In front of the City Hall.
Cecilia stood frozen, staring blankly at the marriage certificate resting quietly in her palm.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
As far as she knew, they were supposed to apply for a marriage license, hold a ceremony, and recite vows in front of witnesses for the union to be legal.
So what just happened?
What exactly did Liam say again?
"You needed a fiancé for your show. I need a wife for mine."
"I know someone at City Hall. Bring your ID and don't worry, it's just paper. No vows, no real marriage."
Cecilia shook her head, the summer sun blazed overhead, scorching her scalp and skin with searing heat.
"All done." Liam slipped one of the certificates into his pocket.
"So now what?" Cecilia followed a step behind him, bewildered.
"Now?" He flagged down a taxi without even looking at her. "Now we go our separate ways. I'll let you know when the wedding is scheduled."
"And this--?"
"Don't overthink it. Like you said--just a show." He slid into the cab and shut the door, never once looking back.
Cecilia stood dazed on the sidewalk, watching the cab disappear into traffic. Her brows furrowed.
A slow, creeping realization settled in.
SHE HAD DEFINITELY GOT SCAMMED!
Click!
A blinding flash startled her.
Cecilia looked up in alarm--a lots of reporters stood nearby, cameras raised, snapping away at the marriage certificate in her hand.
"Cecilia, is that gentleman who just left your husband? Can you tell us anything about his identity?"
A microphone was shoved in her direction, blocking her path from all angles.
Cecilia ducked behind her purse, hailing another cab with one hand while keeping the document out of view.
"Rumor has it you dumped Ronald for another man. Does your father approve of you jeopardizing the business alliance for love?"
Her grip tightened on the marriage certificate. At the mention of Ronald, she nearly crumpled the damn thing on the paper.
Instead, she forced a smile and gave the cameras a breezy wave--just as the cab pulled up.
The reporters caught it all, the coy tilt of her head, the way she almost flaunted the certificate like a trophy.
The image was perfect, a glowing woman newly in love.
Perfect.
Now the whole city would believe this show.
Including Ronald.
Including her father.
But worst of all--she wasn't even sure Liam was joking anymore.
***
Martin Manor
Edward slammed the newspaper onto the table.
The headline screamed cheating.
Edward Martin's glare could've melted steel.
Across from him, Cecilia lounged on the sofa, sipping her Earl Grey with infuriating calm.
Margaret quickly excused herself from the room and retreated to her bedroom, ears perked and smiling to herself.
Cecilia set down her teacup, glanced at her father's fuming expression, and said lightly,
"You should really watch your blood pressure. A stroke at your age would be...inconvenient."
She tilted her head, all faux concern. "Not that I'd nurse you back to health, of course. But do consider poor Margaret--so young, so vibrant. Who's to say she wouldn't explore other options once you're drooling in a wheelchair? All that MT stock would make quite the dowry for her next man."
"Cecilia!" Edward's fury was boiling over, but he forced himself to rein it in. "Explain. This."
"Exactly what it looks like. I got married."
"YOU DARE!"
"Why nit?" Cecilia rose to her feet, meeting his gaze without flinching. "I'm well past the legal age for marriage--MY DEAREST FATHER."
"YOU INSOLENT--"
"Oh, spare me." Her laugh was ice. "You've turned a blind eye to every scandal I've ever caused. But this? This crosses the line?"
Smack!
Edward's hand came crashing down with a roar. "YOU'VE BEEN ARROGANT FOR YEARS, and I've let it slide. But now you've embarrassed the whole Martins. If you don't divorce, then get out! From today on, drop 'Martin' from your name!"
"MY MARTIN COMES FROM MY MOTHER--NOT YOU!" Cecilia grabbed her purse and walked toward the door without hesitation.
Margaret chose that moment to swoop in, tears glistening like cheap rhinestones.
"Cici, please--" She clutched Cecilia's arm. "Don't leave like this! Apologize to your father. We're family!"
Cecilia peeled her off with surgical precision.
"Margaret," she purred, "save the theatrics for someone who'll actually believe them. That trembling-lip routine? Pathetic."
"Cici--"
"And don't call me that. You don't deserve to."
"CECILIA!"
She turned sharply, locking eyes with her father. Her voice was calm but powerful.
"Do you remember what my grandfather--my MOTHER'S father--said when he handed you MT Group?" Cecilia's voice turned lethally soft. "I do. Every word. And I know you haven't forgotten."
Edward's face darkened like a storm front.
"So long as I hold you up'" she recited, cold precision in every syllable, "you're a masterpiece. The moment I let go?"
A pause.
"Trash."
She stepped closer. "MT Group was never yours. It was my grandfather's mercy. My mother's dying grace."
Her smile showed teeth. "I am a Martin. But that has nothing to do with you."
"Without them?" She laughed. "YOU'RE NOTHING."
The door slammed.
Edward staggered back as if physically struck, his fists bleeding where his nails had bitten into flesh.
Margaret stood frozen, equal parts stunned and grudgingly impressed.
Cecilia's words hit with deadly precision--cruel, clean, and devastating.
That's all it took for Cecilia to eviscerate her father.
***
Outside, dusk had already fallen.
April heat still lingered in the air as Cecilia walked the quiet hillside road, mentally calculating how much she had left in her personal stash.
She always sounded fierce and fearless, but reality had a cruel way of sobering her.
Barely a thousand dollars left.
Idiot.
A laugh bubbled up--hollow, bitter.
The heiress who'd once dropped six figures on a Birkin without blinking was now rationing cab fare.
Pathetic.
Edward, for all his faults, was still her father.
And MT Group? That was her legacy too, no matter how much she wanted to torch it all right now. She'd never sabotage it, not really.
But refuse to playing the dutiful daughter had left her with nothing but principles and a maxed-out AmEx.
Soon, raindrops began to fall--one by one, soaking her hair, her skin, her clothes.
Cecilia broke into a run, but still ended up drenched by the time she reached the main road.
Across the street, she spotted a dimly lit bar. She hesitated, then crossed the street and stepped inside.
Tonight, she would indulge--just this once.