MARRIED FOR TIME

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

*Bastien’s POV*

Punching him was not something I had planned for. I am a man of strategy, of calculated moves and boardroom victories, not street brawls in a reception hall. But the way the guy—Tyler—stepped into my space and poked me aggressively in the chest crossed a line. My body reacted before my mind could authorize the strike.

HR flagged a “Tyler Renshaw” for exec onboarding yesterday. I’d ignored it. Nepotism hires weren’t my problem — until he put his hands on my wife.

The entire ballroom was in absolute chaos. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several guests immediately pulling out their phones, screens glowing as they filmed the scene, desperate to capture a billionaire in a scandal. Some of them might have recognized me.

"Look what you've done!" Chloe’s voice shrieked through the room, her pristine white bridal gown splattered with champagne from the ruined fountain. She ran to her groaning groom's side, pointing a trembling, accusatory finger at Valerie. "You always do this, Valerie! You couldn't stand seeing us happy, so you brought this thug to ruin my wedding! He's a monster, and you're pathetic!"

He was writhing on the floor among hundreds of shards of shattered crystal, clutching his bleeding nose. I stepped forward, my jaw clenched, ready to put him down permanently if he even attempted to stand.

Suddenly, a pair of small, warm hands clutched my right fist.

"Bastien, stop! Don't do it!" Valerie pleaded, her voice a frantic whisper as she anchored herself to my arm, physically pulling me back to prevent me from landing another punch.

Her touch cut through the white-hot adrenaline. I gritted my teeth, my breathing ragged as I forced my fingers to uncurl. Reaching onto a nearby table, I snatched a linen napkin and deliberately wiped Tyler’s blood from my knuckles, tossing the stained cloth onto his lap.

I looked up, meeting the terrified eyes of the venue manager who had rushed into the fray. "I will pay the invoice for damages and medical expenses," I commanded, my voice echoing with an icy, unyielding authority that silenced the murmuring crowd. "Every single cent will be cleared by morning." I threw my black card at him.

Without waiting for a response, I grabbed Valerie by the wrist and marched out of the grand hall, ignoring the flashing phone cameras following our every step.

---

The silence inside the luxury sedan was suffocating. The driver pulled away from the curb, navigating the dark city streets as the tension between us turned volatile.

"Are you completely out of your mind?!" Valerie suddenly exploded, turning in her seat to face me, her gray eyes flashing with a mix of shock and fury. "Why on earth would you do that? You had no right to strike him!"

My face became entirely cold. I stared straight ahead at the road, my hands gripping the armrest until my knuckles turned white. "I just stood up for you, Valerie," I said, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. "I shielded you from a man who laid his hands on you, and all you can do is blame me?"

"I didn't ask you to beat him up!" she snapped back, her chest heaving beneath the emerald silk dress. "We are in a business arrangement, Bastien! A corporate contract! You completely humiliated him in front of his entire family, and for what? To show off?!"

A bitter, dark smirk played on my lips, but beneath it, an unexpected pang of betrayal pierced straight through my chest. It was an unfamiliar, frustrating ache. Why did I care? She was a stranger. A transactional asset. But the anger boiling over in my throat felt entirely too personal.

"Tell me," I murmured, turning my head slowly to lock my silver eyes onto hers. "Is this reaction because you're still in love with him? Are you mourning the fact that your precious ex is bleeding on a ballroom floor?"

The idea makes me want to put him back on the floor.

Valerie scoffed, a defensive, mocking laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "And why do you care if I am still in love with him? What does it matter to you, Bastien? My feelings aren't part of the clauses we signed."

The car fell dead silent. I didn't answer. I couldn't. A strange, suffocating emotion gripped my chest—a feeling of absolute betrayal that I couldn't logically justify. I didn't own her heart. I didn't want it. Yet, the thought of her harboring affection for the i***t I had just leveled made me want to burn the city down.

"Pull over," Valerie commanded quietly, her voice tightening as she stared out the window. "I want to get down. I am not going back to your penthouse tonight."

I didn't say a single word. I didn't argue. Signaling the driver with a sharp tilt of my chin, the car pulled smoothly against the curb of a busy downtown intersection. I reached over, pushed the door lock open, and let the silence stretch between us. Valerie didn't look back; she gathered her green silk train, stepped out into the cool night air, and slammed the door shut.

"Drive," I muttered to the chauffeur, staring at the empty space beside me.

---

On getting to the penthouse, the quietness of the estate felt like a cage. I stripped off my tuxedo jacket, throwing it carelessly onto the floor, and walked straight into the master bathroom.

I turned the shower on, letting the freezing water run directly down my spine. I leaned my forehead against the cool marble wall, ruffling my wet hair in sheer distraction. Frustration vibrated through my muscles. I hit the wall angrily with my open palm, the sound echoing off the tiles. _Why did I step up for her? Why did I let her get under my skin?_ She was supposed to be a shield for my mother's peace of mind, nothing more.

Suddenly, the sharp, persistent buzz of my phone cut through the sound of rushing water.

Stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my waist, I picked up the vibrating device with wet hands. The caller ID flashed with the name of my executive secretary.

"Speak, Cynthia," I answered, my voice flat.

"Sir, we have a major situation," Cynthia’s voice poured through the line, tight with professional panic. "The videos from the wedding reception are already leaking online. The tabloids are picking it up fast. The current headlines are calling you an unhinged billionaire assaulting a groom on his wedding day. It’s affecting the morning stock projections."

"Scrub it," I commanded coldly, water dripping from my hair onto the floor. "Use every legal and financial leverage we have. I want those videos brought down within the hour, and delete every single headline mentioning my name or Sterling Enterprises. Pay off whoever you need to."

"I'm already on it, Mr. Kade, but—"

I ended the call before she could finish, tossing the phone onto the bed.

But before the screen could even go dark, it began to vibrate again. I frowned, looking down at the screen. My breath hitched slightly. It was my father. A man who occupied the chairman's seat of the global board and hardly ever called my personal line unless an empire was falling.

I pressed the phone to my ear. "Father."

"What is the meaning of this behavior, Bastien?!" Roderick Kade’s booming, aristocratic voice roared through the speaker, dripping with absolute disgust. He had clearly seen the news. "You have completely disgraced the Kade family name in a public banquet hall! You are behaving like an uncultured animal, letting a woman turn you into a tabloid joke!"

"It was a private matter, Father. It's being handled—"

"It is not handled!" his voice cut me off like a blade. "The board of directors is completely furious. I am demanding you come to the ancestral estate right now. As of tonight, you are handing over the executive operations of the company to your cousin, Kristen. If your pathetic emotions are going to bring down the reputation of Sterling Enterprises, you are no longer fit to run it."

The line went dead.

I stood alone in the dark bedroom, the phone still pressed to my ear, as my father's words settled like a death sentence.

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