I had just returned to California from the Dawnspire Flight Test Facility. Before I even had the chance to shake the dust from my sleeves, the old man from the research team summoned me into his study.

“I’ve arranged a marriage for you,” he said, sipping his tea.

“The girl’s name is Vivienne Hale. Her family’s in the tech manufacturing sector. She’s pretty, well-mannered, and most importantly—”

He paused, eyes gleaming with pride. “She has a clean background. Never dated. Untouched.”

I rubbed my aching temples and froze mid-motion.

Researchers tend to obsess over purity—especially when it comes to personal matters. Still, his words aligned with my preferences.

“Fine. You decide,” I said curtly, turning to leave without asking anything further.

The national key project was at a critical juncture. I didn’t have the time or energy to be concerned with romantic arrangements. But just as I stepped away, the old man added, “The bridal chamber is ready—next to the institute, in the Academician Building. The Hale family insisted on decorating it themselves. Said it’s their way of showing sincerity.”

I waved it off. “Let them do whatever they want.”

But the night before the wedding, I stopped by the new place to grab some clothes—and what I saw made me think I’d entered the wrong room.

White funeral banners hung from every wall, fluttering like ghostly flags. In the center stood a framed black-and-white portrait of Vivienne, clearly cropped from her ID photo. Where red silk embroidery of dragons and phoenixes should have been, rows of paper effigies of boys and girls had taken their place. Even the candles were wrong—white wax instead of red. The whole place reeked of death.

“What the hell is this?” I snapped, tearing the white banners off the wall and blocking the workers from continuing.

Just then, a woman in a designer gown and stilettos sauntered in. Her makeup was heavy, her air smug—like a mannequin with too much attitude.

“I’m Isolde Quinn,” she said, arms crossed. “Vivienne’s childhood best friend.”

She cast me a sideways glance and smirked. “Who told you to touch my decorations?”

“I’m getting married here tomorrow,” I said coldly. “And you’re turning the bridal suite into a mourning hall?”

Isolde met my gaze with defiance. “Vivienne said I could decorate it however I like. I’m her best friend.”

She flipped her curled hair, her voice dripping with mockery. “If you’ve got a problem, take it up with her. Let’s see who she sides with.”

I pulled out my phone and dialed Vivienne, my voice hoarse from days in the wind and sun. “Your people have turned the wedding room into a shrine. Is this your idea of sincerity?”

There was a pause on the other end. Then came Vivienne’s soft, composed voice: “Malric, Isolde was just being playful. Don’t be upset. She’s been spoiled since we were kids. Couldn’t you try to be more accommodating?”

“I’m not interested in playing games with her,” I said, holding back my temper. “Tell her and her people to get out. Now.”

This house was a specially approved residence in the National Defense Science and Technology Park. Tomorrow, several military officials would be attending the celebration. If they saw this mess, I’d be publicly humiliated.

——

Before I could say another word—

Beep. Beep.

She had hung up.

The busy tone hammered in my ears, sharp and jarring.

So this was the “gentle, well-bred” woman the old man praised?

Isolde smirked triumphantly. “Heard that? Vivienne doesn’t care what you think.”

Her gaze swept over my dusty, oil-stained training uniform. “If it weren’t for that stupid project you’re working on that’s tying up the Hale family, do you really think someone like you—rough, sunburnt, and reeking of the Sonoran Desert—would be good enough for Vivienne?”

She leaned in with a sneer. “Let’s be real. Vivienne only has eyes for my brother. Asking me to decorate the wedding room? That was her way of letting me humiliate you.”

“Now get out of here,” she added with mock sweetness. “You’re in the way of my work.”

So, Vivienne’s heart belonged to someone else—not me.

I stared at the large red letters on the wall: "CONFIDENTIAL AREA – NO ENTRY." The sign reminded me of my boundaries—of what I couldn’t afford to do. I clenched my fists, suppressing the urge to flip the table in front of me.

I had a clearance-bound contract tied to a national defense project. I couldn’t risk a public altercation.

“Have your people dismantle everything—now—or I’ll call security,” I warned coldly.

Isolde’s expression twisted with spite. Without a word, she unclipped the leash of her Tibetan Mastiff. The beast snarled and lunged.

I dodged and slammed my boot into its side. The dog yelped, crashing into a cabinet before retreating to a corner, whimpering.

“You hit my dog?” she shrieked, charging at me with clawed fingers, nearly scratching my face.

Before I could react, security guards burst in.

But instead of stopping her, they grabbed me.

“Stand down!” I barked, flashing my ID.

The security captain gave me an apologetic smile. “Mr. Lennox, Miss Quinn said you harassed her. We’re just following protocol.”

The hallway was already packed with spectators, whispering among themselves:

“Isn’t that the guy marrying the Hale family’s eldest daughter? I thought he was some scientist—why does he look like a stray dog?”

“You didn’t hear? He’s an orphan. The old man picked him up, raised him, sent him to the Westbridge Defense Academy. If not for that, he’d be begging under a bridge somewhere.”

“Tsk… and Vivienne is worth billions. You really think she’s marrying this nobody willingly?”

“Maybe the Hale family got duped.”

“Look—Miss Quinn is her best friend and the daughter of Avondale’s second-richest man. This guy dares touch her? He must have a death wish.”

“If I were him, I’d just put up with the insults. Marrying into the richest family in Avondale, getting a mansion and a fortune... who wouldn’t swallow their pride for that?”

Isolde soaked in the attention, hands on her hips, grinning like a queen. Her blood-red nails jabbed at my chest.

“Kneel and apologize,” she said, loud enough for the crowd. “Do that, and I’ll pretend none of this ever happened. Otherwise—get ready to be humiliated tomorrow in front of every guest at your wedding.”

I reached for my intercom to call base security—but before I could press the button, a sharp pain exploded at the back of my neck.

Everything went black.

“Throw him out,” I heard her say as I lost consciousness.

---

When I came to, I was lying next to a fire hydrant in the corridor. My body ached. My neck felt like it had been branded with fire. I gritted my teeth and tried to push myself upright, fingers scraping against the cold floor.

Standing over me was Sebastian Quinn.

He was flanked by suited bodyguards, his expression composed but menacing. The faint glint of cruelty behind his gold-rimmed glasses gave him away.

“Mr. Lennox,” he said, voice low, “I don’t think hitting my sister is something a gentleman does.”

He stepped forward and crushed the back of my hand with his polished leather shoe.

I hissed but forced myself to sit upright, blood and dust smeared across my sleeves.

“Who started it—me, or your sister?” I shot back.

Sebastian smirked. “Doesn’t matter. She’s my sister. Scaring her is enough reason.”

He turned to his men. “Hit him.”

They moved fast.

I moved faster.

I grabbed Sebastian by the arm and yanked him in front of me as a human shield. The bodyguards froze.

“I’m Vivienne’s fiancé,” I said sharply. “Do you Quinns really want to go down in history for beating the nation’s top defense scientist on the eve of your sister’s wedding?”

“Fiancé?” Sebastian scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “If you hadn’t used that new energy project to pressure Uncle, do you really think Vivienne would’ve agreed to marry someone like you?”

He took a slow step forward, looking me over like something stuck to his shoe. “You—always out in the sun, covered in dirt—you’re not even fit to carry Vivienne’s shoes.”

Isolde turned sharply, her eyes flashing with provocation, like she was daring me to strike back.

I clenched my fists, suppressing the anger rising in my chest. I tried, one last time, to reason.

“You’re Sebastian, right? Is that who Vivienne truly wants? Because if you knew what I—”

“Shut up.” He cut me off with a flick of his hand, his tone laced with annoyance. “I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what you do. All I care about is one thing—”

He pointed at Isolde. “Kneel. Apologize to Isolde.”

I stared at him, speechless for a moment—then I laughed. A cold, bitter laugh that echoed in the corridor.

He didn’t even know the Hale family had begged Vivienne to marry me. And now he expected me to kneel?

“Mr. Quinn,” I said flatly, “Miss Hale and I may not know each other well, but she doesn’t hate me. I don’t know what kind of relationship you have with her—maybe you have feelings for her. But I’m her legitimate fiancé. If you want to take her from me, you’ll need a better reason than arrogance.”

“A reason?” he scoffed. “I’ll give you one—because you’re nothing. And people like you don’t get to marry up.”

“So I deserve a beating just for existing?” I muttered.

Isolde jumped in before he could respond, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, please. It’s not you who’s marrying her—it’s her who has to marry you. She’s already on the way, isn’t she? If she backs out now, will you get on your knees and beg her to stay?”

The spectators murmured. One laughed. I caught fragments—“lucky orphan,” “free mansion,” “the Hale family’s charity case.”

Isolde’s voice rang out again, mocking. “His family should thank the heavens for eight generations just for this match. There’s no way he’d have the guts to break it off.”

The two siblings looked at me like I was a beggar trying to steal from royalty.

I smiled coldly. “The Hale family? You think they’re royalty? That every man is dying to marry their daughter?”

I turned to Sebastian, who was casually wiping his leather shoe—the one that had ground into the back of my hand.

“You don’t want her to marry me?” I asked, voice low and tight. “Fine. Then cancel the engagement. But you want the project authorization too?”

He looked up.

“If you hand it over now,” he said, “we can make this painless.”

At that moment, Vivienne finally arrived.

She paused when she saw me—bloodied, dusty, humiliated. Her expression shifted into a practiced softness, her eyes just slightly red.

“Malric,” she said, her voice gentle, “don’t blame Sebastian. He’s doing this for my sake…”

I cut her off. My voice was cold and dry—like the wind in the Sonoran Desert.

“I’m not asking about him,” I said. “I’m asking you. Do you want to marry him, or me?”

Before she could answer, Isolde jumped in gleefully. “She doesn’t want to marry you! She wants my brother! Just agree to cancel the engagement and be done with it.”

“Don’t be so shameless, Malric Lennox,” Sebastian sneered, pulling out a checkbook. He scribbled something and tore the page with a flourish. “Here—five million. Take it and disappear.”

He pressed the check into my chest.

“You think I don’t know what’s going on?” he said. “Your little project is close to completion, but without the Quinn family’s materials, you can’t finish it.”

I looked down at the check, then back at him—and suddenly smiled.

So that was it.

No wonder the Hale family had been so desperate to tie me down. It wasn’t about marriage. It was about control. About access to the classified controlled nuclear fusion project I led. And the Quinn family? Just pawns in the Hale family’s bigger game.

For years, both families had grown fat on the back of the last major technology initiative I spearheaded. The rare metals they hoarded were useful—but only temporarily. Once the new core stabilizer was perfected, they’d be obsolete.

And if that technology went to another investor? The Hale and Quinn families would crash overnight.

Technology evolves fast. Faster than greed can react.

I crumpled the check slowly and met his eyes.

“Sebastian,” I said, voice sharp as ice, “you’re too naïve. When this project succeeds, it won’t just be worth more than your five million—it’ll rewrite the industry.”

I stepped closer, tossing the check to the floor between us.

“As for your materials?” I gave him a faint smile. “Just stepping stones. Nothing more.”