Married Into His Millions

Chapter 2

The room was a tomb of silence, the kind that pressed against the eardrums and coiled around the soul. Charles Christopher sat slumped on the couch, his mind a whirlwind of chaos, replaying his mother’s bombshell over and over.

The weight of her words—“if you’re not married by twenty-eight, your shares are forfeited”—clung to him like damp fog. His hands trembled slightly as he stared into the void, lost in an episode of frantic thinking. The stakes were higher than ever, and the clock was ticking with ruthless precision—two months until his twenty-eighth birthday.

The empire his father built, the legacy he’d bled to uphold, could slip through his fingers if he didn’t act.

“Have a good night, Mom,” he finally said, his voice flat and weary as he rose from the couch. “Peter will show you the way out.”

Mrs. Susan scoffed, her lips curling into a bitter sneer.

“What an honorable way to treat your mother,” she spat, her heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor as she stormed toward the door.

The sound echoed like a gunshot, leaving a trail of tension in its wake.

Charles didn’t turn to watch her go; his focus was inward, a storm brewing behind his dark blue eyes.

He trudged into his bedroom, Peeling off his office attire. The shower beckoned, and he stepped under the scalding water, letting it wash away the grime of the day but not the turmoil in his mind.

Wrapped in a plush bathroom robe, he sank onto the edge of his bed and dialed Damian, his oldest friend and confidant.

“She’s totally out of her mind, bro,” Charles said, his voice rough with frustration.

“Hmm… what if she’s right, man?” Damian’s tone was cautious, probing.

“There’s no way she is! If she was, Attorney Paul should’ve said something since,” Charles shot back, his defensiveness a shield against the gnawing doubt.

“Don’t you have a copy of the will in your possession?” Damian pressed.

“Have you gone through it thoroughly? Are you sure there’s nothing like that?”

“Well… erhh,” Charles stammered, the words catching in his throat. The truth was, he hadn’t. The will had been a formality, a document he’d skimmed and filed away, trusting Paul to handle the details.

“Man, that’s why Attorney Paul never told you,” Damian said, his voice steady but firm. “He assumed you already knew.”

“s**t!” Charles exploded, running a hand through his damp hair. “Bro, what do I do? This s**t is crazy for real. I can’t even think straight right now. I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack.” His breath came in short, ragged bursts, the room spinning as the reality sank deeper.

“Hey… hey, chill,” Damian soothed, his voice a lifeline. “We’ll figure this out, yeah? How about you come out for a late-night drink? Clear your head at our favorite spot.”

“Alright, I’ll be with you in twenty minutes,” Charles agreed, clinging to the promise of distraction.

Damian strode into the dimly lit bar, the hum of conversation and clink of glasses a familiar comfort. He spotted Charles already seated at their usual corner table, a glass of whiskey untouched before him.

“Hey, man,” Damian greeted, sliding into the chair beside him. But Charles didn’t respond—his gaze was fixed, unblinking, on a figure across the room.

“You like her?” Damian asked, following his friend’s line of sight to the woman who had captured Charles’s attention. She was striking, with a lean frame and sharp features, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun, exuding a casual confidence.

“No,” Charles muttered, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “She was the girl I went on a blind date with tonight. She turned me down ’cause she’s a lesbian.”

“Damn, she’s hot though,” Damian teased, earning a rare chuckle from Charles.

“I wonder what she’s doing here,” Charles mused, his eyes narrowing. “Maybe she’s meeting someone.”

“From her body language, you can tell it’s her first time meeting this person,” Damian observed, leaning back with a knowing nod.

“She looks nervous, keeps checking herself out.”

Just then, a woman approached Vee’s table, and they embraced. The bar’s soft lighting caught the newcomer’s face, and Charles’s breath hitched.

“Whaaat! No way!!” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and fury.

“What’s the problem?” Damian asked, startled by the outburst.

“This lady is a thief,” Charles said, his jaw tightening. “A huge, pretty one. We had a thing one night, and before dawn, she eloped with my valuables. It was a b***h tracking her down, so I let it go. But this time, I ain’t letting her slip away.” He stood, his movements deliberate, a predator closing in on prey.

Damian leaned back, sipping his drink with a smirk. “This is gonna be a long, dramatic night,” he murmured to himself.

Vee and Eliana had connected through a dating app, their first date unfolding with awkward anticipation. Vee fidgeted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, uh… what would you like to order?” she asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

Before Eliana could respond, a shadow loomed over their table. “Hello, ladies,” Charles said, his tone firm, his eyes boring into Eliana with a storm of hatred and anger.

Vee recognized him instantly. “What’s going on here? Do you two know each other?”

Eliana froze, her hands clutching the hem of her dress as panic surged. This man could ruin her carefully laid plans, maybe even land her in handcuffs. No way was she letting that happen.

“He’s an acquaintance from a long time ago,” she cut in quickly, her voice steady despite the tremor in her chest. “Can we chat privately?”

She rose, and Charles followed, their steps leading to a secluded corner away from prying eyes. The air crackled with tension.

“You’re pretty brave for a ferocious thief, y’know,” Charles slammed, his voice low and venomous. Eliana remained mute, her heart pounding.

“You’re definitely not a lesbian, so what’s your plan, huh? Woo her and steal her valuables? Collect her money or blackmail her with nude pictures?”

His words sliced through her, each one dripping with rage. “Your attitude disgusts me. It’s so sad you’ve got a pretty, innocent face that’s so deceiving! Can’t believe I fell for it once.”

“I did what I did for me,” Eliana fired back, her voice faint but defiant. “It’s not like you were special or anything.”

“Oh, I see you’re proud,” Charles sneered, his eyes darkening. “Let’s see what your little date has to say about this—and the police, too.”

“What?” Eliana’s voice cracked, fear flooding her blue eyes.

“You little thief,” he growled, his cold gaze locking onto hers, unblinking. “You’ve got balls to assume you can rob me and go scot-free.”

Trembling, Eliana’s crocodile tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, please let me go—I made a huge mistake.

If you spare me, I’ll do anything you ask, sir.” Her plea was desperate, her hands shaking as she clasped them together.

“Anything…?” A dark smile curled his lips, his deep blue eyes lighting up with a sinister gleam. He stepped closer, his gaze never breaking from hers.

He brushed her hair back, revealing those sparkling blue eyes, and his thumb grazed her lips with an unsettling tenderness.

“Marry me,” he commanded, his voice a chilling blend of authority and intrigue.