Marriage Affairs

Time To Leave

By the time the last guest filtered out of the hall, the once lively atmosphere had quieted, leaving behind only the echo of footsteps and fading chatter. Outside the grand entrance of the wedding hall, Becca stood beside Alex, with Mr. and Mrs. Paige close by. The reality of everything still hadn't fully settled in her chest.

Mr. Wilson approached them, a small, neatly wrapped box in his hand and his usual warm smile on his face.

"Congratulations once again, daughter-in-law. You're welcome into the family," he said.

Becca returned the smile politely. "Thank you, Dad."

She had come to realize that Mr. Wilson—Desmond—was actually a kind and generous man. Nothing like the cold, distant figure standing a few steps away from her, speaking briefly on the phone.

Her eyes flickered toward Alex.

Unreadable as always.

"This is my welcome gift to you," Mr. Wilson continued, handing her the small present.

Becca hesitated for a second before taking it. Her fingers carefully unwrapped it, revealing a sleek, well-packaged car key.

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

Then Mr. Wilson pointed toward a far corner of the compound.

A car, hidden beneath a black shawl.

Becca's curiosity sparked instantly. Without thinking twice, she hurried toward it, her wedding dress slightly lifted as she moved. Gripping the edge of the cover, she pulled it off in one swift motion—

And gasped.

A brand-new, sleek grey BMW gleamed under the daylight.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with pure shock. She turned back, her hands instinctively coming together in gratitude. "Thank you so much, sir—thank you!"

"Don't mention it, my dear," Mr. Wilson chuckled. "We are one family now, remember?"

Becca nodded, still overwhelmed.

Her life had changed in less than 24 hours—and now this?

Mr. Wilson turned his attention to Mrs. Paige.

"I also have something for you," he said gently. "I understand this alliance may have caused you some distress… some inconvenience. Please accept this as both a promise and reassurance that your daughter will be well taken care of."

He handed her a small brown envelope.

Mrs. Paige exchanged a quick glance with her husband before opening it.

The moment she saw what was inside, her breath caught.

A cheque.

$10 million.

"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, covering her mouth in disbelief. "Thank you so much, Mr. Wilson… God bless you!"

"It's nothing," he replied calmly. "And please, call me Desmond. We are family now."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Desmond," Mr. Paige added, holding his emotional wife close.

Then Mr. Wilson turned to him.

"And for you, Andrew."

Mr. Paige straightened slightly.

"I heard you've been with OST Enterprise for almost four years now. Since the company was going bankrupt, Mr. Justus had already placed it up for auction."

He paused briefly.

"I bought it."

Silence.

"I've fully funded the company again… and I'm giving it to you."

Mr. Paige blinked in disbelief.

Mr. Wilson handed him a wider envelope.

With slightly trembling hands, Mr. Paige opened it.

Inside were official documents.

Ownership papers.

And another cheque.

$20 million.

For a moment, he couldn't speak.

"I… I don't even know what to say," he finally managed, his voice thick with emotion as he stepped forward to embrace Mr. Wilson. "Thank you… thank you so much for everything you've done for my family."

Mr. Wilson patted his back lightly. "It's nothing, Andrew. Your family… is now my family."

He then turned back to Becca, gently taking her hand.

"I believe it's time for you to head to your new home, my dear. Your belongings are already in the car. You can say your goodbyes—I'll go speak with my son."

And with that, he walked toward Alex.

Becca turned immediately to her parents, her composure finally breaking.

"Mum… Dad…" she called softly before pulling them into a tight embrace. "I'm going to miss you both so much."

"I'll miss you more, my princess," Mrs. Paige sobbed, holding her tightly.

Mr. Paige shook his head slightly. "You're going to make her cry more, Evie. Come here, Becca."

He opened his arms, and she moved into them.

"The Wilsons will keep you happy, my dear. Stay safe… and be strong."

Becca nodded, though her throat felt too tight to speak.

When they pulled apart, she noticed Alex and Mr. Wilson walking back toward them.

"It's time to leave," Alex said simply, glancing at his wristwatch.

Straightforward. No softness.

He had somewhere else to be.

"Alright… please take care of our daughter," Mrs. Paige said, hugging Becca one last time.

"Goodbye, Dad," Becca whispered.

Then she turned.

Step by step, she followed Alex toward the sleek black BMW parked nearby.

This was it.

No turning back.

She was leaving her home.

Leaving her identity.

Walking into a life with a man she barely knew—aside from his name, his status, and the strange pull she couldn't explain.

Her emotions tangled together.

Fear.

Uncertainty.

And something else… something she refused to name.

Just as they were about to get into the car—

A sharp sound of tires pulling in broke the moment.

A white GLE drove into the premises abruptly, followed closely by a black Mercedes-Benz.

The sudden arrival felt… wrong.

Too sudden.

Too tense.

The doors opened.

A fair, elegant middle-aged woman stepped out of the GLE, her expression tight with anger. There was a clear resemblance between her and Alex.

His mother.

From the passenger side, another woman stepped out—young, beautiful, dressed in expensive designer wear. Her face was equally upset.

From the second car, a man and another woman emerged—both carrying the same resemblance to the younger lady.

All of them looked furious.

The air shifted instantly.

Heavy.

Dangerous.

Mrs. Wilson began walking toward them with sharp, determined steps.

Becca froze.

Her heartbeat quickened.

Something was about to go very wrong.

"Get in the car," Alex said quietly, his tone firm.

No hesitation.

No explanation.

Just command.

Becca didn't argue.

She quickly got into the car.

And as the door shut behind her, she knew—

The real storm was just beginning.