Charlotte’s POV:

In a daze, I heard the priest repeating his question, which finally brought me back to reality. Looking up, I saw Alexander nodding at the priest to continue. I noticed Richard’s serious gaze from the front row and my parents’ anxious expressions, causing my palms to unconsciously break out in sweat.

“Bride, do you take this man to be your husband, to cherish in sickness and in health, in poverty or wealth, to love and support each other, until the end of your lives?”

“I do.” I nodded almost reflexively, my voice surprisingly loud. I dared not imagine what would happen if I said “no.”

Hearing my response, Richard and my parents visibly relaxed.

The priest turned to the man standing beside me: “Groom, do you take Charlotte Cole to be your wife, to cherish in sickness and in health, in poverty or wealth, to love and support each other, until the end of your lives?”

“I do.” Alexander’s voice was deep and firm, sounding more like he was signing a business contract than reciting wedding vows.

I couldn’t help but glance sideways at the man beside me—handsome, cold, at least a full head taller than me, perfectly fitting the profile of a business magazine cover model. He was completely different from the rumors I’d heard, to the point where I was shocked when I first saw him.

“The bride and groom will now exchange rings,” the priest announced.

Alexander roughly grabbed my hand and forcefully slid the ring onto my finger, his movements full of impatience.

Seeing this, I returned the gesture in the same manner, shoving the ring hard onto his finger.

The venue erupted in applause, and I heard the guests’ cheers and the gentle clinking of champagne glasses.

It seemed that everyone was happy about this wedding and fully immersed in the celebration—everyone except the protagonists of this marriage.

After the ceremony, I followed a convoy of luxury cars to the Kingsley family’s historic mansion in Nob Hill. Sitting in the car, I kept encouraging myself, thinking I only needed to endure until the semester started, when I could return to my Stanford dormitory and wouldn’t have to face this strange family every day.

Entering our prepared bridal chamber, I was stunned by its luxury—pure white velvet curtains, a hand-carved four-poster bed, and walls adorned with priceless artwork that I’d only seen in magazines or museums. I dragged my suitcase in, placing it in a corner without unpacking, ready to leave at any moment.

Thinking about our wedding night, I felt uneasy, nervously closing my eyes and biting my lip while muttering to myself, “What am I going to do tonight?”

Hearing Alexander enter, I quickly stood up from the foot of the bed, swallowing hard with nervousness. He had changed out of his formal suit into dark casual pants and an open-collared shirt. Without the constraint of a tie and jacket, he looked less severe, but still maintained a sense of distance.

The thought of possibly sharing a bed with this tech tycoon eight years my senior, who commanded Silicon Valley with a word, gave me goosebumps. I would rather sleep on the floor.

Alexander walked straight toward me. I could smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with a hint of alcohol.

I instinctively stepped back against the window, stammering: “Um, let’s get acquainted first? I’m Charlotte Cole, twenty years old, from Palo Alto, a sophomore at Stanford. Summer break just ended, and I, I, I…” I knew I was rambling, but I was truly nervous.

“What method did you use to convince him?” Alexander interrupted me, his voice cold as ice, showing no interest in my introduction.

His sharp gaze scrutinized me, his tone filled with suspicion and a hint of curiosity. I noticed his knuckles turning white from clenching, seemingly suppressing some emotion.

“My father is never short of people trying to attach themselves to the Kingsley family. Countless socialites have wanted to marry into our family.” Alexander’s voice was low. “How exactly did you persuade that stubborn old man to let you marry me?”

I suddenly realized he suspected I had used some underhanded scheme to marry into his family.

To clear up the misunderstanding between us, I began to explain, “Alexander, were you forced into this too? Because I was.”

Alexander’s lips curled into a sarcastic smile. “Today alone, the Cole family secured at least fifteen projects. And you’re telling me you were forced?”

His accusatory words, already convinced I had ulterior motives, ignited my anger. I had tried to explain in good faith, only to be labeled a vain, gold-digging woman. I could no longer remain calm.

“Alexander, are you suggesting my family sold me for advancement? Let me tell you, if your father hadn’t forced me, I wouldn’t marry you even if I were starving to death!”

“Fine, then let’s see if the Cole family comes begging to the Kingsleys when they’re ‘starving,'” Alexander replied coldly, still believing I was putting on an act.

He deliberately took out his phone slowly, eyes fixed on me, while calling his assistant. “I want to acquire Cole Tech.”

“Sir, which Cole company?” His assistant’s voice came through the speaker, sounding somewhat harsh.

“Which one else? My father-in-law’s, of course.” Alexander said while still coldly staring at me, seemingly waiting for my reaction.

A wave of fury instantly surged through me. On my wedding night—my forced wedding night—this arrogant bastard was threatening my family’s livelihood? I wanted to rush over and slap that smug face of his.

I couldn’t control my breathing as rage filled my chest, making it heave violently. “Alexander, Your brain is the size of a pea,” I spat.

“You—” He looked genuinely shocked. He hadn’t expected me to curse at him directly.

Without waiting for his response, I stormed out of the bridal chamber and grabbed the first servant I saw in the hallway. “Where’s Richard?”