3

"Here's the contract for our marriage. Read through it and tell me what you think." Gordon said, handing me a file as we drove to the town hall, and I carefully did, not wanting to sign a slave contract.

"I've gone through it, and I think everything is fair." I said after a few minutes, and I let out a shaky breath. "But I have one question. Will we have to do, um... married couple stuff?"

"What do you mean by married couple stuff?" He raised a brow.

"You know... do we, would we have to, um... consummate our wedding? As in sleep with each other?" I asked shyly.

"Do you want us to consummate our wedding, dear Iris? because I sure won't mind." He smirked, and heat rushed through me.

'Yes,' I almost said, and I almost murdered myself at how shameless I was. Because he was hot didn't mean I should sleep with him. He was a stranger even though he was my husband.

"I would. I can't sleep with a man I just met because of a contract, and if I don’t have the choice, I'd rather walk away from all this." I cleared my throat.

"Relax, we don't have to do anything." He laughed.

"Thank you." I breathed a sigh of relief, and I stiffened when he suddenly grabbed my cheek and leaned closer.

"But, whenever you're ready, know I'm always available. I can never turn down my beautiful wife." He smiled seductively, and my heart pounded.

"Sir, we're here." The chauffeur announced.

"Let's go get married, shall we?" Gordon smiled and helped me out of the car.

The process was swift, and in a few minutes I was holding my wedding certificate in my hands. The weight of what I had done suddenly rested on me, and I sighed. It was too late to turn back now.

"Wait for me at the car; I need to see someone for a few seconds." Gordon said, and I nodded.

As I walked into the parking lot, a familiar car drove in, and without thinking, I quickly crouched behind a bush.

Blair and Thomas came out of the car, and my stomach dropped.

My chest tightened as I watched the two of them walk into the building, holding hands and giggling like they hadn't just betrayed me less than twenty-four hours ago.

"What are you doing?" Gordon asked, popping up behind me.

"Nothing. I just saw Thomas and Blair, and I didn't want them to see me." I replied and stood up.

"You know you're still going to meet them this evening?" He said, and I nodded.

Gordon had invited our families for dinner to announce our marriage to them.

"You know, if you're not ready, we can always shift it."

"No, it's fine. It was better we do it now, as I'm still pissed by the betrayal yesterday. If we wait, I'm afraid I'll become too chicken to confront them properly." I replied.

His phone rang, and after a few seconds of talking to the person on the other line, he grinned at me.

"What?" I blinked.

"I hope you don't mind playing dress-up because I've literally turned our home into a boutique." Gordon chuckled.

"A boutique?"

"You'll find out when we get home." He said as he gently pulled me to the car.

When we arrived at the mansion, I was surprised to see people wheeling in racks of different clothes.

"Mr Graff. We've gotten everything you needed. The best designs from the company." A blonde-haired woman said, and her smile widened when her eyes went to me. "You must be the new Mrs Graff. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Bethany Sizo, your stylist."

"My stylist? What is going on, Gordon? Are we preparing for a fashion parade or something? I thought it was dinner with our families that was today." I asked, scrunching my brows.

"Yes, but now, you're no longer the daughter of Victor Adams; you're now the wife of Gordon Graff, the CEO of the best fashion company in the world. You have to dress the part." Gordon said.

"But what's wrong with the clothes I already have? They're pretty." I frowned as I remembered the clothes that Irene had placed in my closet when I arrived yesterday. Few, yes, but at least they were cute.

"Those were only meant to be temporary. Besides, don't you want your own wardrobe curated to your taste?" He asked.

Oh, I did more than he could imagine. I had never been able to choose what I wanted to wear because it was either I got Blair's worn-out clothes or clothes from a thrift store that were always ugly and falling apart.

The wedding dress was the only clothes I had that didn't look like rags, but it was my mom that chose it.

"Are you sure this is fine? I don't want to waste your money." I whispered.

"Nonsense, what greater pleasure does a man have than spending his money on his wife?" He smirked as he cupped my cheek, and I blushed.

'He doesn't mean it; he's only acting the part of a good husband because people are looking,' I told myself, but my stomach still fluttered at his words.

"I guess if you're fine with it, then I'm fine." I mumbled.

"Good. I leave my wife in your care, Bethany. Take good care of her, and don't listen to her if she starts complaining the clothes are too much. Don't let her be modest." Gordon said, and I frowned at how easily he could predict me.

"Yes, sir. By the time we're done, Mrs Graff is going to need to extend her closet." Bethany grinned.

"Good. See you later," he smiled, and I gasped when he kissed my cheek.