Molly's smile cracked a little as she tugged at the corner of her lips. "Well, weren't you just living it up there?"
She shot Tristan a quick look, like, what, was she supposed to say she'd been locked up?
Megan narrowed her eyes, cold as ice. "I had aphasia the past six months. I was afraid to make them worry, so I didn't come back. But you? You told them I was partying it up. Seriously, Molly, what's your deal?"
Molly clutched her handbag tighter, knuckles white. Her face flushed then paled, nerves all over the place.
Damn that Megan. Aphasia? Just perfect—explains the silence, the missing daughter act.
She wanted to say Megan had been locked away by Tristan, but she didn't dare. The man sat there like some untouchable king, his presence heavy and fierce. One glance at him and she caught the storm brewing in his eyes, like he could crush anything in his path.
Molly bit her lip hard and

The spacious living room echoed with that one sentence.
Molly instinctively glanced at the man casually leaning against the back of the sofa.
His jaw was tight, eyes cold like a storm brewing under the surface.
With a faint curl of his lips, Tristan spoke slowly, "I'm curious—how exactly did you plan out this little drama of yours?"
Tears welled up in Molly's eyes as she bit her lower lip till it turned pale, "I didn't. I really didn't say or do anything."
Megan took a step forward, lowered herself slightly, and hooked a finger under Molly's chin. "Memory that bad already? You're young, you know. Let me jog it for you."
She let go of Molly's chin and straightened up, arms behind her back. "You kept getting in my head, painting Tristan as this possessive, selfish control freak. You wanted me scared of him, didn't you? Then you fed me the idea to ditch the wedding."
Megan continued, "And j

That night, Tristan didn't get back to Dreamscape Manor until late.
Megan was already fast asleep.
He changed into pajamas, gently lifted the blanket and slid into bed, carefully pulling her into his arms.
But even that small movement woke her up.
She rubbed her eyes, her voice soft and sleepy. "You're back? Did you eat?"
"Yeah, grabbed something. I also got in touch with Brandon Lewis. He'll be back mid-September to check on Grandpa."
Her eyes flew open, joy lighting up her face. "Really? That's amazing! Grandpa might get better."
She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled closer. "You're the best, babe."
Tristan tilted her chin up, eyes glinting. "Darling, Capitol City requires a 3-day cooling-off period after license application." His thumb brushed her lower lip. "By the time the bureaucrats stamp approval..."
She huffed. "So we wait?"
"Justice doesn't wait." His phone lit up with a federal judge's contact. "Judge Callahan owes me for saving his election. One emergency motion later..." He swiped open a court order PDF stamped EX PARTE WAIVER. "...Capitol Family Code §420 waived. Our license gets printed tomorrow morning."
Megan squinted at the judicial seal. "You had a federal judge kill a state waiting period?"
"Darling," he captured her hand, pressing it over his heart, "I'd have him overturn gravity if you asked. Now—Say 'I do', Babe."
"I do, I do..."
Tristan rolled over and pinned her beneath him, staring into her eyes. "I am the happiest man in the world. Let me give my wife a proper kiss."
Moments later, he dragged himself away from Megan's bedroom with leaden limbs, teeth gnashing against the ache in his gut. After locking the door behind him with a rattling hand, he turned the shower knob to its coldest setting—the icy cascade a necessary antidote to the fever that had left him trembling between duty and desire.
The next morning greeted them with warm sunshine.
The sleek black Maybach glided to a stop before the Capitol's Civil Affairs Bureau. As the door clicked open, a polished leather shoe touched the pavement with absolute poise. Megan emerged, radiant in ivory lace that gleamed like morning sun on fresh snow. Tristan followed, his charcoal suit impeccably tailored, and offered his arm. "Shall we, Mrs. Reid?" he murmured, his voice a velvet promise.
They ascended the marble steps together, the air humming with anticipation. Inside, a sharp-eyed clerk glanced up, recognition flashing across his face. "Mr. Reid! Your application is prioritized." He gestured towards a private ceremony room, its arched windows framing Capitol City's awakening skyline.
As the clerk began the vows, Megan's fingers tightened around Tristan's. "I plight my troth to you," she declared, gaze fierce, "through boardrooms and battlegrounds." Beneath her hand, Tristan's low laugh resonated. "I vow to dismantle every obstacle," he countered, sliding the platinum band onto her finger, "to champion your ambition."
Outside, wedding bells mingled with the stirring city, heralding the first chapter of a legacy forged in passion and power.
♥
The Shaw family villa.
A sleek black Maybach pulled up out front. Elliot Shaw and Diane Hartwell hurried outside—after all, a car with the license plate ending in 888 could only belong to Tristan Reid.
As soon as Diane laid eyes on Megan, tears welled up and spilled over. Etiquette forgotten, she ran over and wrapped her daughter up in a long overdue embrace.
"Megan, sweetheart, I missed you so much! You little rascal, why didn't you come see your mom sooner?"
Megan hugged her back tightly. "I missed you too, Mom. Really, really missed you."
Flashes from her past life stormed back—those gruesome photos Molly had shown her. Her parents, their throats slit, their blood soaking into the floor until it met the doorstep.
And little Chloe… first violated, then murdered, cut open in the most horrific way.
So when she said "missed you," it wasn't just about being locked up in Dreamscape Manor. It was the aching, raw relief of knowing her family was still alive.
By her side, Tristan cast his gaze down. That's on him. He had imprisoned her back then.
Elliot, smiling, nodded at Tristan. "Mr. Reid."
Then to Diane, he gently scolded, "She's finally back. Stop crying and get inside."
Inside the villa, Diane clung to Megan's arm while they sat down on the couch. Tristan and Elliot sat in armchairs nearby.
Diane squished Megan's cheeks, her smile sharp at the edges. "Look at you—filling out! Must be living large at that fancy manor, huh?" She pinched Megan's waist playfully. "So cozy you ghosted your own mom?"
Elliot snorted, tugging Diane back. "Pshh, lay off her! Since when you got a problem with our kid being happy?"
Megan tilted her head. "Let me guess… Molly told you that?"
Diane dabbed at her tears. "Yes, Molly said that when she came back."
Megan's smile chilled a degree. Typical Molly—always the master distractor, stirring the pot however she could.
"Oh wow, sis, you and Tristan are back."
Molly's sweet voice rang out as she stepped gracefully into the room, handbag dangling on her arm.
She kept her usual smile on and took a seat on the long couch across from Megan.
Megan looked at Molly, then at Tristan, and said to everyone: "I have good news to announce. Tristan and I are legally married."
"What?" Molly couldn't hide her shock. Her voice spiked a little too much for her liking, so she quickly chuckled, "Oh, I mean—congrats to you both!"
Megan's eyes drilled into Molly, cold as ice. "Hey Molly," her voice was tight, "did you spin some story to Mom and Dad about me? That I was living it up at Dreamscape Manor for six whole months, couldn't be bothered to see them? Is that the crap you fed them?"

Molly's smile cracked a little as she tugged at the corner of her lips. "Well, weren't you just living it up there?"
She shot Tristan a quick look, like, what, was she supposed to say she'd been locked up?
Megan narrowed her eyes, cold as ice. "I had aphasia the past six months. I was afraid to make them worry, so I didn't come back. But you? You told them I was partying it up. Seriously, Molly, what's your deal?"
Molly clutched her handbag tighter, knuckles white. Her face flushed then paled, nerves all over the place.
Damn that Megan. Aphasia? Just perfect—explains the silence, the missing daughter act.
She wanted to say Megan had been locked away by Tristan, but she didn't dare. The man sat there like some untouchable king, his presence heavy and fierce. One glance at him and she caught the storm brewing in his eyes, like he could crush anything in his path.
Molly bit her lip hard and tried to salvage things. "I-I didn't want Mom and Dad to worry about you being sick…"
Megan let out

Chapter 15