Aranya stared at the marriage certificate in her hands, her mind whirling as she tried to make
sense of it. Mike Sinclair. The name felt foreign, as though it belonged to a stranger—because,
well, it did. What on earth was going on here?
Finally, she checked out the picture at the bottom of the page and frowned all over again.
Staring back at her from the page was indeed a blurry picture of her, but the man standing next
to her, she couldn't even make out his face. Why was this photocopy so blurry? If she had been
married to someone and had forgotten... which was impossible, but was this really a
coincidence that the person in the picture was not recognisable? They could have printed a
clear photocopy of it.
But then she sighed. There was no need to torture herself. She would go to the civil affairs
bureau today and make sure this thing was not fake. Finally, with a sigh, she placed the
marriage certificate aside and moved to check the second page that had fallen out of the
envelope. It was an address. She'd barely read the heading- Sin Mansion when there was a
loud banging on the door.
She jumped then and hurriedly grabbed both the papers and pushed them under the mattress
as the maid called out," Miss Aranya. Are you being lazy and sleeping still? Your aunt is calling
for you!"
The urgency in the maid's tone sent a wave of panic through Aranya. There was no time to
waste. Her aunt would be furious if she kept her waiting, and her own mind needed more time to
process the absurdity of the situation. With a quick, frantic motion, Aranya stood up wondering
why her aunt woke up early today.
Usually, the woman did not get out of bed before noon. It was also why she had planned an
early morning escape for tomorrow. If this happened tomorrow, her own plans would go for a
toss.
Shaking her head, she quickly stood up and rushed down the stairs. This was not the time to be
distracted. She had to stay alert. This was her last day here and tomorrow she would be free.
She could not afford to make a mistake.
She plastered a polite smile on her face as she entered the room, and her gaze immediately
landed on her aunt, who was seated in her usual commanding posture on the cream-colored
sofa. But this time, there was another man sitting next to her. Ah. They had company.
Was this man probably her aunt's new suitor? The older woman did have a lot of those. But, she
shrugged inwardly. It was none of her concern so she shoud not speculate and focus on
escaping as soon as possible.
"Good morning, auntie," Aranya said, and leaned down to kiss her aunt on the cheek.
As expected, the woman turned her head at the last minute, not letting the kiss land and instead
smiled at her," Aranya. Good morning, child. Look what I have here. A birthday gift for you."
Uh oh. That didn't sound good. Aranya's instincts screamed at her to run, but she forced a bright
smile onto her face, masking the dread clawing at her. She clapped her hands together with
feigned excitement, the perfect epitome of crazy and asked, "Where? Auntie? What did you get
me? I can't wait to see it!"
Neya Snow's lips curved into a saccharine smile, "Ah, Aranya, not what. Ask who," she said in a
tone dripping with sweetness.So sweet that Aranya was sure she might get diabetes. "I'd like
you to meet Luke. He is your birthday gift."
The words hit Aranya like a bucket of ice water, and the sinking feeling in her stomach twisted
into a cold, hard knot of disbelief. Her gaze darted between her aunt's overly pleased
expression and the tall man who now stood from the couch smiling at her as if it was perfectly
normal to marry a girl who was at least forty years younger. Yep. She was sure this man was at
least sixty if not more.
Finally, she managed to plaster on a smile that felt more like a grimace and stammered,
"Auntie... I don't think you can gift human beings." Also
Her aunt's expression darkened immediately and the smile vanished as her eyes narrowed in
warning. That look was enough to send a chill down Aranya's spine—a silent promise of
retribution for her insolence.
Before her aunt could deliver the scolding that Aranya was sure was coming, the
man—Luke—chuckled.
"Miss Neya," Luke said, stepping closer to Aranya, which made her instinctively take a step
back, "you're absolutely correct. Your niece is delightful. She has a wonderful sense of humor."
His words were accompanied by an easy smile, but his eyes lingered on her, in a way that made
sure that she knew he was not appreciating her 'sense of humour'.
She forced a polite laugh, one that sounded hollow even to her ears. "Well, I do try," she said
lightly but her hands clenched tightly behind her back.
"Hello, Aranya." The grandpa said. "You are as beautiful as your picture. Happy birthday. Here,"
he added, holding out a small velvet box, "I got you a birthday gift."
Aranya looked at the old man and then the gift box. Why did it feel like the man was offering her
a snake?
She kept her hands behind her back, having no intention of taking the gift and shook her head
vigorously." I.. I'm sorry. I cannot accept this."
She knew that her aunt was glaring at her but she could not. Somehow accepting that box meant that she would forever be losing everything else.
"Don't be a fool, Aranya. You should feel honored. Not many girls get such a thoughtful birthday
gift from their fiance. Come on. Accept it and thant Mr Abbott."
Her aunt, who had regained her composure, gave her an approving nod. "Luke is being modest.
He's an Abbott. You should feel honored. Not many girls get such a thoughtful birthday gift."
"Right," Aranya muttered, her smile faltering as her mind raced. "But I cannot..."
Even as her mind scrambled for an excuse, she could see the man's expression crumble in
humiliation and he would have lashed out when her aunt took the box from him and pushed her
towards the man instead, "I'll hold this for her Luke. She is young and has never taken care of
precious things. She must be scared."
Aranya, who had been unceremoniously pushed towards the man jumped away from him as
she felt his hand land on her a** and ran away to her room, trembling.