Chapter 7
“No way!”
A bright-eyed young woman in a pastel yellow dress stomped into the hall, her voice sharp with frustration.
“Damon! You’re supposed to marry me!”
Later, I learned that Damon had defied his family’s plans to marry him off to Rosalie Langston, a well-connected heiress.
Instead of giving in, he joined the army right when the war broke out, disappearing from high society and laying low for
nearly a year.
As it turns out, Damon is the heir to the Clark estate. He inherited not only the name but the title. And with his background, it would’ve been impossible for higher-ranking officers not to recognize him, which explains why he had
always chosen to hand off credit for his military merits to others.
“You don’t have to worry,” he said, standing at my bedroom door, dressed in a tailored black jacket that hugged his broad
shoulders and lean waist.
It was late, but he didn’t take a single step inside as if afraid I might misread his intentions. His voice was low, careful.
“There’s nothing between me and Rosalie.”
I smiled despite myself. “I know.”
“I… I need to ask a favor,” he added, his brow slightly furrowed. “Would you be willing to stay-just a little longer-as my wife in name? If I don’t have someone by my side, they’ll keep pushing me to marry.”
That marriage license had originally been the debt I owed him for saving me.
And now, he was asking like he needed my help.
I couldn’t tell if he was being naive or impossibly kind.
But I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
“…Okay.”
His eyes lit up immediately, a boyish smile pulling at the corners of his lips.
“I’ll make the arrangements.”
What I didn’t expect was the scale of what “arrangements” meant to Damon.
The entire Clark estate was transformed practically overnight. Dozens of event planners, florists, and designers were flown in. Every corner of the estate was draped in white and crimson-the family crest embroidered onto banners that fluttered above the estate gates.
A private team of bridal stylists came in just to design my dress. The fitting room looked more like a red carpet studio than a place for tailoring.
And that was just the beginning.
Chapter 7
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Every Clark-owned business across the city displayed bright red signs:
“Our Boss Is Getting Married-Celebrate with Us! 50% Off!”
Within hours, all of Riverstone knew a wedding was happening-and not just any wedding.
Damon hosted a massive open-air feast along Main Street. No invitation needed. Anyone passing by could sit down, eat, drink, and join the celebration.
On the wedding day, a fleet of vintage convertibles escorted us through main street. My car was decorated with white roses woven into the grill and a long red ribbon trailing behind.
Crowds lined the sidewalks, waving, cheering, filming with their phones. Kids tossed confetti. A local gospel choir performed a love song on the steps of City Hall.
Curious whispers rippled through the crowd:
“Is she that Langston heiress he was supposed to marry?”
“No, I heard she’s like a goddess-Damon chased her for years!”
“Wow, let me get a look at this bride, even royalty wouldn’t get such a lavish send-off.”
“I heard there really was a royal wedding back in Raventon-the princess Alexandra married that rising war hero, Colton Prescott-but I doubt it was half as festive as this one here!”
“I was in Raventon when that royal wedding happened,” someone added. “Princess Alexandra made him kneel to welcome her out of the car. He refused, of course. She gave him the cold shoulder right there on the avenue. The drama was unreal.”
My steps faltered slightly. My ankle twisted just as I was stepping out of the car.
I didn’t even have time to cry out, a strong hand caught me around the waist.
“Easy there, Isla.”
Damon’s voice was warm and grounded. Through the thin veil over my face, I could just make out his silhouette-tall, steady, dressed in deep black, his skin glowing under the afternoon sun.
. “I twisted it,” I whispered.
Without hesitation, he swept me up in his arms.
“What were you thinking about?”
“I…”
“Whatever it is, forget it. It’s our wedding day. Don’t waste it on ghosts.”
His arms tightened a little as if claiming me.
People around us whistled and clapped, cheering louder.
Chapter 7
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The wedding matron rushed after us, flustered. “Mr. Clark! That’s not how this is supposed to go!”
Damon just smiled over his shoulder.
“From now on, whatever my wife wants is how it goes in this house.”
