogant, and a shameless womanizer.

Well, congratulations, world — I could confirm it. In fact, they were being too kind.

The guards loosened their grip, but I wasn’t moving anymore. Mr. Tall, Rich, and Smug strolled out with my rings — our rings — and for the grand finale, he actually had the nerve to stick his tongue out at me like a bratty six-year-old denied candy.

I stood there, frozen, internally screaming.

The jeweler sighed, like this was Tuesday for her.

“You… uh… still wanna see the budget-friendly section?”

I gritted my teeth. “Show me where the peasant rings are.”

Because if life was gonna humiliate me, it might as well throw in a discount.

I stood right in front of the jewelry store, holding the most breathtaking engagement rings I’d ever seen. I slipped one onto my finger. It fit like it was made for me. Sparkly. Shiny. Probably fake. But I didn’t care.

It was beautiful.

It was mine.

And Derick was going to love his.

Yes, it was cheap. Yes, the diamonds might be plastic. But love isn’t about price tags. It’s about effort, and today, I was putting in the most effort of my life.

I held that ring up like a trophy. Like I’d just survived The Hunger Games of love and came out on top.

Because this wasn’t just a ring. This was my future.

My future with Derick.

The man I’d been dating for two years. The man who held me when I cried after losing that big case last month. The man who still hadn’t proposed because apparently he thought proposals were old-fashioned.

Well guess what, Derick?

Surprise. I’m proposing to you.

And to hell with what that jerk in the jewelry store said. Derick was a blessing from above, and I wasn’t about to let some outdated rulebook stop me from locking that man down.

I tossed the ring into my bag, whipped out my phone, and dialed Derick’s number, grinning. The moment he picked up, I chirped, “Hey, babe! I’m coming over!”

There was a pause on the other end, then his voice came through, a little stiff. “Oh… don’t bother. I’m at the office. Working on a really important case.”

I blinked. A what now? Since when?

“Oh… okay,” I said slowly, trying to keep my tone light. “I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied quickly. “Sounds good.”

The line went dead.

I flagged down a taxi so fast I practically dove into the backseat.

“Harrison & Cole Law Firm, please!” I told the driver.

The cab pulled up to the towering Harrison & Cole building, the biggest law firm in Los Angeles. They were known for three things:

1. Never losing a case (Seriously, I have no idea how they do it.)

2. Representing the richest clients in the city (Only millionaires and billionaires need apply.)

3. Overworking their employees to near death. (Myself included.)

Inside, the office was eerily quiet. Most of the employees had already gone home, except for the ones working on high-profile cases. Like Derick.

I headed straight for the elevator. As I pressed the button to the third floor—where our office was—I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.

Mom.

I groaned and picked up.

Mom: “Don’t forget, you have a date with your fiancé tomorrow night at Le Château. Seven sharp.”

I nearly dropped the phone. “Mom! I told you, I have a boyfriend! I’m not marrying some stranger you and Dad picked like a side dish.”

She sighed, sharp and heavy. “That stranger could change our entire financial situation, Nara! He’s the answer to our problems — not that useless Derick.”

I clenched my jaw. “Mom—”

“Derick is a parasite,” she spat. “You pay his rent, bought his car, funded his pathetic law firm, and what did he do? He gambled it away like the worthless bum he is!”

“That was in the past! He’s changed!”

“Sweetheart, the only thing that’s changed is how broke you are.”

I hung up before she could add another word.

I exhaled sharply, stuffing my phone back into my pocket. My mother had never liked Derick. Sure, I had helped him out financially and maybe gone broke at the process, but that was what love was about! Supporting each other! She just doesn't get it.

She’d have to understand. Because after tonight, Derick was going to be my fiancé.

As soon as I stepped onto the third floor, I heard laughter. Derick’s laughter.

And he wasn’t alone.

There was a woman’s voice too. Familiar.

Instinct took over. My feet slowed. My heart pounded. I tiptoed closer.

I had no idea why I was sneaking around. I trusted Derick!

But the closer I got, the clearer their voices became. And then—through the glass door—I saw them.

Derick. Christin. Kissing.

And not just kissing. She was sitting on top of him, and he was holding her like she was his oxygen supply.

My entire body went cold. I slapped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from gasping.

I knew Christin.

She was my colleague. My so-called friend.

And then, as if the universe hated me, Derick pulled away from her, brushing her hair back with a look of pure devotion.

“I love you,”he said.

I stopped breathing.

Christin giggled. “What about her? You know, your actual girlfriend?”

I pressed myself against the wall, my whole world spinning.

Derick rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. She’s clueless.”

Christin snorted. “She’s obsessed with you.”

“I know,” Derick chuckled. “I mean, she paid for my apartment, my car, gave me a loan—and she still thinks I’m with her because I love her. It’s pathetic.”

Christin ran her fingers down his chest. “And what are you gonna do if she ever finds out?”

He shrugged. “She won’t. She’s too blind to see what’s right in front of her.”

At that moment, Christin unbuttoned his shirt. And he let her.

I couldn’t watch anymore.

I turned and ran. My legs were jelly, my chest hurt, and the engagement ring in my bag felt like it weighed ten pounds.