The bride who vanished

Chapter 2: the ruthless billionaire

The first rule everyone knew about Tom wood was simple: He did not lose.

The second rule was less spoken, but far more unsettling. People who stood in his way did not remain where they were.

Jane heard both before the night was over.

By the time the applause faded and the champagne started flowing again, the announcement had already taken on a life of its own.

“Strategic brilliance,” someone whispered behind her.

“Pugasol saved at the last minute.”

“Wood always gets what he wants.”

Jane stood at the center of it all, smiling like she’d been carved into the moment, accepting congratulations from people who didn’t care whether she was happy, only that the deal made sense. Her hand ached from being shaken. Her cheeks burned from holding a smile that wasn’t real. And through it all, she could feel him. Not touching her. Not speaking. Just… there. A presence that didn’t demand attention—because it already owned it.

“Congratulations, my dear,” a woman in diamonds said, squeezing Jane’s arm. “You’re a very lucky girl.”

“Am I?”. Jane didn’t wait for her to decide. She slipped away at the first opportunity, weaving through clusters of guests until the noise dulled and the air felt less suffocating. A side corridor opened up ahead, quiet, dimly lit, blissfully empty. She stepped into it and exhaled. For the first time since the announcement, she let her face fall.

Marry him. The words still didn’t feel real. Her father hadn’t asked. Hadn’t warned her. He had decided. Sold it to the room like a victory. A sharp laugh rose in her throat before she could stop it.

“Careful,” a voice said behind her. “Someone might hear that and think you’re unhappy.” Jane froze. Of course. Slowly, she turned.

Yom Wood stood at the entrance of the corridor, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other loosely at his side. Up close, without the buffer of a crowd, he was even more disconcerting, every detail precise, every movement controlled. He hadn’t followed her in a rush. He had taken his time. Like he knew she wouldn’t go far.

“Were you listening?” she asked. His expression didn’t change.

Jane folded her arms, anchoring herself.

“Then let me save you the trouble of guessing,” she said coolly. “I’m not marrying you.” Silence settled between them. Not shocked. Not offended. Just… quiet.

Tom studied her like she’d presented him with something mildly interesting rather than outright defiance.

“That isn’t your decision to make,” he said. The calm certainty in his voice snapped something in her.

“It is my life,” Jane shot back. “Which means it is absolutely my decision.”

A flicker, barely there, passed through his eyes.

Approval? No. Recognition.

“Your father disagrees,” he said.

“My father,” she replied, her voice tightening despite her effort to stay composed, “does not get to trade me like an asset on his balance sheet.”

Tom took a step closer. Not threatening. Not aggressive. But deliberate enough that Amara felt it. Felt him.

“Everything is an asset,” he said quietly. “The difference is whether it’s being used effectively.”Her stomach turned.

“So that’s what I am to you?” she asked. “A strategic acquisition?”

“If you were only that,” he said, “this would have been simpler.” Jane frowned, thrown off balance for a fraction of a second. “What is that supposed to mean?” He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his gaze shifted briefly, almost imperceptibly taking in her posture, her expression, the tension she couldn’t quite hide. Assessing, Calculating.

“I was expecting a different reaction from you,” he said jokingly.

“Disappointed?” Jane let out a humorless breath. “Give me a minute.”

“Compliant,” he corrected. Her lips pressed together. “Then you’ve clearly been dealing with the wrong women.”

“On the contrary,” Tom said. “I choose very carefully.”

Something about the way he said it sent a chill down her spine “Then you made a mistake,” she said.

For the first time, He smiled. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t kind. It was the kind of smile that came from certainty, not amusement.

“I don’t make mistakes either.” Jane’s pulse quickened, but she pushed through it.

“Let me make this very clear,” she said, each word precise. “Whatever arrangement you made with my father, it doesn’t include my consent. And without that, it doesn’t happen.”

Tom regarded her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he stepped closer again, close enough now that she could feel the quiet intensity of him, the way his presence seemed to narrow the world down to just the two of them.

“You think consent is the variable that determines outcomes,” he said softly.

Jane’s jaw tightened. “It should be.” His gaze didn’t waver.

“But it isn’t. You don’t know me,” she said.

“No,” Tom agreed. “But I know patterns.”

“And you think I’m one of them?” She added.

“I think you’re currently underestimating the situation you’re in.” He said.

Anger flared, sharp and bright.

“I think you’re used to people folding the moment you walk into a room.” Jane shot back.

“And you won’t.” It wasn’t a question. She lifted her chin.

“No.” Another pause. Measured.

Then, “That makes this more interesting.” Jane blinked. “I’m not here to entertain you.”

“No,” Tom said. “You’re here because your father’s company is weeks away from collapse.” The words hit like a slap. She stilled. “That’s not…” she started.

“It is,” he cut in, not unkindly, but without room for denial. “Debt, mismanaged expansions, leveraged risks that didn’t pay off. He’s been trying to contain it quietly.”

Jane’s mind raced. He couldn’t…, Her father wouldn’t…,

“Why are you telling me this?” she demanded.

“Because,” Tom said, “whether you accept it or not, it directly concerns you.” Her chest tightened.

“And the solution is to marry you?” she asked, disbelief lacing every word.

“The solution,” he corrected, “is control. This” his gaze flicked briefly between them…“is the most efficient way to secure it.”

Jane shook her head slowly. “No.” The word was quieter this time but stronger. “I won’t do it.”

Tom watched her for a long moment. Then he nodded once. As if acknowledging a move in a game. “You will try not to,” he said. Something about that phrasing…Not *you will.* *You will try not to.*… made her skin prickle.

“I’m not playing games with you,” she said.

“You already are.” Silence stretched again. Heavy. Unspoken things pressing at the edges. Jane forced herself to breathe evenly.

“Then let me save you time,” she said. “Whatever you’re expecting from this arrangement, obedience, cooperation, submission, you’re not going to get it from me.”

Tom’s gaze held hers, unwavering.

“We’ll see.” It wasn’t a threat. It was worse. It was a promise.

Footsteps echoed faintly from the ballroom, breaking the moment. Tom stepped back, the distance between them returning as smoothly as it had disappeared.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Jane,” he said.

Like nothing had happened. Like everything had already been decided and walked away without waiting for a response. Jane stood there, her pulse still racing, her thoughts colliding into something sharp and unyielding. He was wrong. He had to be. Because whatever power he thought he had, whatever control he believed this arrangement gave him, He was about to learn something very important. Jane Pugasol did not belong to anyone. And if escaping him was what it took to prove it… Then that was exactly what she would do.