Chapter 3

"Well done, Avery. Bravo! You did great today!" he snapped, sarcasm thick in his voice.

Avery hesitated. "Wait. Were you really at the Bureau?" she asked, her voice small with disbelief.

"You left me there for hours! You should've just said you had no interest in marrying me!"

"I—I'm sorry, Knox," she stammered. "I didn't know you were serious. I thought it was just one of your impulsive stunts again."

Knox scoffed loudly. "Well, now you know."

“Fine. We’ll do it tomorrow, I promise,” she said excitedly, as if nothing had happened.

Finally, her reckless lover was ready to make her his wife. Or so she thought.

"Forget it," Knox muttered, rubbing his temple as if her voice was giving him a headache.

"Knox! What’s wrong with you?" Avery shouted from the other end.

But the only answer she got was the beep of a call ending.

In the backseat, Isolde, who had been quiet, raised her voice casually. "Was that your real bride?" she asked. "Should I move out now? Maybe she’ll want her box back."

No one answered.

Reeves shot her a sharp glare. If looks could toss someone out of a moving car, Isolde would be doing cartwheels on the highway.

He silently cursed his boss’s decisions. What a mess.

The ride was long and tense. Eventually, Isolde broke the silence again.

"So, where exactly are we going?" she asked, voice bored.

"Manhattan," Reeves replied coldly.

"Oh." She shrugged. "Makes sense. You two look expensive."

After nearly two hours of crawling through traffic, they finally pulled up to a massive house.

It was already dark outside, but the lights from the house made it glow like a palace.

Knox didn’t wait for the car to stop completely before yanking the door open and slamming it shut behind him. He stormed into the house like he was running from chaos.

Isolde stared at the house with wide eyes. The place looked like it had been pulled out of a billionaire magazine.

"Are we home?" she asked, her voice filled with awe.

"Yes," Reeves answered stiffly, then headed into the house.

"Wow! This place is beautiful!" she said, her mouth still open.

She practically ran after Reeves into the house. The sitting room made her stop in her tracks. Her mouth dropped open again.

"Are you kidding me? Look at that couch! Is that a golden frame? That painting looks like it cost a diamond! And what kind of floor is this? I can see my own reflection!"

Reeves sighed and looked like he wanted to die.

Just then, a woman appeared from one of the side doors. She was in her fifties, dressed neatly in a housekeeper's uniform.

"Mr. Reeves, everything is ready," she said politely.

"Mrs. Betty, please take her to her room. Make sure she freshens up," Reeves instructed. Then he turned to leave.

"Wait!" Isolde called out. "I’m starving. Can I go out and buy something to eat first?"

Mrs. Betty blinked. The question hit her like a slap. "Buy food?" she repeated, confused.

Reeves sighed. "She’ll set your dinner. You don’t need to buy food."

Then he walked away quickly before she could ask more questions.

Isolde followed Mrs. Betty, still admiring the house.

When they reached her room, her jaw hit the floor again. The room was massive, with tall windows, soft carpets, and a bed that looked like it was meant for royalty.

"My room?" she asked in disbelief. "This bed could fit four grown adults and two pet puppies."

Mrs. Betty chuckled politely. "Yes. Please freshen up. Especially your hair," she added gently.

"What’s wrong with my hair?" Isolde asked, touching the tangled mess.

"Nothing we can’t fix. I can help you comb it out if you want." Mrs. Betty pulled out a modest, long nightgown. "Wear this after your bath, please."

She took it. "Fine, but if I get lost in this room, call the police."

The moment she stepped into the bathroom, her mouth dropped open.

The place looked like a spa for royalty. Gleaming floors, a massive tub, a mirror large enough to reflect her poor decisions.

“Oh my...” she breathed.

"This is so good," she muttered to herself, still amazed.

Then her mood dropped. She shrugged and sighed. “I don’t belong here anyway. Just a few days, and I’m back to my people.”

She smacked her lips dramatically and began to undress.

MEANWHILE, IN KNOX'S ROOM.

Knox was pacing like a lion in a cage. His face was a mix of anger and helplessness.

Reeves walked in without knocking. He looked just as stressed.

“Why do I feel like I’ve made everything worse?” Knox began, still pacing.

“Slade’s wedding is tomorrow. We’re supposed to be there,” he muttered.

"I remember," Reeves said.

"I already sent Grandpa a screenshot of the marriage certificate. The old man even sent a congratulatory message."

"That was fast." Reeves raised his brows.

"Yeah, and now he expects to see my wife at the wedding tomorrow." Knox muttered.

If it had been Avery, as planned, there’d be no problem. But this new girl?

What was her name again? Did he even know?

He had assumed a new dress and a little polish would clean her up. But after watching her beat up three people like she was auditioning for a wrestling show, he had serious doubts.

How could he take that to meet his grandfather?

“She might give the old man a heart attack,” Knox muttered.

Reeves stood by the door, concern on his face. “What’s the plan now?”

Knox sighed and threw his hands in the air. “What else? She’s going to that wedding. A serious talk, a proper dress. Maybe that’ll help.”

He stood and peeled off his suit jacket like it weighed ten pounds.

“Unless you’ve got a better idea, dear assistant? Your boss is suffering.” He faked a tragic sigh.

Reeves bit back a laugh. Honestly, watching his usually wild boss turn into this panicked mess was a rare treat. He had married a wilder creature and now karma was teaching him manners.

“None, sir,” Reeves said, shaking his head. “We just have to manage the damage.”

“Great,” Knox muttered.

“I’ll be downstairs,” Reeves said, then left the room, before his laughter slipped out.

Knox sat alone, deep in thought. After what felt like forever, he let out a long breath and headed to his closet.

A shower would help clear his head.

Half an hour later, Knox descended the stairs slowly. He stopped mid-step. The scene in the sitting room made his eye twitch.

Reeves stood to one side, stiff as a board. Mrs. Betty looked like she had just seen something terrible. And right in the center of the room, on the sparkling floor, was his new wife.

She was sitting carelessly on the floor, a giant bowl of steaming noodles sat in front of her.

She was slurping them like a professional food warrior, making sounds that echoed off the room.

Knox stormed forward.

"What is this?" he barked, glaring at Reeves and Betty.

Reeves raised both hands helplessly. "She wouldn't listen."

Knox turned to Betty. "Who gave her that mountain of food?"

"I made a small portion," Betty said weakly. "She asked for more… multiple times."

Isolde looked up, cheeks stuffed, and spoke with food still in her mouth. "I’ll pay you back, okay? From that money you gave me. I’m starving."

Knox looked like he might explode. "Don’t talk with your mouth full! That’s gross."

Isolde chewed quickly, swallowed, and opened her mouth. "No food in my mouth now. See? No gross."

Reeves turned to the wall to hide his face.

Knox gritted his teeth. "Get up and eat in the dining room."

"Nope," Isolde replied. "If I break a glass or stain something, you might send me a bill. I’ll just eat here. I’m almost done anyway."

"You—" Knox took a deep breath. "Get up now!"

"Two more bites." She insisted.

Reeves bit the inside of his cheek. Betty stared at the floor like it would swallow her.

And then the door opened. All eyes turned to the entrance.

Dominic Mathford, Knox's grandfather, stepped inside. He wore a dark coat and held a walking stick, though he didn’t seem to need it.

"Son," he said with a smile. "Sorry to barge in this late. I came to see my new granddaughter-in-law."