On my wedding day, the groom ran away. So, I married his father instead. If I can’t be your bride, I’ll just be your bride. When he returned and saw me still in his house, he thought I was clinging on, refusing to leave. From behind him, he pulled forward an innocent-looking woman, declaring that she was his true love and that I should stop dreaming. I smiled, gently grasping the hand of the man beside me. “Son, daughter-in-law, won’t you give your mother a greeting?” I am Laurel Henderson, heiress of Henderson Enterprises. Today was supposed to be my wedding day with Enoch Westfield, the young heir of Westfield Corporation. But the groom, who was meant to be front and center, was nowhere to be found. “You’re telling me Enoch ran away?” I asked, my voice cold. “That’s what they’re saying…” the maid stammered, trembling as she explained. My parents were livid. Both the Henderson and Westfield families had spent months preparing for this wedding. Every major elite family in New York City had been invited, and the media was eagerly covering it. If Enoch had any issues with the wedding, he had plenty of opportunities to voice them. But to flee on the day of the ceremony? That was a direct slap in the face to the Hendersons. After offering me some reassurances, my parents hurried off to figure out how to salvage the situation. I sat in the corner, quietly thinking about how to proceed with the reception when I heard a commotion at the entrance. Instinctively, I looked up. Walking through the door in a tailored black suit was a strikingly handsome man. This man was Christopher “Chris” Westfield, the current head of Westfield Corporation and, technically, Enoch’s father. Despite being thirty-five, he looked like he was barely in his twenties. Chris rarely attended large social events. Even I had only met him a handful of times. So seeing him here, now, drew the attention of every family present. People practically tripped over themselves to get to him. Staring at Chris’s perfect features, a wild idea flashed in my mind. As I watched him politely turn down everyone’s advances, he suddenly walked straight toward me. “Mr. Westfield,” I greeted him with a polite smile, though I couldn’t hide a hint of vulnerability in my voice. His voice, low and melodic like a cello, came next. “Miss Henderson, I apologize for Enoch’s behavior. I’ve already sent people to find him. When he’s caught, you may decide what happens to him.” “I’ll inform everyone that the wedding is postponed, and Westfield Corporation will cover all expenses.” It was a perfect solution, but I had a better plan. “Mr. Westfield, this engagement has always been between the Hendersons and the Westfields, right? The groom doesn’t necessarily have to be Enoch, does it?” “What?” His eyes darkened, clearly taken aback by the sudden turn. After a pause, he asked, “Well, who would you choose then?” I smiled sweetly, extending my hand. “Would you be my groom?”
Although Chris is Enoch’s father in name, he isn’t his biological dad. There were rumors Chris had certain… physical shortcomings, which is why he was still unmarried. At twenty-five, he adopted Enoch from a distant relative. Whether or not those rumors were true didn’t concern me. Medical advancements these days are incredible—I’m sure any issue could be resolved. And if not, well, maybe we just don’t have kids. Chris raised an eyebrow, amused by the bold smile on my face. “Are you sure?” “Of course,” I replied without hesitation. After all, Chris was far more attractive than Enoch—by miles. Even if the rumors were true, just looking at his face every day would be more than enough for me. It sure beats being humiliated by a two-timing Enoch. Chris studied me for a long moment before finally nodding. “Alright.” His strong, masculine hand clasped mine, and my heart skipped a beat. The wedding went on with a new leading man. I didn’t even have to change my dress. The elegant white gown, paired with Chris’s custom-tailored black suit, made us look like we were always meant to be bride and groom. Everyone at the reception caught on quickly. Enoch’s sudden disappearance wasn’t exactly a secret, and the guests had more or less figured it out. The media, sensing a scandal, had their cameras ready, eager to capture the drama unfolding between two of New York’s wealthiest families. But when they saw me walking down the aisle, arm in arm with Chris, jaws dropped. The audacity of switching grooms at the last minute left them all speechless. The officiant, ever the professional, read off the updated details with ease. “Please, exchange your rings…” Chris pulled out a ring and slid it onto my finger, and I did the same for him. I quickly noticed the ring didn’t quite fit—after all, it was sized for Enoch. It was a rushed job, but it would have to do. Then came the moment for the groom to kiss the bride. I felt a wave of nerves. Chris was known for being discreet and private—he rarely attended events, and when he did, he never had a date. Would he really want to kiss me in front of all these people? I regretted dragging him into this mess on a whim. But before I could spiral into doubt, I felt the soft pressure of his lips on mine. Shocked, I opened my eyes, and there he was—his perfect face, inches from mine. Sensing my surprise, Chris gently cupped the back of my head, deepening the kiss. I closed my eyes again, letting myself sink into the moment as the crowd around us erupted into applause.
My parents had no idea about my last-minute decision, but faced with the congratulations from everyone around us, they had no choice but to smile and accept it. They couldn’t possibly embarrass their daughter in public, could they? During the reception, my mom pulled me aside into a private room where my dad was already waiting. She locked the door behind her. “Laurel, what is going on? How did you end up marrying Chris Westfield?” “Because… he’s handsome.” I had no better explanation for my sudden impulse. “Handsome?” My mom thought about it for a moment. “Well… he is good-looking.” “But he’s more than ten years older than you! He was almost done with elementary school when you were born.” “So what? They say older men are more caring.” I tried to play it cool. “But… there’s a rumor he can’t, well, you know…” Yikes. This was going to be tough to explain. Before I could figure out how to dodge that landmine, there was a knock on the door. My mom opened it, and there stood Chris. I had no idea how long he’d been standing there. With practiced ease, my parents plastered on polite smiles, as if they hadn’t just been gossiping about the man. “Mr. Westfield, what brings you here?” “I’d like to have a word with you both, if you don’t mind,” Chris said. I have no idea what he said to them, but by the time their conversation ended, my parents were no longer opposing the marriage. In fact, they seemed genuinely impressed with him. “Chris is quite something,” my dad said approvingly. “He’s capable, resourceful. Sure, he’s a bit older, but that kind of man can protect our daughter.” Enoch, who ran away like a coward, certainly couldn’t.
After the wedding, I moved into the Westfield Estate. This was Chris’s personal residence, and it was my first time there. The décor was modern, minimalist, with everything in black, white, or gray. After a day filled with endless socializing, I could feel the alcohol and sweat clinging to my skin. Chris headed off to shower first while I relaxed on the couch. I could hear the sound of the water running, and through the frosted glass of the bathroom door, I could just make out his silhouette. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, so I quickly averted my eyes. Eventually, the water stopped, and out of habit, I glanced up as Chris emerged from the bathroom. He was wearing a robe, the collar slightly open, revealing a chiseled chest and abs. I stared, wide-eyed. I hadn’t expected him to look so… fit. Chris caught me looking and gave a small, amused smile. “Laurel, maybe you should take a shower too,” he said, his voice deep and teasing. Snapping out of my daze, I bolted into the bathroom, my face burning. As the water rushed over me, my mind replayed the way he’d called me by my name. How had I not noticed before how charming he was? After my shower, I realized I’d forgotten to bring my clothes into the bathroom. Ugh. There was no choice but to crack open the door just a bit and call out, “Chris, I forgot my clothes. Can you grab the bag on the couch and hand it to me?” There was no response at first, and I started to wonder if he’d left the room. Just as I was about to ask again, his voice came from outside the door, a little rougher than before. “Sure.” I could hear him moving around, and soon, he knocked on the bathroom door. “Here you go.” I cracked the door just enough to extend my arm, and he handed me the clothes. “Thanks,” I muttered, quickly closing the door. But as I did, I accidentally met his gaze. Those deep, smoldering eyes… I blushed even harder. Oh my God. He hadn’t handed me the whole bag—just the underwear.
I spent a long time dawdling in the bathroom, but eventually, I had to come out. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open. Chris was already changed into his pajamas, sitting on the bed, reading a document. When he saw me emerge, he calmly closed the folder. There wasn’t any teasing in his expression, which helped me relax. I had some business to address anyway. “So, what are you planning to do about Enoch?” Chris had anticipated the question. He handed me the folder he’d been reading earlier. “Take a look.” I walked over and took the papers. Inside was the whole backstory of Enoch and some girl—the kind of classic love affair you’d expect from a cheesy romance novel: a rich heir and a delicate, innocent girl. Next to the description was a photo of the girl. She really did fit the role of a sweet, innocent little thing. Apparently, they’d gone through rounds of dramatic breakups and reconciliations, all without me knowing. Then, last night, the girl found out Enoch was getting married. Distraught, she called him, crying. Enoch, ever the compassionate fool, panicked and ran off, leaving his fiancée (that’s me) behind to elope with her. Honestly, if I weren’t the poor bride left at the altar, I might have congratulated them. But no, unfortunately for me, I was the jilted bride. Seriously, where had these two been for the past few months? From the timeline in the documents, their little roller-coaster romance had been going on for two months. Longer than it took to plan the wedding. If Enoch had hinted at anything during that time, I wouldn’t be so furious right now. “Enoch’s off on some vacation with his little girlfriend right now,” Chris said, noting my simmering anger. “I’ve sent people to drag him back. If you want, we can pretend this whole wedding didn’t happen.” We hadn’t officially signed the marriage license yet—just held the ceremony. But I didn’t regret a thing. I’d tossed away trash and found myself a treasure. This was luck beyond belief. “No need to cancel anything. We’re married, and I’m your wife. Tomorrow, we’ll get the paperwork done.” I was serious. Chris looked at me, realizing I meant every word. His tone softened. “Alright.”
“You said I could handle Enoch however I liked, right?” I asked, a mischievous smile forming on my lips. “Of course.” Perfect. “I want you to freeze his credit cards.” Let’s see how Enoch enjoys his romantic getaway when his access to money is suddenly cut off. Chris could see the wicked glee in my eyes. Not only did he not stop me, but he added fuel to the fire. “As of today, I’ll seize all of his assets. What do you think of that, Mrs. Westfield?” That last phrase caught me off guard, making my face turn red again. “I think that sounds wonderful,” I replied, the thought of making Enoch’s life miserable filling me with satisfaction. With the jerk dealt with, it was time to move on to more important matters. “Let’s get some rest,” Chris said. He sounded genuinely tired as he reached over and turned off the light. The room went dark. I lay stiffly in bed, too nervous to move. It was my first night as a married woman, and I wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next. A wedding night? Should I make the first move? Just as I was working up the nerve to do something, Chris’s calm voice broke the silence. “Go to sleep. I won’t touch you until you’re ready.” Relieved yet conflicted, I thought about those rumors. Was it really true? Could he really resist a beautiful woman lying right next to him? Maybe he really couldn’t… “?” Chris’s eyes flew open again. It took me a second to realize I had said that last part out loud. Before I could pretend to be asleep, I felt the bed shift as his body leaned closer to mine. His long fingers brushed my waist, his breath warm against my ear. “Maybe you should find out for yourself,” he whispered. Turns out, teasing a man who’s been celibate for years has consequences.
The next morning, I woke up well past noon. The spot beside me was cold. Chris was already gone. Of course, big CEOs don’t have the luxury of sleeping in. My stomach growled, so I headed downstairs in search of food. To my surprise, Chris was sitting at the dining table, casually flipping through a magazine. “Good morning, Mrs. Westfield. Did you sleep well?” Today, he wasn’t in his usual suit. Instead, he wore a simple white shirt, the collar slightly open, revealing faint marks from last night. My face flushed at the memory, but I wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand. “I slept great, Chris,” I replied with a hint of defiance. His smile widened. “I’m glad to hear it. It’s reassuring to know you were satisfied with last night.” Shameless! I couldn’t match his boldness. I plopped down at the table with a huff. “I’m starving!” Chris chuckled softly and went to the kitchen, bringing out a simple breakfast. “You’ve just woken up. I didn’t want to make anything too heavy.” The meal was modest—breakfast biscuits, a couple of side dishes, and a bowl of oatmeal. I didn’t care. I was so hungry, I immediately grabbed a biscuit and took a bite. My eyes widened. It was delicious. “This is amazing! Who made these?” Chris said nothing, just smiled. A sudden thought hit me. “Wait, did you make these?” Chris nodded without a hint of hesitation. “As long as it pleases you, that’s all that matters.” I wanted to say something witty, but I couldn’t deny how good the food was. Seeing me eat with such enthusiasm made Chris look pleased. All that time spent learning to cook hadn’t gone to waste. After breakfast, I headed upstairs to get dressed. The decision to marry Chris had been so sudden, I hadn’t had a chance to prepare. There were no women’s clothes at the Westfield Estate, so I had to make do with what I’d brought from my parents’ house. Chris noticed. He stepped out to make a phone call while I finished getting ready. By the time I came downstairs, he was waiting for me by the door. “Let’s go, Chris,” I said, linking my arm through his. He chuckled softly and clasped my hand as we walked out the door.
With our wedding photos freshly printed, it was official—Chris and I were now husband and wife. I was still adjusting to being married, but as I looked at the pictures of us—such a striking couple—I had to admit, we looked great together. My instincts had been spot on! Meanwhile, Enoch and his precious “innocent” girlfriend, Vivianne, were off on their international getaway. But with his credit cards frozen, their fun wasn’t going to last long. I couldn’t wait for the moment when Enoch would return and see that I was now his stepmother. Chris was incredibly thoughtful. After we got our marriage certificate, I came home to find the once-empty closet filled with clothes and accessories, all the latest from high-end designers. “We didn’t have time for custom orders, so I hope these will do for now,” he said. Though many of the clothes were ones I already had, I appreciated his thoughtfulness enough to reward him with a kiss. Just as I’d expected, cutting off Enoch’s funds had thrown his trip into chaos. As the heir to the Westfield fortune, he’d never bothered to carry cash, always relying on his unlimited credit cards. Vivianne, who had quit her job when they started dating, still had some savings from before. Without her, Enoch wouldn’t have even been able to get back home. “Don’t worry, Enoch,” Vivianne whispered. “Something must have happened. Let’s buy tickets and head back to New York.” “Thank you, Vivianne,” Enoch replied, his voice full of gratitude. He had a feeling Laurel was behind his accounts being frozen. Someone must have told the bank to cut him off, and it could only be her. But no matter. Once they were back in New York, he planned to make things official with Vivianne. After all, they truly loved each other. He owed her that much. He could already picture their future—marrying Vivianne, taking over Westfield Corporation, and living happily ever after.
The couple hurried to catch the next flight back to New York. After a seven-hour flight, they arrived at the Westfield Estate around eight in the morning. Enoch knew Chris rarely stayed at the old family mansion, so he headed straight for the estate. Meanwhile, I was lounging on the couch, waiting for Chris to finish breakfast. These past few days, I’d spent every moment with him. For someone who had once seemed so aloof and distant, Chris was surprisingly affectionate—and not the saint he appeared to be. To enjoy our honeymoon in peace, Chris had given the staff some time off. Only the housekeeper came by to clean every few days. That meant he had taken over all the cooking, but I didn’t mind. After all, I wasn’t exactly skilled in the kitchen. Chris seemed to enjoy it. Every time he saw me happily munching on something he made, he’d tap my cheeks playfully. Suddenly, the house AI chimed. “There’s someone at the door, ma’am.” I slipped on my slippers and checked the security camera. There they were—Enoch and Vivianne, looking worse for wear after their long journey. Well, that was fast. “Your eldest son is here,” I called to Chris, poking my head into the kitchen where he was making sunny-side-up eggs to perfection. “Hmm,” was his only response, his eyes not leaving the pan. Just what I wanted to hear. Leaving the lovebirds to wait outside, I casually went upstairs to change before finally opening the door.
The estate was massive, with an equally sprawling yard—a place you could almost call a small manor. Usually, guests would arrive by car, but since the driver was on vacation, like most of the staff, I wasn’t about to drive out and pick them up. Enoch and Vivianne, after rushing from the airport, didn’t even stop to eat. Now, they were left hungry, thirsty, and stuck waiting at the gate. When the gates finally opened, they had no choice but to walk the long path inside on foot. “This place is enormous,” Vivianne said, awe and envy flickering in her eyes. “When we get married, I’ll buy you something just as big,” Enoch boasted, trying to impress her. “That must be really expensive,” Vivianne said sweetly. “But honestly, I don’t need all that. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy no matter where we live.” Her words, dripping with reliance and affection, inflated Enoch’s ego. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy you a few mansions so you can pick and choose!” he declared grandly. But as they neared the main door, Enoch’s confidence began to waver. He’d always respected Chris, his adoptive father, ever since he’d seen how the man dealt with insubordination. As a child, Enoch didn’t care much about Chris, but as he grew older, witnessing how Chris handled difficult situations made him more cautious around the man. Still, Chris rarely got involved in family matters, and that was part of the reason Enoch dared to run off before the wedding. He was certain Chris wouldn’t bother getting involved in something so petty. After all, as the heir to Westfield Corporation, Chris couldn’t treat him like anyone else. With that thought, Enoch psyched himself up. “Hey, Dad,” he said, pushing the door open, only to be greeted by a surprise. It wasn’t Chris at the door—it was me, Laurel Henderson, smiling warmly at him. “Hello there~”
“You—you—what are you doing here!” Enoch stammered, instinctively stepping back. “Ah!” Vivianne, who was standing right behind him, didn’t have time to react and got her foot stepped on. Tears welled up in her eyes from the pain. Hearing Vivianne’s yelp, Enoch snapped out of it. “Are you okay, Vivianne?” he asked, rushing to her side. “As long as you’re alright, Enoch,” Vivianne said, biting her lip, looking delicate and vulnerable. Enoch spent a good amount of time comforting her right in front of me before finally turning his attention back to me. “Laurel! I never expected you to be this cruel!” What? What did I do? I hadn’t moved an inch since they arrived, and now I was being accused of cruelty? Even Enoch seemed to realize how ridiculous that sounded, so he quickly changed his tone. “I didn’t expect you to be so shameless! The wedding didn’t even happen, and yet here you are, living in our house! I don’t like you. We don’t have a future together. This is my girlfriend, Vivianne. We’re getting married soon.” “And what made you think that’s even remotely possible?” I was genuinely confused, and honestly, a bit speechless. Seriously, had this guy not seen the news? Where did he get the idea that I would still be hanging around for him? Have I ever clung to him? I mentally reviewed every moment I had ever spent with Enoch. I was sure of it—there was absolutely no reason for him to think I’d been hung up on him. Was this guy delusional? “Listen, I understand you and Enoch were engaged, but you never actually got married. Enoch and I are truly in love. Please, just let us be together,” Vivianne said, her tears flowing freely like a broken faucet. She wept as if I were the villain of the story, suffering some great injustice. Enoch, clearly moved, yelled, “Laurel! You’ve gone too far!” What?! What did I do? I stood there, baffled by the sheer absurdity of their logic. Were they both out of their minds? I couldn’t help but laugh. “Has the mental hospital run out of room for the two of you? Is that why you’re here causing trouble?” It took Enoch a moment to process my words. “You’re the one who’s insane!” Seeing my complete lack of concern, Enoch hesitated, wondering if maybe I didn’t care about him after all. But he quickly dismissed the thought, reminding himself that this was the Westfield Estate, not the Henderson home. Laurel had to be here because of him. She must be putting on this act just to get his attention. Enoch softened his tone. “Laurel, I have someone I care about now. We can’t have a future together. Just apologize to Vivianne, and maybe we can stay friends.” Friends? With these idiots? No thanks. I wasn’t about to catch their stupidity.
Just as I was about to fire back, a deep, magnetic voice came from behind me. “What’s going on here?” Everyone turned to look. Chris stood there, wearing a custom black shirt that hugged his well-built body, his chiseled face and commanding presence drawing all the attention. His long fingers gently placed a bowl on the dining table, every movement smooth and composed. Even Vivianne seemed mesmerized. “Dad, we’re back. Why is she here?” Enoch immediately asked, eager for Chris to side with him. But Chris didn’t answer. Instead, he waved a hand toward me. “Come eat.” Enoch and Vivianne exchanged confused glances, thinking Chris was calling them to the table. “Dad, you even made us breakfast,” Enoch said gratefully, starting to lead Vivianne toward the table. Before they could get close, Chris blocked their way. “Dad?” Enoch asked, bewildered. Chris extended his hand again, this time more deliberately. “Sweetheart, I’m here~” I said, beaming as I hurried to him and took his hand in front of both of them. The look on Enoch and Vivianne’s faces—eyes wide, jaws dropping—was priceless. “Son, care to greet your new stepmother?” I asked, my smile growing brighter. The two of them were frozen in place, their mouths still hanging open. Chris ignored them completely, pulling me to sit down at the table. “Eat up. The food’s getting cold.” It took Enoch a good two minutes to recover from the shock. “What?! When—when did this happen? How is this even possible?” Enoch sputtered, his voice loud enough to carry through the room. “On the day of the wedding, of course,” I replied, savoring the sight of his disbelief. To see Enoch, who had been so full of himself just moments ago, now gaping in shock—it was glorious.
“Dad, how could you marry her?” Enoch protested, glaring at me. Seeing the smug look on my face only fueled his anger. “She must have done this on purpose! You can’t be serious! Besides, she’s way younger than you. This makes no sense!” Okay, I’ll admit, my decision to marry Chris was initially driven by a little bit of revenge. But mostly, I did it because I couldn’t let my family lose face in front of everyone. People like us don’t expect to marry for love. Choosing Chris had everything to do with his status. Plus, he was miles better than Enoch in every way—looks, intelligence, everything. And on top of that, he actually enjoyed spoiling me. “Age is just a number. Love knows no boundaries,” I said, raising an eyebrow. Then, just to rub it in, I kissed Chris on the cheek, right in front of Enoch. “Revenge? Using a marriage for that? You really think you’re worth it?” “Come on, son. Call me Mom! Or I might just suggest to your dad that he find a new heir,” I teased. Enoch, now red with fury, turned to Chris for help. “Dad, are you just going to let her talk to me like this?” Chris finally looked at him. Enoch thought, for a split second, that his father might step in. But instead, Chris gently ruffled my hair and said, “There’s nothing I can do to stop her. Besides, Laurel is my wife now, and you should respect her as your mother.” Enoch’s face turned even darker, filled with frustration. He had never been so humiliated in his life. He turned, ready to storm off. Just then, Vivianne tugged on his sleeve. Enoch looked down at her pleading face and, with great reluctance, turned back. “Fine. Mom.”
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