Chapter 6: The Bargain of Thorns

Charlotte's POV:

I straightened my clothes, took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, then lifted my head and walked into the study with my back straight.

"Mr. Kingsley," my voice was tight, but I tried to keep it steady, "you said once I married into your family—"

"Do not mention this matter to anyone else in the family." Richard turned abruptly and interrupted me, his expression severe beneath his brown hair. "The threat to Cole Technologies has been removed. Alexander will take no further hostile actions against your family's company."

He tried to leave, but I blocked his path. Though he was tall and I had to look up to meet his eyes, I would not back down.

"Verbal promises aren't enough. I need it in writing."

The room fell silent, and even breathing seemed conspicuous. Morris, the impeccably dressed family butler, looked shocked at my boldness. No one questioned Richard Kingsley's word, especially not a twenty-year-old girl who had married into the family less than twelve hours ago.

Richard's face darkened, his thick eyebrows knitting together like storm clouds. I could feel the temperature in the room suddenly drop several degrees.

Morris quickly intervened. "Mrs. Kingsley," he addressed me with my new title that still felt strange to me, "the master always keeps his word. Give it time, and you'll understand. Since he's promised to protect Cole Technologies, he won't allow any harm to come to your family's company. A written agreement isn't necessary. You're family now—documents would only damage relationships."

His eyes pleaded with me to yield. I understood this silent message—continuing to insist would only make things worse. I had to swallow my discontent and nod slightly.

Richard stormed out, his silver-tipped cane striking heavily against the floor with each step.

I walked slowly through the mansion's second-floor hallway, my mind racing. I had angered my new father-in-law, but how could I trust someone who had essentially blackmailed me into this marriage? What if the Kingsley family forgot their promises over time? The memory of Wright Industries' collapse flashed through my mind—executives prosecuted, careers destroyed, lives ruined. The thought sent chills down my spine.

My worried thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an argument from below. My curiosity piqued, I walked to the edge of the railing, looking down at the magnificent entrance hall. Under the massive crystal chandelier, three men stood in a tense confrontation.

In the grand entrance hall downstairs, Alexander was heading for the door, while Morris and James tried to block his path.

"Mr. Alexander, this is your wedding night," Morris's voice carried a plea, "You should be with your bride. Leaving now would not only be inauspicious for newlyweds, but if the media found out, it would damage the family's reputation."

James stood nearby in his typical dark suit befitting his position, adding, "Alexander, you're twenty-eight years old. Stop being childish. Charlotte is your wife now—you have a responsibility to her. If you leave tonight, how will she hold her head up in Bay Area society tomorrow?"

"Brother," Alexander's voice was low but crystal clear in the vaulted space, each word carrying cold determination, "I know exactly what this marriage is about. Don't you understand? I agreed to the wedding. I didn't agree to anything more. Don't try to stop me—you can't."His eyes revealed his impatience.

As Alexander prepared to walk past James and leave, James made one last attempt: "Charlotte is watching you from upstairs."

Alexander paused, looking up, his gaze finding me at the railing. I carefully maintained my facial expression, not wanting to show any sign of weakness. For a moment, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, as if he might reconsider, but then he simply walked around James and out the front door. Seconds later, the roar of a Porsche engine cut through the night before gradually fading into silence.

I stood at the railing, my hands unconsciously clenching and relaxing, with complex emotions surging inside me—anger, humiliation, resentment, and also a strange sense of relief. At least now I wouldn't have to pretend to share space with this man, wouldn't have to act out a loving newlywed charade in front of strangers.

I returned to the wedding suite, feeling more exhausted than I had ever been. My situation at the Kingsley house was becoming increasingly precarious.

The bedroom was filled with elaborate antique furniture, making me feel like I'd walked into a museum rather than a bedroom. Everything here clashed with my preference for clean, simple designs.

My suitcase remained untouched in the corner. I hadn't even opened the walk-in closet supposedly filled with designer clothes selected for me. Instead, I stretched out on the sofa, closed my eyes, refusing to sleep in that mockery of a marriage bed.

Twelve more days until school starts, I reminded myself. Then I could move back to my apartment near campus. I just needed to hold on until then.