Bailey POV

His words, simple and direct, resonated deep within me, stirring a fragile hope I hadn't realized I still possessed. He wasn't just accepting my impulsive proposal; he was taking ownership, promising something more than just an escape.

"Just… don' t be late," I managed, a small smile finally breaking through my guarded expression. "Please. Don' t be late."

He met my gaze, his eyes serious now. "I won' t. I promise."

I walked back into the Robinson mansion that evening, feeling lighter than I had in years. The air in the dining room was thick with the scent of roasted lamb and unspoken tension. My parents were at the head of the long table, Holt beside my father. And across from Holt, looking utterly smug, sat Chandra, her hand resting casually on Kurtis' s arm. Kurtis stiffened when he saw me, his eyes darting away.

My parents exchanged uneasy glances. "Bailey," my mother said, her voice strained. "Please, join us. We were just about to eat."

I shook my head. "No, thank you. I' m not hungry." I started to turn away, heading for the stairs.

"Bailey, wait." My father' s voice was firm. "We need to talk. We have an announcement."

I stopped, my hand on the banister, a cold premonition settling in my stomach. I turned slowly, my eyes lingering on Kurtis and Chandra. They both avoided my gaze.

My father cleared his throat. "We are delighted to announce the engagement of our beloved Chandra to Kurtis Meyers." He beamed, as if he expected applause.

The words hit me, but surprisingly, they didn' t sting. They simply confirmed what I already knew, what I had seen. My gaze flickered to Kurtis. He stared at his plate, his face a pale mask. He couldn't even look at me.

A bitter, humorless laugh escaped my lips. It was quiet, but it cut through the silence of the dining room.

"Bailey, darling," my mother began, her voice falsely sweet. "We know this might be difficult for you, but Kurtis and Chandra have found true happiness. It' s for the best, really. You and Kurtis… you were always so different."

I cut her off, my voice calm, almost detached. "I have no opinion, Mother. None at all." I looked directly at Kurtis and Chandra. "Congratulations. I wish you both immense joy." My words were a poisoned arrow, delivered with a smile.

Kurtis winced. Chandra' s triumphant smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty.

I turned and walked upstairs, the sound of my own footsteps echoing in the silence. I reached my room and closed the door softly. A minute later, a knock.

"Bailey, please, open the door," Kurtis' s muffled voice pleaded from the other side.

I ignored him. He knocked again, more insistently. "Bailey, I know you' re upset. But we can talk about this. Please, just listen."

I opened the door, just a crack, and stared at him, my face devoid of emotion.

He pushed the door open gently, stepping inside. He looked desperate, his eyes pleading. He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away.

"Bailey, you' re being irrational," he said, his voice soft, coaxing. "You' re acting out because of the gala. I understand you' re hurt. But this… this marriage you' re planning? It' s a mistake. A terrible mistake."

I watched him, a hollow feeling in my chest. He actually thought I was just throwing a tantrum. He truly believed I was still the same girl who chased his approval, who lived for his smiles.

"You don' t understand anything, Kurtis," I said, my voice cold.

"I do!" he insisted. "I care about you, Bailey. I always have. But Chandra… she needs me. She' s fragile. And you and I… we' re better as friends. Business partners, maybe." He took a deep breath. "Look, I can still ensure your position at Robinson Dynamics. And I can even… I can even put in a good word for you with some of my contacts, help you find a suitable match. Someone financially stable, someone who understands your… unique interests."

I stared at him, my mind flashing back to his words on the stage. Rules are rules. Especially when the reputation of Robinson Dynamics is at stake. And then, his quiet betrayal, his eyes avoiding mine. My dear sister Chandra.

I remembered a conversation from weeks ago, after I' d returned. He had said, "Bailey, you' re so brilliant, so detached from all this social nonsense. It' s refreshing. But sometimes, you need to play the game. You need to smooth things over. Chandra, she understands that. She' s so much more… adaptable."

Adaptable. That meant compliant. That meant not challenging the family' s old ways. It meant not being me.

Now, he stood here, offering me a consolation prize, a token of pity, as if I were some broken toy. He didn' t just betray me; he utterly misunderstood me. He never saw me, not truly. I was just another asset, another strategic alliance, easily traded for a more convenient one.

"You want to find me a suitable match?" I repeated, my voice a dangerous whisper. "You think I need your help, Kurtis?"

He nodded, earnest. "Of course, Bailey. You' re family. I want to see you happy. But not like this. Not with… him. A maintenance worker. It would completely ruin your social standing."

My blood ran cold. He genuinely believed that my worth, my happiness, was tied to my social standing, to who I married. The man I had loved, the man I had planned a future with, was a stranger. A shallow, calculating stranger.

A wave of pure, incandescent rage surged through me, burning away the last vestiges of hurt and disappointment. I pushed him, hard, shoving him back.

"Get out!" I screamed, my voice raw, echoing in the room. "Get out of my room! Get out of my life!"

He stumbled back, shock etched on his face. "Bailey, don' t be like this…"

"GET OUT!" I roared, pointing towards the door.

He looked at me, a flicker of fear in his eyes, then turned and fled. I slammed the door shut, my body trembling with a fury I hadn' t known I possessed.

I heard the whispers from downstairs again, muffled. They were planning Chandra' s birthday celebration, which, coincidentally, was on the same day Dangelo had promised to marry me. They were all going. Leaving me, alone, in this house. This monument to my family' s indifference.

They still thought it was a game. They thought I would break, that I would beg them to intervene, to save me from my own impulsive decision. They thought I would choose them.

They were wrong.

I walked to the window. The sky outside was a brilliant, clear blue. A new day. A new beginning.

"Timothy," I called out, my voice steady, to the old family orderly who was always discreetly tending to my needs. "Please bring the car around. I have a wedding to attend."

I smoothed down the simple white dress I had chosen, my hands steady. This wasn't a wedding to spite them. This was a wedding for me. I walked out the door, leaving the silent, empty mansion behind.

Bailey POV

The car Timothy had arranged for me was a modest sedan, perfectly blending in with the morning traffic. But as we turned onto a tree-lined avenue, my breath hitched. Ahead, a procession stretched for blocks. Not just cars, but an actual military band, their brass instruments glinting in the morning sun, playing a lively march. Motorcycles with sidecars, decorated with white ribbons, flanked a gleaming black armored vehicle.

It looked like a parade. My parade.

Timothy, seeing my stunned expression, chuckled softly. "Mr. Holden' s arrangements, ma' am. He insisted on a proper celebration."

My mind raced. This was no mere maintenance worker' s wedding. The sheer scale, the military presence, the impeccable organization – it spoke of power, of influence, of a world far beyond what I had imagined. Dangelo' s calm demeanor, his quiet confidence, his refusal of my money – it all clicked into place. He was more than he seemed. Much, much more.

The procession wound through the city, drawing crowds of curious onlookers. Children ran alongside, laughing and scrambling for the wrapped candies and small, intricate paper flowers that were being tossed from the open windows of the vehicles. It was public, glorious, and utterly defiant.

Meanwhile, back at the Robinson mansion, my family was preparing for Chandra' s birthday brunch. My father had arranged for a private car to take them to the country club. The road they usually took, a quiet, winding lane, was now unexpectedly blocked.

"What in the blazes is going on?" my father grumbled from the back seat, peering out the tinted window. "A parade? On a weekday?"

Holt frowned, checking his watch. "Looks like some kind of military celebration, Father. Probably a local regiment moving base or something. Looks quite elaborate."

"Well, it' s delaying us!" my mother huffed. "Chandra' s brunch is at noon. We can' t be late."

Kurtis, seated next to Chandra, looked equally annoyed. "Can' t the driver find another route?"

The driver, after several frustrated attempts, confirmed the entire area was cordoned off for the procession. There was no other way. My family, fuming, was forced to turn back, missing Chandra' s crucial brunch reservation. They were oblivious, utterly oblivious, to whose celebration had caused their inconvenience.

Three days later, the quiet at the Robinson mansion was unsettling. Too quiet. My mother, Alyce, usually bustling with activity, noticed the odd silence of the staff. The usually chirpy housekeepers were tight-lipped, their eyes avoiding hers. The gardeners worked with a grim determination, their movements stiff.

"Timothy," my mother called, spotting the old orderly. "Where is Bailey? I haven' t seen her since our… discussion." She expected me to be sulking in my room, perhaps, or to have left for a few days to cool off.

Timothy, usually so deferential, straightened his back, his gaze steady. "Miss Bailey is no longer residing here, ma' am."

My mother frowned. "I know that, Timothy. She' s probably at a friend' s. I meant, where is she now? Has she called?"

Timothy hesitated, then, with a clear voice, announced, "Miss Bailey was married three days ago, ma' am. She has moved to her husband' s quarters."

My mother gasped, clutching her chest. "Married?!" My father, entering the hall, overheard. "What nonsense are you spouting, Timothy? Married? To whom?"

Timothy, still unnervingly calm, continued, "The ceremony was quite public, sir. A military procession through the city. Many dignitaries attended. Everyone knows."

My parents stared, their faces draining of color. The reality, delivered so bluntly, was a physical blow. Their daughter, married. Publicly. And they knew nothing.

"To whom?!" my father roared, his composure finally shattering. "Who would she marry after such a disgraceful act?"

Timothy' s gaze shifted to Holt, who had just walked in, then to Chandra, who stood behind him, a sickly sweet smile on her face. "To Dangelo Holden, sir."

The name hung in the air like a poisoned dart. My father stumbled back, grabbing a chair to steady himself. My mother let out a choked cry, her hand flying to her mouth. They looked utterly devastated, not by my marriage, but by the sheer, unmitigated humiliation of it all. To a maintenance worker. A common laborer.

Chandra, seeing their despair, rushed forward, feigning concern. "Oh, Aunt Alyce, Uncle Coleman, I' m so sorry! I told you Bailey was just acting out. This is all my fault, isn' t it?" She dabbed at her dry eyes with a delicate handkerchief, a slight, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips.

Holt, however, was watching Chandra. A flicker of suspicion crossed his face. He remembered the circuit breaker, the way Chandra had whispered in his ear, the satisfaction in her eyes when the drone had crashed. He remembered her earlier 'concern' about Bailey getting 'too much attention'.

"Chandra," Holt said, his voice unusually sharp. "You knew, didn' t you? You knew Dangelo wasn' t just a maintenance worker, didn' t you?"

Chandra' s smile vanished. Her eyes darted around, suddenly panicked. "What are you talking about, Holt? Of course not! I just thought…"

"You told me he was just a glorified handyman," Holt pressed, his gaze piercing. "You said he was a nobody. You told me that associating Bailey with him would completely destroy her reputation."

Chandra' s face went white. She stammered, "I… I only heard rumors, Holt. I swear!"

My father, who had slowly regained his footing, stared at Chandra, a dawning horror in his eyes. "Rumors? What rumors? What are you talking about, Holt?"

Holt ignored him, his focus solely on Chandra. "You knew he was the acting CEO of the parent corporation that just acquired a controlling stake in Robinson Dynamics, didn' t you, Chandra? You knew he was undercover, evaluating us. And you used me to embarrass Bailey, hoping it would make you look better in his eyes."

Chandra collapsed, her face a mask of terror. "No! It' s not true! I didn' t know! I swear!"

My mother gasped, staring at her niece, then at my father. The pieces clicked into place. The sabotage, the public humiliation, Kurtis' s rigid adherence to rules, Dangelo' s calm acceptance, the grand wedding. It was all a meticulously orchestrated plan, and Chandra had been the unwitting, or perhaps too-willing, pawn.

"You… you lied to us, Chandra?" My father' s voice was barely a whisper, filled with a profound sense of betrayal. "You used us? To hurt Bailey? To gain favor?"

Chandra scrambled backwards, tears finally streaming down her face. "Uncle Coleman, no! I just wanted to help! I just thought… Bailey was always so distant, so difficult! I just wanted to protect you all!" She hid behind my mother, whimpering.

My mother, for once, didn' t immediately embrace her. She looked at my father, then at Holt, her face a mixture of shock and disgust.

Holt closed his eyes, a wave of self-loathing washing over him. He had been so easily manipulated. So blinded by his own jealousy and Chandra' s feigned sweetness. He had sacrificed his sister, his own blood, for the sake of a conniving opportunist. The entire family, once so proud of their shrewdness, had been played for fools.

He turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped beneath the weight of his regret. He didn' t look back.