---

"Where is the bride?" a woman whispered to her friend who sat beside her, her eyes darting towards the altar, her dark eyes filled with a mocking glint .

"It looks like she left the groom standing," her friend replied, fanning herself lightly with the wedding invitation, adjusting the tight gown on her body as if it made her uncomfortable in the growing tension of the room.

"Wow, I've never heard of a bride leaving the groom at the altar," a woman seated behind them remarked with a hint of mockery in her voice, her lips curving into a slight, disbelieving smirk. All eyes were on the man standing before the altar, rigid as a statue beside the priest.

His posture, once strong and confident, wavered slightly as whispers filled the hall, the judgmental murmurs becoming louder with each passing second. His hands clenched into fists, the muscles in his jaw tightening as his eyes caught the sharp, questioning gaze of his father seated at the front. His father's expression, darkened with disappointment, seemed to weigh even heavier on his already tensed shoulders.

He scanned the hall, eyes searching desperately for the one person who should have been by his side. Then he saw her—a shock of red hair at the back of the room. Daisy, his personal assistant, stood near the door, tapping her heels nervously against the marbled floor as she furiously typed on her phone. Her eyes met his for a brief, panicked moment before she quickly looked away, pretending to focus once again on the screen in her hands.

With a nod, he signaled to a young man standing by his side. "I'll be right back, and I'll have my bride with me," he growled, his voice barely controlled. "Tell the gossipers to shut the hell up." His words were laced with anger, the sharp edge cutting through the whispers as he stepped down from the altar, his eyes narrowing as he dared anyone to meet his gaze.

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Zade made his way toward the redhead at the door.

"Daisy," he said coldly as he grabbed her arm, his grip firm, dragging her toward the back door of the bride's changing room.

She winced but didn't resist. "Sir..."

"Where is my bride?" he asked through gritted teeth, his patience dangerously thin. His voice was low, menacing, as his fingers dug into her arm. Daisy, trembling slightly in his grip, couldn't meet his gaze.

"Zade..." she stammered, her words barely coherent as fear tangled with her thoughts. How could she explain that the woman she had hired for this contract marriage had disappeared? How could she tell him that the bride had sent a message just this morning saying, 'I'm so sorry, but I can't marry Zade Harnes. I love someone else.' The coward hadn't even bothered to show up.

'Stupid, selfish woman', Daisy cursed inwardly, sweat breaking out across her forehead. The bride had taken the money and vanished, leaving Daisy to face Zade's wrath. *How could she do this to me?* she thought, her panic rising. Zade was furious, and rightly so. He was the heir to the Harnes Group, and being humiliated in front of such a high-profile audience was a death sentence—for his reputation and possibly for her.

Zade's voice dropped, dangerously calm now. "Where is she, Daisy? Don't make me repeat myself."

"Sir..." she swallowed hard, gathering what little courage she had left.

"She said she… she can't make it."

Zade laughed, but it wasn't a sound of amusement. It was a bitter, mocking laugh that chilled her to the bone.

"She can't make it? To her own wedding?" His laughter died abruptly, replaced by a dark, simmering fury that showed in his flared nostrils and narrowed eyes. His gaze could burn holes through steel.

Daisy had never seen him like this, not even when she had messed up his billion-dollar contract by sending him to the wrong location. This was different. His pride, his position, his family's reputation, it was all on the line. And she could feel his anger, raw and seething, pressing down on her like a physical weight.

"I gave you one job, Daisy," he said, his voice calm but full of venom. "One simple task. Find me a woman to marry so I could secure my position. You assured me 'yesterday', with that smile on your face that you had it all handled. So tell me, where is she? Where is my bride?"

Daisy's heart raced as she looked around the room, her eyes refusing to meet his. "I... I can fix this. I can..."

Zade stepped toward her, a predatory gleam in his eyes as his hand grabbed a fistful of her red hair, yanking her closer. She gasped, her wide, brown eyes filling with fear.

"And how exactly are you going to fix this?" he snarled, his breath hot and furious on her face.

"I'll find you a new bride, sir," she whispered, the words weak even to her own ears. How could she possibly find him a bride 'right now'? It was impossible. But if she didn't say something, if she didn't try, Zade might actually kill her.

He had given her three months to find a woman—a woman who would fit the low-profile, discreet persona he needed for his plan. He didn't care about love or romance. He needed a wife to meet the absurd requirement in his grandfather's will. Every Harnes heir had to be married before they turned thirty, or else the title would pass to the next in line.

And Zade was turning thirty tomorrow. If he didn't marry today, everything—his reputation, his work, his family's empire—would crumble. All that he had built over the past eight years would be lost. His scheming cousin, backed by Zade's uncle, had been waiting for this exact moment. A moment to swoop in and claim the Harnes legacy for themselves. Daisy knew all of this, and the pressure made her stomach churn with anxiety.

Zade's eyes bore into her, his frustration palpable as he ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. The muscles in his jaw flexed, and he let go of her hair with a sigh. He turned, staring at her with an intensity that made her feel like prey.

"Wear the wedding gown. We're getting married."

Daisy's eyes widened in shock, her lips parting as if to argue, but no words came out. Surely, she had misheard him.

"Wait, you're serious?" she finally managed, her voice incredulous. But his expression told her he wasn't joking. He was dead serious.

"You need help, don't you? To take down your stepmother and her daughter, to reclaim your rightful inheritance to 'Balfour Industries' as the rightful heiress right ?" Zade's voice was low but firm, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'll give you all the help you need. I'll make sure you get what's yours. But on one condition—you marry me."