Evelyn turned her head. Her gaze stretched over a man whom she'd never really seen before.
He was at least two hundred and eight centimeters tall, large frame dressed in a pair of ash coloured suit, hands tucked into the pocket of the knee—length trench coat he had on. His hair was very black, shoulder-length, but left in a low man-bun with only a few strands dropping over his face.
She swallowed.
Preston's forehead creased into a frown.
Lyra's mouth fell apart slightly.
And Brandon balled his fists.
"Hello, Geralt."
"It's good you've come, Mr. Mancini. We were just getting to the last part," Geralt said.
Evelyn looked at Geralt. "Wait. This… this is him?"
"Yes." Geralt nodded. "Ms. Evelyn, this is Mr. Zayne Mancini, the biggest shareholder of TDG," he introduced. "Mr. Mancini, this is Evelyn Darkwood, your betrothed."
She looked between the two men and waved her hands, chuckling. "Wait, wait, wait. Betro—what?"
Geralt sighed. "Ms. Evelyn, as I've told you, your father already had you betrothed to Mr. Mancini here before writing TDG to you."
"I don't want the stupid corporation! I never agreed to any of this," she snapped. "How does he give me—"
"When do we proceed with the marriage?" the voice, too new and icy mumbled, silence falling in the room.
She turned her gaze to find Zayne approaching. Close, closer, until he was in her space. He tilted his head, scrutinized her, and looked at Geralt.
Geralt shook his head. "Mr. Sage didn't put down a specific date, so I assume you can proceed whenever you feel like it."
"Then let's get on with it."
"Wait, what the hell?" Evelyn lost it. "Are any of you listening to me? I never agreed to marry anyone, and I'm not going to!"
Zayne looked at her, regarding her with curiosity. "Let me get this straight. You don't want to marry me or you're unaware of this?"
"Both!" she emphasized in his face. "I don't even know who you are."
Preston pinched the bridge of her nose. "How would you know when you've never cared for success? Just running around, doing whatever you want, and being a useless member of this family."
He sent her a glare that scotched her skin. But that only made her madder than she already was.
Her hands flexed and curled into fists.
"You know what, Preston, go and eat sand," she hissed. "You're mad about this? Well, don't come for me. Go to dear daddy's grave and ask him yourself why he gave the corporation to a useless member of the family like me, and not you, his oh so precious favorite son!"
"You bitch!" Preston spat.
She faced Zayne.
"And as for you, Mr. Mancini, whoever you are, I am not interested in marrying you. So whatever deal you had, you did with my father, not me. None of this has anything to do with me."
"That is unacceptable," Zayne's voice, smokey and deep like a cold night, thrummed through her ears, and she watched his eyes narrow. "Your signature was in that paper."
"Signature? What paper? You know what, I don't care." She waved her hands, shaking her head. "I have a boyfriend, so no way am I marrying you."
He frowned.
A step, another step until they were just an inch apart.
"W-what?" She could feel his oozing body heat.
No response from him, only his impassive gaze, pulling closer, making her smaller, until she felt his cold, gloved hand around her chin. He tilted her head to the side, eyes gliding over the spot near her ear.
He felt the tingle in his teeth, the smell of her scent wafting into his nose and clouding his head. Ah, yes, she was his mate—the one he'd truly been searching for.
Evelyn listened to her chest pound. Sparks like an electric were rushing through her body, lungs burning as she held her breath. In what? Anticipation?
Of what?
Zayne bent and leaned in till his nose rested near her neck. One, two, he sniffed twice, eyes pooling to a sudden tint of gold. It vanished as quickly as it came, and he pulled back with a softened expression.
"It is really you." His gaze lowered on her as he said, "I'll see you at the church tomorrow."
….
'At the church, my foot!'
Evelyn scoffed, shoving aside the drama from yesterday to the back of her head.
Zayne Mancini was dreaming if he thought that wedding was ever happening.
She paced back and forth in front of the airport.
The way Preston and Brandon had looked at her… As much as she'd hate to admit it, these two might just assassinate her. It's not like they've ever liked her. They've always thought of her as less, and that didn't seem to have changed.
Before she even went for the will reading, she'd scheduled a flight back to Korea as she had no intention to spend another day with them. Leaving for another country for now was probably the best decision.
When things died down with Preston and Brandon, maybe then she'll figure out what to do with TDG.
As for that man, Zayne Mancini, he was not of her concern. She had nothing to do with him.
Dragging her suitcase, she was just about to head to the gate when an announcement suddenly resounded throughout the entire building.
"There's a runaway bride amongst you and I'm looking for her."
Wait… That voice… It couldn't be.
What in the world was he doing here? And who was he calling a runaway bride?
"Long brown hair, green eyes, average in height. She's in a tailored light blue suit."
Evelyn lowered her gaze to the attire she had on and glanced at the ceiling. He could see her.
"You've got to be kidding me."
She rolled her eyes. Once she got on that plane, she could pretend her father never betrothed her to—
"If you see her, please do not let her board the plane just yet. Like I said, she's my runaway bride, and I'm here to get her."
"Seriously?" She peeked at the ceiling of the airport building.
Of course, the security stopped her at the gate.
"What are you doing? I have to get on the plane."
"Ma'am, please just wait here for a few moments. We've got words that Mr. Mancini is heading over here now. He claims he's your fiancé and—"
"He's not my fiancé. Well, it's complicated," she bit out. "Listen, I'm not his bride, okay? He's actually a bit cray-cray. This is all a misunderstanding, and—"
"What's all the fuss about, hm?" A figure loomed behind her, and she froze instantly.
His cologne wafted into her nose.
Dammit!
"Mr. Mancini." The security exposed his thirty two teeth, and it only further pissed her off.
Zayne's hand wrapped around her chin, tilting her head back against his chest so she could stare into the blue of his eyes.
"Now, where are you off to in such a hurry, wife?"
"I'm not your wife!" she smacked his hand off. "And why did you come here?"
Zayne looked away from her to the security guard. He half smiled, barely touching his eyes. "I'll be taking her home now. We have church to attend."
"What the—HEY!"
The security guard smiled awkwardly.
Before Evelyn could even protest, Zayne spun her around and lifted her by the waist, throwing her over his shoulder. He grabbed her suitcase with his other free hand and began to walk out of the building.
"What the hell are you going?"
"Taking you to the church. I told you I would see you there today."
"And I told you I'm not marrying you," she screamed into his ear, earning a grimace from him. "Put me down, right now, Mr. Mancini!"
"If I do, will you willingly come back with me?"
"You wish!" she snapped. "I'm not going to marry you, ever. I told you I have a boyfriend. Put me down."
"You're never going to shut up about this bodyfriend, will you?"
"Mr. Mancini!"
He let out a deep sigh. "Fine, let's go see your boyfriend then."
"Meaning?" She raised a brow at him.
He shrugged. "I've got something you might want to see. But I don't think you're going to like it at all."