Chasing Mr Arrogant

PROLOGUE

The walk down the aisle felt surreal. The church was filled with faces I couldn't recognize - business associates and socialites, all there to witness the union of two people. I scanned the altar, expecting to see my soon-to-be husband, waiting for me.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd as I reached the empty spot where my groom should have been. My chest tightened, a mix of confusion and embarrassment washing over me. I clutched my bouquet, kept my chin, and smiled up to advertise the lost feeling I had from getting a ruined marriage day.

Suddenly, a man in a crisp suit approached with a black box.

"Miss Hornet, Your husband sends his apologies and this package."

My hands trembled as I took the box, aware of the hundreds of eyes upon me. As I slowly opened the box, my heart fluttered. A shimmering diamond ring and a note.

“Miss,

Business calls. Consider us married. The man who delivered this will stand in as a proxy.

The pastor cleared his throat suddenly bringing me back into the event and the man nodded to me.

We both took our place on the altar waiting for what was to come next.

“Will you, Party A, take Rachel Hornet as your lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health?” the pastor asked the man standing in place of my husband.

Not only was my groom absent, but he had also refused to disclose his name, hiding behind a veil of mystery that only added to the sting of rejection.

“Yes, he does,” the man replied firmly.

He never glanced at me—not once. His face was unreadable and eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, as though this were a casual outing at the beach rather than a sacred union in a church.

“And do you, Rachel Hornet, take Party A as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

There were no romantic gestures, no vows exchanged from the heart, and certainly no marriage sealed with a kiss. Instead, as soon as the pastor pronounced us husband and wife, a document was thrust into my hands, finalizing what felt more like a transaction than a marriage.

This was never how I imagined my life would turn out. Marriage had never been on my mind, not since my parents passed away, leaving me to fend for myself at an early age.

Grandma had been my last anchor to the family, and now she was gone too. Her dying wish had tied me to a stranger—an arranged marriage with a man I’d never even seen.

The groom’s family was present, though their smiles were faint. His mother, Teresa, made an effort to welcome me, but her forced kindness couldn’t hide her own unease. It seemed no one in this arrangement was truly happy.

The man beside me—a stand-in for the absent groom—grasped my hand lightly as we left the church. It was supposed to be a couple’s final walk, but it felt more like a bodyguard escorting a client. I couldn’t blame him; he wasn’t the groom, after all.

We stopped by a sleek black car parked outside. He opened the door and waited for me to slide inside before taking the driver’s seat.

“You can open the document,” he said finally, breaking the silence that had hung heavy between us all day.

I nodded, my hands trembling as I fumbled with the folder. Inside were legal papers: the deeds to two properties in my name, a car, and a slip confirming a transaction of over a million dollars to my account.

And then, tucked at the bottom, there was a letter.

Miss,

Here’s everything you’ll ever need. If there’s anything more you require, contact this man.

Everything I’d need? I hadn’t asked for any of this. I hadn’t asked for an absent husband, a transactional marriage, or being tied to a stranger I couldn’t even picture.

The man in the driver’s seat didn’t spare me a glance as he started the car. His hands gripped the wheel with the precision of someone trained to focus, to execute a task without question.

“Who am I supposed to contact?”

“There's a number on the last page,” he said without emotion. “He’s the one in charge of handling… additional requests. Just send a message there whenever you need any.”

I flipped the paper and sure enough there was a number at the back but that was all, just a number, no name added to it.

“You can only send messages,no calls, nothing else.” He spoke again.

I could never communicate with this man and they made sure of that.

“Will he be coming anytime soon?” I felt a heavy lump leave my throat.

“I don't know, Miss.” Was his response before he focused back on the road.

~••~

We drove past a number of buildings and stopped by a house, no an estate. The gates opened gracefully and he drove in.

To my surprise, the families of the groom's were already present outside, waiting for me.

As soon as I stepped out, a man handed me a package and attached to it was another note.

I've prepared something for you. I hope you like the dress.

“Get dressed, dear.” Tersa said with a smile. “The wedding reception has already begun.”

I returned the smile despite not understanding a word she uttered. A reception, alone? Or was the stand by groom supposed to stay with me too

Regardless, I was shown my room and later, I changed into a black silk Zara dress that was provided.

The reception was a luxury solemn ceremony. The lavish hall was decked out in flowers and conversation filled the air. It should have felt like a celebration, but to me, it felt like stepping into the spotlight of a play I hadn’t rehearsed for.

Teresa, ever the gracious host, greeted me as I descended the staircase.

“You look lovely, my dear. Your husband’s taste is impeccable.”

I forced a smile, suppressing the urge to laugh bitterly. Taste? It was hard to appreciate the effort when the man himself hadn’t bothered to show up.

The room hushed as Teresa led me to the center of the hall. Guests turned to look at me, their faces filled with curiosity and polite approval.A server handed me a glass of champagne, and I clutched it tightly, hoping the bubbling liquid might ease the lump in my throat.

Teresa raised her glass for a toast. “To Rachel, the newest member of our family. May her future be as bright as the stars.”

Everyone echoed her sentiment and sipped so did I but my gaze wandered to the grand doors at the far end of the room.

Would he walk in? Would he make a last-minute appearance, offer some kind of explanation, or even an apology?

No. He never did.