"YOU ARE getting married?!!?" Mars asked as Electra shoved a perfectly folded blazer into her suitcase. "Why would you get married?" he added. She was back at her apartment, which she had shared with her best friend Mars Laurent since they were in law school, and was packing up her things.
"What do you mean why would I get married? Why won't I get married? Everyone wants to get married, don't you want to get married?" Electra asked rhetorically, fully aware that Mars was a hopeless romantic.
"Yeah, but not this way. You need to get married to the man you love. Your neglectful father is using you for a business transaction, don't you see?" Mars held her hands, stopping them from closing the suitcase.
Mars and Electra had been best friends for a decade and also housemates. They went to high school together, then the same college, and also the same law school. They even began to work at the same law firm as attorneys. It was safe to say they were soulmates, the friendship type.
Unlike her family, Mars was an only child, and they would go to his house during Christmas and other holidays every year.
"He's not using me. It's a typical thing families like mine do. It's not something new," Electra responded and yanked her hand from his to close her suitcase. "The wedding is in two weeks, and I'll move from my dad's place to my soon-to-be-husband's house, so I'll be throwing away the things I don't pick from here," she added.
Mars placed the closed suitcase on the floor and sat on the bed in front of her. "Lectty, you're a good person with a good heart, and I know this is going to be hard for you to take in, but I want you to realize that your father doesn't care about you. Nobody from that Cunningham family cares about you," Mars held her hands and spoke softly, but Electra couldn't help but scoff.
"Why do you think that? Because I'm the mistress's daughter and not fully a Cunningham but a Beaumont?" Electra didn't need him to explain the concept of wealthy families to her when he wasn't part of one himself.
"We are different from normal families."
"No, no, no, Lectty. That's not it. Remember we've been friends since we were sixteen, and I know you more than you know yourself. I also know that your family never checked up on you since you were asked to move to that condo. Mrs. Beaumont, your mom, never called to ask how you were either, but at least she always sent monthly allowances which allowed you to attend law school and all. What did Mr. Cunningham, your father, do for you in eight years?" he asked rhetorically.
"..."
"Exactly! Nothing. He did nothing for you, then out of nowhere, he called you home and blackmailed you into agreeing to get married to some rich brat in the name of 'helping the family.' That's total bullshit," he added.
"..."
"You're better off being Electra Beaumont than Electra Cunningham," he finished.
"Mars, I get what you mean, but you need to understand that my father cares about me. He even called me 'dear.' He just doesn't know how to show it. He would never see a bad place and push me to it. He's my dad," Electra wouldn't say she completely understood his points, but she wasn't going to go back on her words with her dad.
She had already said she would get married, and there was no way she would go back to her dad and tell him she didn't want to get married anymore.
"Mars, he is my father, and no father will ever wish bad on their child. I know that he didn't ask about me in eight years, but I'm sure he was looking after me from afar and I would never have made it far without him too. The family needs my help, and I need to prove to them I care about them," Electra took a seat beside him and let out, hoping he would agree and support her.
"If you say so, but I still can't believe I'll be losing my best friend and housemate to some undeserving bastard. Who will cook food for me now that you're leaving?" Mars rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her, whining.
"You should have learned how to cook for yourself. Maybe if you get a girlfriend, she'll move in here and cook for you," she said and placed her head on his.
"No! I want your food only...and I thought I would be on the wedding altar with you when you get married," he mumbled, pulling himself off her body.
"To perform the ceremony? Do you have some kind of priest's certificate I don't know about?" Electra questioned, confused as to why he would want to be on the wedding altar with her on her wedding day.
"Not to perform the ceremony..." he trailed off.
"Then why would you want to be on the altar? To be the flower girl?" she teased, but he stayed quiet for a few seconds, staring at her before sighing loudly. "You're so cute sometimes, it surprises me. Yes, to be the flower girl, but since I'm not agreeing to this marriage, you can find your flower girl elsewhere," he finished with a chuckle.
"What about your job? What are you going to do?" he breathed out.
"If you hadn't started an argument about how my father is using me, I would have talked about the job aspect. The man I'm getting married to is Ryker Cadel. THE Ryker Cadel of Cadel Law Firm. So I don't need to worry about my job. I will quit and obviously start working at Cadel Law Firm as his wife," she stated. That was the only part she looked forward to.
Cadel Law Firm was the biggest law firm in the country, and it was every aspiring lawyer or attorney's dream to work there. Getting married to the second son of the Cadel group who already worked there would be a free pass for her.
The courtroom was filled with a tense silence as Ryker Cadel stood confidently at the defense table. His presence commanded the room, every eye on him as he prepared to make his closing argument. The plaintiff, a young man wrongfully accused of embezzlement, looked at Ryker with a mixture of hope and desperation.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," Ryker began, his voice steady and strong. "What we have here is a clear case of wrongful accusation. My client, Mr. Blake, has been portrayed as a criminal, but the evidence—or rather, the lack thereof—tells a different story."
Ryker walked slowly across the courtroom, making eye contact with each juror. "The prosecution has failed to provide any substantial proof linking Mr. Blake to the crime. Instead, they have relied on circumstantial evidence and conjecture. But in our legal system, we cannot convict a man based on suspicions alone. We need facts, and the facts in this case are clear: Mr. Blake is innocent."