"Dad! Mom! No, you can't do this to me!" Cassidy screamed, her voice raw and ragged.

The only answer she received was the heavy slam of a door. A pair of bodyguards efficiently dragged her into the room and locked it from the outside.

"Lord, what kind of nightmare is this?" Marilyn pressed her fingers to her temples, sighing deeply.

Edward stepped forward, his hands steady as he massaged her brow. "I always thought she had a better head on her shoulders than this. I never imagined she’d actually try to sabotage the entire firm."

Marilyn pulled his hands away and leaned against his shoulder. "Honey, have we just been too neglectful?"

"Don't dwell on it," Edward said, his tone final. "We’ve done everything we could for her."

When Evangeline returned from her studio that evening, she stopped dead in her tracks. The sight of a dozen security guards patrolling the estate grounds made her blood run cold.

"Mom? What is all this?"

After Marilyn filled her in on the situation, Evangeline nodded slowly, keeping her expression neutral. "So, we're really keeping her locked up for a year?"

"I just hope she finds some perspective," Marilyn replied with a tired shake of her head. "Besides, having all these men around... it’s unsettling, isn’t it?"

Evangeline simply agreed.

Inside the room, Cassidy had descended into a frenzy of destruction. By the time she finally collapsed amidst the chaos of her own making, she was utterly exhausted. The household staff, wary of the wreckage, stayed clear until Marilyn eventually gave the order to let her cool down before addressing the mess.

When news of the drama reached Marcellus, he grew restless. Unable to sit still, he drove over to the Montgomery estate and pinged his location to Evangeline.

Her phone buzzed just as she stepped out of the shower. Seeing his name on the screen, she dialed back immediately, her face lighting up as the video feed connected.

"Marcellus? Are you nearby?" she asked, her voice brimming with excitement.

"I am. Can you come down and see me, Evangeline?"

His voice—deep, velvet, and low—sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core.

"Yes. I’ll be there in two minutes."

Evangeline threw on a coat and sprinted down the stairs, her heart racing. She found his car idling in the shadows of the park bordering the estate. As she approached, Marcellus stepped out of the vehicle. His tall, lean silhouette cut into the darkness, and even in the dim light, he was devastatingly handsome.

"Marcellus!"

He caught her as she threw herself into his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply, his voice muffled against her skin. "You smell so good, Evangeline."

She felt her cheeks flush. "I just showered."

He pressed a lingering kiss into her hair. "Do you want to walk, or shall we just sit in the car for a while?"

"Let's walk." She took his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

The moonlight was hazy, the night air crisp. Evangeline sighed in contentment, looking up at him. "So, what brought you here so late?"

"You haven't checked on me in days," he replied, his tone laced with a playful, possessive pout.

Evangeline felt a twinge of guilt. The man was acting like a scorned lover. "Sweetheart, I promise, as soon as the work settles down, I’ll be by your side every single day."

"Good."

They walked in silence for a while, hand in hand. Marcellus felt a strange, overwhelming sense of completion. Watching the moonlight catch the sharp, delicate line of her jaw, he finally gave in to the impulse, pulling her firmly into his chest.

"Evangeline, I want to tuck you away in my pocket so no one else can see you."

She laughed, a bright, melodic sound. "Mr. CEO, you’re becoming a bit of a stage-five clinger, aren’t you?"

"Does it annoy you?"

"Never. We’re destiny, Marcellus. A perfect match."

Looking up at her, seeing her eyes sparkle with genuine warmth, Marcellus was momentarily blinded. He kissed her eyelids, the bridge of her nose, and finally, crushed his lips against hers in a hungry, desperate kiss.

A passerby caught the moment on camera and immediately uploaded it to social media, but neither of them noticed.

When Evangeline finally pulled back, her breath hitching and her expression flushed, Marcellus didn't let her go. He swept her off her feet, bridal-style, and carried her back to the car. As they walked, a stray lock of hair brushed against his cheek—a sensation that felt like it was etching itself onto his very soul.

Wylder, waiting by the car, tactfully opened the door while keeping his gaze strictly fixed on the pavement.

*Finally, someone with common sense,* Marcellus thought. *I’m giving him a raise.*

Once they were inside, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes lingering on her face. "I really don't want to let you go home tonight."

Evangeline looked at the man who was so powerful to the world, yet so fragile when it came to her. A sudden, bold idea struck her.

"Marcellus," she whispered, "let’s go get the license."

His eyes widened, flashing with sudden, brilliant intensity. "Are you serious?"

"I am."

He pulled her into his arms, too overwhelmed to speak, simply burying his face in her shoulder.

"I’ll have my documents ready by tomorrow morning," she promised, rubbing his back.

He nodded, still dazed. "Okay. Yes. Tomorrow."

"I should go back inside now."

"Okay! Yes!"

Watching him act so uncharacteristically flustered, Evangeline leaned in and planted a quick, sharp kiss on his lips before stepping out.

As she walked away, Marcellus rolled down the window and gestured for Wylder, who was just putting out a cigarette, to hurry up. "Let's go."

Back at Elysian Estate, Marcellus spent the next three hours in front of his mirror. He tried on suit after suit, suddenly convinced he owned absolutely nothing suitable for such a monumental day. After much agonizing, he finally settled on a classic charcoal-grey suit, laid out his best cufflinks, the perfect silk tie, and a pair of polished oxfords, before finally managing to sleep.

The next morning, Evangeline woke early. She styled her hair in a chic, half-updo and chose a crisp white dress—the perfect balance of professional and playful. She skipped breakfast, eager to get to him.

When she arrived at Elysian Estate, Helen Meyer was the first to greet her. "Miss Montgomery, back so early?"

Marcellus, who was halfway down the stairs, corrected her immediately. "Helen, call her 'Mrs. Alexander' from now on."

Helen and Oliver exchanged a look of pure confusion, both shaking their heads.

Marcellus walked up to Evangeline, sliding an arm around her waist. "We’re going to the registry office to get the license."

Helen gasped, clapping her hands together, tears immediately springing to her eyes. "Oh, thank goodness! I never thought I’d see the day our young master finally settled down!"

"Come on, eat something first, then go!" Helen urged.

They shared a look and a small, private smile.

At the registry office, the process was quick—photos, paperwork, stamps. By the time they walked out, they were both staring at the small, red-covered booklets in their hands.

Marcellus looked as though he might burst from sheer emotion. He pulled her into a crushing hug. "Evangeline, you’re finally my wife."

"Yes," she whispered, holding him tight. "I’m finally yours."

Back at the estate, Helen practically snatched the booklets, touching the covers with trembling fingers. "If only your mother were here, she’d be so happy."

Oliver nudged her, gesturing toward the master and mistress. "Shh!"

"Oh, look at me!" Helen wiped her eyes, handing the documents back. "I’m crying on a day like this! Oliver, let’s go to the garden and pick some fresh greens. I’m going to make the most incredible lunch for them."

As the staff scurried away, the living room fell silent.

"Well," Marcellus murmured, a dangerous, playful glint in his eyes as he looked down at her. "Now that we’re alone..."

"Hmm?"

Before she could finish her thought, he swept her off her feet and headed straight for the stairs. "Now we can finally focus on our wedding night."