Julian still wore that look like he was just watching a show. “So, you made up your mind?”
Violet pressed her lips together. She didn’t answer his question—instead she asked, “Why me?”
He could’ve picked anyone. He had the money, the family name, the looks. She had nothing—no family backing, no money, no real ability to offer someone like him.
He arched a brow, casual as hell. “’Cause you’re interesting enough.”
That answer made no sense to her. How could interesting be enough to marry someone he’d barely known for a day? She had no way out, but he could change his mind whenever he wanted.
He seemed to read her thoughts. “Don’t overthink it. Call it a deal. You help me, I help you.”
Violet lifted her eyes and found herself caught in his gaze—blue eyes flecked with hazel that up close looked almost green, fake green, like he wasn’t nearly as simple as he wanted people to think.
He looked away first, masking it with a faint smile. He held his hand out, palm up. “I’ll take that as a yes. Take my hand, fiancée.”
His hand was warm and solid, sending a strange feeling crawling up her chest. She didn’t even have time to process it before he was ushering her into another suite.
Inside, a group of maids were already waiting. They worked in sync like a well-oiled machine—scrubbed her clean, left her smelling like flowers, a makeup artist swooped in, hair pinned into a low bun, then they swept her into a dressing room where a pure white wedding gown was slipped over her shoulders.
When the doors opened again, Julian was already changed into a white three-piece suit, adjusting the boutonniere on his lapel. The moment he heard her, he looked up. For a split second his gaze froze on her before he masked it, face slipping back to nonchalance.
He stepped up and took her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Got your ID?”
Violet blinked. “Wait—you mean… right now?”
“Of course.” A smirk tugged at his lips. “Strike while the iron’s hot. What’re we waiting for?”
He pulled her straight into a chapel. A kindly looking priest was already standing at the front. Julian led her down the aisle, casual as ever. “We’re ready.”
With no guests and only a few flowers thrown around, the chapel felt hollow, the quiet making his voice echo.
The priest hesitated. Clearly he wasn’t used to a wedding this bare. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Ashford, you’ll still need two witnesses for this to be legal.”
Julian paused, then grinned like a kid caught cheating on a test. “Oh, that’s how it works? My bad, first wedding and all. Hang on.”
He glanced at the doors. “Craig, Jay, get in here.”
The two assistants exchanged confused looks but walked in.
Julian jerked his chin toward them. “Congrats, you’re our witnesses.” He looked back at the priest. “That’ll do, yeah?”
The priest nodded.
And just like that, before Violet even had time to process being his fiancée, she was officially his wife. Julian slid a ring onto her finger. “Picked it up last minute, not fancy enough. I’ll get you a better one later.”
Violet lowered her eyes to the giant diamond nearly blinding her, but she held her tongue. Instead she asked quietly, “What about your family? Shouldn’t they be here to witness your wedding?”
She had no family anymore. But he came from a big clan—so why wasn’t anyone here? Or… was this whole wedding just a performance for himself?
Julian let out a low chuckle. “Ah… speaking of them…”
He glanced at his watch. “By now they should be—” He didn’t even finish before the sound of a car pulling up cut him off. Footsteps followed, quick and sharp.
Violet turned toward the noise. Sunlight slipped through the opening door, and in walked a glamorous middle-aged woman. Every strike of her heels against the floor said she was pissed.
Violet hadn’t expected her first meeting with his family to be like this—walking straight into a storm. Clearly, they weren’t thrilled about the marriage. And of course Julian hadn’t warned her at all. He just patted her lower back, leaning in to murmur, “Don’t stress. Just be yourself. Don’t bother being polite.”
Before Violet could answer, the woman was already in front of them. She shot Violet a look of disdain, then locked eyes on Julian. “Darling, getting married is a big deal. How could you not tell me? You’ve broken your poor mother’s heart.”
Violet blinked in surprise. The woman looked well-kept, dressed to perfection—hardly like someone old enough to have a son Julian’s age.
Before she could even process it, a strong arm pulled her into Julian’s chest. His voice, deep and lazy, brushed over the top of her head. “Mom, let me introduce you. This is my wife, Violet.”
“Mrs. Ashford, nice to meet you,” Violet tried politely, but Serena Ashford ignored her completely.
“Wife? DON’T tell me you two already registered?” Serena’s expression froze.
“Yeah,” Julian said easily, tightening his hold on Violet. “What’s the problem? Mom, I’m crazy about her. I swear, this time it’s the real thing.”
Even with Serena’s face about to explode, Julian acted like nothing was wrong, pressing a kiss to Violet’s forehead. To anyone watching, he looked like the picture of a doting groom—careful, tender, in love.
“You’ve always called me a slacker, nagged me to settle down. Well, I did. And now you’re not happy?” Julian arched a brow, smug.
“YOU…” Serena faltered, her tone sharp with frustration. “I already picked someone for you. Nicole—she’s perfect. Family, education, looks. Why throw yourself away on some random girl with nothing to offer?”
“You don’t get to talk about Violet like that,” Julian cut her off, suddenly serious. “And I never liked Nicole. I just want someone I want. Besides, isn’t the company going to my cousin anyway? Then why the hell do I need a bride with connections?”
Serena went quiet, realizing she’d overreacted. She reined in her expression. “So it’s really just because you like her?”
The girl was stunning, she had to admit. Not like the club girls Julian usually toyed with. Maybe he was dazzled, that was all.
“Even so, you didn’t need to rush it. At least bring her home first, let us meet her, plan a proper wedding together. You’re still an Ashford—this… this is sloppy.”
Her gaze swept the chapel. Just flowers, no guests, a priest, and the two witnesses were his assistants. She’d never seen a wedding so bare-bones.
Julian didn’t miss a beat. “That’s fine. We’ll throw another one if you want. Hell, we can do as many as you like.” He leaned his forehead against Violet’s. “Right, sweetheart?”
Violet forced a small smile. “Whatever you say.”
She wasn’t half as smooth as Julian, but she’d promised to play along and she wasn’t about to drag him down.
Serena’s face stayed tight, clearly still stewing. “Fine. In that case, no time like the present. Tonight. Your uncle and cousin will want to meet this girl of yours.”