At the Elysian Estate, Leland Alexander’s face was flushed with fury as he slammed his cane against the marble floor.

"Marcellus! Have you grown wings? Getting married is a life-altering event, and you didn't say a single word to me. Do I even exist in your eyes anymore?"

The man in question lounged on the sofa, looking devastatingly indifferent. "Grandfather, shouldn't you be happy I’ve finally settled down?"

Leland’s bluster faltered, his tone dropping instantly. "Well... I suppose that part is true."

"Then what are you so worked up about?"

"Hmph! You know exactly what I’m annoyed about! You knew how long I’ve been waiting for this, yet you kept it under wraps!"

"And yet, you know now."

His cavalier attitude was enough to give an old man a heart attack. Leland let out a weary, long-suffering sigh. "Fine. Tomorrow, we’re going to the Montgomery estate. We won't have it said that we didn't treat Evangeline with the proper respect."

"Understood."

"And your father, he..."

Marcellus cut him off coldly. "Grandfather, I only need your blessing."

Leland sighed to himself. Father and son—two peas in a pod, both far too stubborn to speak their hearts. When would they ever stop tearing each other apart?

***

The next day, Evangeline and Marcellus arrived at the Montgomery estate first. The servants were scrambling to set up, the air thick with a celebratory tension. For Evangeline, the bustle felt like a genuine rehearsal for a wedding she had finally earned. Being honored by her own family was a warmth she hadn't realized she was starving for.

"They're here! They're here!" Nancy Green chirped, running inside to announce the news.

Marilyn Montgomery immediately pulled Edward toward the entryway. "Leland, you've arrived. Please, come in."

Edward gestured warmly, ushering the elder Alexander inside. Behind them, a small army of servants filed in, piling luxury gifts into a literal mountain in the foyer.

"Haha! Edward, we’re family now," Leland said, his voice booming.

"Indeed. From here on out, please look after our Evangeline."

"Don't be ridiculous," Leland countered. "I’ve adored that girl since she was a toddler. She’s as good as my own granddaughter."

As the pleasantries flowed, another figure stepped into the room. Edward’s eyes lit up. "Wilson, you’re here too! Come, sit, sit!"

Leland glared at his son, huffing, "It's his son's big day. You think he'd dare be anywhere else?"

Wilson Alexander swept a glance over Marcellus, then turned his focus to Evangeline. "Evangeline, come here."

Evangeline walked over with a light step, murmuring, "Father."

Wilson’s gaze softened, a hint of melancholy in his eyes as he pulled two items from his pocket. "Evangeline, this was Marcellus’s mother’s. I’m giving it to you in her stead. And this..." he paused, handing over a thick document, "is a transfer for ten percent of Alexander Corp. Just sign."

The gift was gargantuan. Evangeline hesitated, her eyes flickering toward Marcellus. Seeing his future daughter-in-law’s discomfort, Leland stepped in. "Take it, Evangeline."

Marcellus gave a firm nod. Evangeline stopped resisting and accepted the folder. "Thank you, Father."

"Be a good child. Marcellus is in your hands now. May you share a lifetime of devotion and grow old together."

He didn't linger. He turned and walked out, his stride steady, but the teary sheen in his eyes hadn't escaped Marcellus. His father would never truly be happy again; the one woman he had wanted to grow old with was gone. And now, the last piece of her legacy was being handed over to Evangeline.

The room grew chillingly silent. Edward cleared his throat to break the tension. "Leland, we haven't played chess in years. Care for a few rounds?"

"Ha! Let's see if your skills have rusted, boy."

"I learned from the best," Edward laughed, the atmosphere lightening again. Only Marcellus remained in the shadows, his eyes dark with residual grief.

Evangeline pulled him upstairs to her room, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Marcellus, don't be sad."

He buried his face in her neck, clinging to her like a wounded puppy. Evangeline stroked his hair in silence. After a while, her legs began to buckle under his weight. They stumbled, nearly toppling over. Looking at his dazed, unfocused eyes, she felt a pang of guilt.

"I’m sorry, Marcellus."

He scooped her up, sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled her tight against his chest, inhaling deeply as if breathing in her strength. "Evangeline, you smell so good."

"Are you back?" She searched his eyes, relieved when the light finally returned to them. She shifted her stiff body. "You're squeezing too hard."

"Evangeline... don't move." His voice was a raw, strained growl.

She looked down at their tangled, compromising position, her face turning crimson. "Put me down!" She wriggled like a cat with its fur standing on end.

Marcellus chuckled. "I want to stay in your room, Evangeline..."

"Marcellus, are you insane? Our parents are literally downstairs!"

She was stunned. One second he was a broken puppy, and the next he was a predator looking for a kill.

"But everything here smells like you. I like it..."

The soft-talking act again. She couldn't let him get away with it. "Shut up!"

Seeing his "kitten" was genuinely ruffled, he reluctantly loosened his grip. There would be time later.

"Evangeline, let's go on a date this afternoon."

"A date?"

"Yeah. We’ve never had one."

"Where to?"

"The amusement park."

A high-powered CEO at an amusement park? Had he been possessed by a ghost? But under the heat of his intense, expectant gaze, Evangeline found herself nodding before she could stop herself.

When they set off, Evangeline took one look at his sharp, bespoke suit and scoffed. "Marcellus, you can't go to an amusement park like that." She dragged him straight into a mall.

In the casual section, she held up hoodie after hoodie. Nothing felt right; his inherent aura of command made the casual wear look like a costume. She was starting to panic when he reached out and plucked a simple white hoodie from the rack. "This one."

"Fine, that works." She turned to the clerk. "Give me his size and the smallest size you have."

Marcellus’s eyes brightened. "You want to wear matching outfits?"

She beamed. "Yes!"

A beam of sunlight seemed to pierce through his cold exterior. She styled the look, tousling his perfectly coiffed hair until it fell in a natural, messy fringe. He finally looked like a college kid.

"Wow, you two are a perfect match!" the clerk gushed.

They stood before the mirror. Marcellus looked effortlessly relaxed, the messy hair adding a layer of raw, rebellious youth. Evangeline matched him, her high ponytail and bright smile radiating energy.

Their eyes met in the reflection. Evangeline grinned. "Yeah. We look great."

They arrived at the park, the air electric with the roar of crowds and the frantic energy of the rides.

"Marcellus, over there!" Evangeline pulled him toward a roller coaster. "Can you handle this?"

"I can."

"Good, we’re waiting in line."

Their beauty was an anomaly; they stood out like royalty in the chaos. By now, the internet was buzzing with clips of them from the day before, and onlookers were already whispering. A girl nearby shook her friend’s arm. "Look! It’s the Alexanders! They’re so cute!"

Marcellus, who usually loathed being caught on camera, merely curved his lips into a smile. He was in a good mood.

The roller coaster climbed, then plummeted. The G-force hit them, the world blurring into a scream-filled blur. When the ride finally shuddered to a halt, Evangeline’s legs were jelly, her brain entirely rebooted.

"Marcellus," she whispered, her lips trembling, "I think my soul is still back at the first drop."

He laughed, scooping her up as they stepped off. "Why do you play if you’re so scared?"

"Being scared is half the fun!"

He didn't even look winded. His heart rate hadn't even budged. She felt a surge of awe—how intense was this man's mental fortitude?

They did it all—the pirate ship, the sky-swings, the drop tower. Every time, Evangeline ended up pale and shivering, while he looked like he’d just finished a leisurely stroll.

As twilight bled into a bruised purple, she was finally exhausted. "I'm spent. Let's go home."

"One more place. I'll carry you."

He bent down, hoisting her onto his back. He moved with a steady, grounding strength. Evangeline rested her chin on his shoulder, smiling into the dark. "Marcellus, I’m so happy today."

"I am, too."

He had never been to a park as a child; he’d watched other kids with their parents and eventually learned to stop expecting it. His father’s coldness had built a wall, but today, Evangeline had torn it down. He finally understood what his father meant: love was a singular, consuming fire. When you have it, you can withstand any storm. When you lose it, the world turns to ash.

"The Ferris wheel means wholeness. Ride it with me?"

*For the rest of our lives,* he thought, *you are my wholeness.*

"Okay."

She hopped down, eyes wide as she looked up at the glowing, multi-colored wheel. "It’s beautiful."

He watched her, his own voice a low, vibrating murmur. "It really is."

"Let’s take photos!"

She whipped out her phone, snapping a dozen shots against the neon backdrop. "Alright, let's go!"

The cabin rose slowly. The city sprawled out beneath them, a tapestry of lights stitched into the night.

"Look, Marcellus! Fireworks!"

He turned to her instead. He pulled a velvet box from his pocket and clicked it open. "They say the Ferris wheel cabin collects happiness. If you confess your love at the highest point, you’ll be together forever... Evangeline, I love you."

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she let out a broken, sweet laugh. She threw herself into his arms. "Marcellus..."

She couldn't speak; her throat was clogged with raw emotion. She pressed her lips to his, letting the kiss say everything she couldn't.

Marcellus kept his eyes open, watching her. Her cheeks were flushed, her expression dazed and vulnerable. It made his heart hammer against his ribs. The demon inside him was clawing at the bars, demanding he take her right here, in the sky. He clenched his jaw, forcing the fire in his gut into submission.

"Evangeline," he breathed against her lips, "we should head back."

"Okay."

Once they were in the car, he barked a single order to Wylder: "Drive."

Seeing the look on his boss’s face—a mix of hunger and sheer, agonizing restraint—Wylder didn't dare breathe. He floored it, turning the sedan into a rocket toward Elysian Estate.

Marcellus sat with his eyes squeezed shut, his brow furrowed in a battle of willpower.

"Are you okay?" Evangeline asked, leaning close.

Her scent filled his senses, her warm breath ghosting over his skin. He felt like he was going to explode. He had never known a drive could feel this agonizingly long.

Wylder, being a man, knew exactly what was going on. He pushed the engine to its breaking point, tearing through the streets like a maniac.

They finally pulled up to the estate. Marcellus ripped the door open, grabbed Evangeline, and stormed toward the house.

"Marcellus, if you're not feeling well, just put me down!"

"I’m fine! I’ll be much better in a minute!"

She didn't have to wait to find out what he meant. He threw her onto the bed and crashed over her, his lips searing against her skin like a brand.

*What a starving wolf,* she thought. *A lecherous, starving wolf.*

She was too exhausted to move a single toe. Between the park and the next two hours, she had no idea where he found the energy.

"Marcellus... the way you were acting in the car... you were just horny!"

"When the passion hits, it’s hard to suppress! It’s your fault for being so beautiful."

She glared at him. "You’re the cold, ruthless CEO! Is this how you’re supposed to talk?"

"When I’m with you, even steel turns to silk."

He traced his thumb over her face, lingering on the small beauty mark by her eye. Her tears during their intimacy had made it shimmer. It was devastatingly erotic.

"Evangeline..."

The way he whispered her name made her shudder. "Marcellus, pull it together!"

The "Big Bad Wolf" flashed a triumphant, predatory grin. The rabbit never stood a chance.