Washington, D.C.

In a coffee shop, Vivienne Quinn sat down across from the man she’d agreed to go on a blind date with. She was astonished to see him in person.

He was unexpectedly handsome. His facial features were impeccable, and even the way he sat exuded an air of regality.

This was Vivienne’s tenth blind date in the past three months. She didn’t have any say in it–if she didn’t go on the dates, her mother would go on a hunger strike and probably die of stubbornness.

The man in front of her now left all nine other men in the dust.

But that wasn’t important. After that many blind dates, Vivienne was determined to get straight to the point. “When do you plan to get married?”

She’d thought about it before she arrived. If her date’s conditions weren’t too extreme, she would go straight to marriage, and skip the entire dating process. Besides, wasn’t the dating part meant to lead to marriage, anyway?

Her mother was threatening suicide every three days. If Vivienne just got married, maybe she’d finally be able to live in peace.

The man looked taken aback, but he smiled. “We’ve just met. Direct, aren’t you?”

His smile was unusually bright, like the sun in March. Vivienne forced herself to keep a neutral expression. “I almost forgot to introduce myself. I’m Vivienne.

“You probably heard about my situation from the person who spoke to you on the dating website. I’m 25 and a freelance worker, and I set up a stall at the night market selling jewelry pieces. I make about 50K a year, and I support both my mother and myself at home. I’ve dated several other men, but I’m currently single and healthy, with no bad habits like smoking.” Then she added, “I’m looking to get married.”

Her mother had forced her to go on this blind date today, and her mother had also found this man on a dating website. She’d figured her mother had just set her up with another weird, unattractive man, or maybe some old guy with a beer belly and a bad attitude. There were a lot of unreliable dating sites, and Vivienne had seen enough to know that it was rare to meet a, well, normal man.

The man seemed to immediately understand Vivienne’s situation after she introduced herself. His lips curled into a smile, and his voice was warm and mellow. “Someone else introduced you to me? You weren’t worried that I was some kind of catfish?”

“Marriage is a gamble.” Vivienne pursed her lips. “This is my tenth blind date. I heard you’re a local who works the Skyreach Group, and your parents passed away. You’re honest, down-to-earth, hardworking, eager to get married… Your last name is Smith…?”

Smith… Vivienne had forgotten the rest. She hadn’t paid much attention to what her mother had been saying about the man before she left.

“Damien Smyth, with a Y,” the man smiled again. “Yes, I work here in Washington, D.C. I’m renting a house, and I drive a Chevrolet. I’ve got a stable income, and I’m also currently single and healthy, with no bad habits.”

Vivienne took out her birth certificate and glanced at Damien. “Mr. Smyth, would you like to come to City Hall with me to get a marriage license? I don’t need any of your money to support myself, so there’s no need for a joint account, or a dowry and wedding. Let’s just keep it simple and get the license.”

Well, the first thing she needed to do was get her mother out of the picture. After that, she could take everything else one step at a time, depending on how well things went.

Most of her friends were already dating or married, and most of them were happy in their relationships. None of it seemed too interesting.

Damien tapped his fingers on the back of his other hand, thoughtful. He thought about what Vivienne had said. Why was this woman, with all her financial considerations, so anxious to get married that she brought her own birth certificate to a blind date?

He was turning 30 this year, and his own family was pressing him to get married.

“Do you mind that I don’t own a house? You may be getting more than you asked for if you marry me.”

“I don’t own a house either,” Vivienne said. “Without parents to help out financially, it’s rare for people to buy their own houses by the age of 30. I understand it. As long as you’re a hard worker with character, nothing’s impossible.”

She was well aware of the housing prices in D.C. Being an ordinary girl with no impressive background or skills of her own, she doubted she could expect too much of her partner.

She kept staring at him. After a long moment, Damien picked up his phone and made a call. “Send my identity documents to City Hall for me.”

An hour later, Vivienne and Damien walked out of City Hall, looking down at the marriage certificate in their hands. Vivienne suddenly realized how crazy she was to have done this.

She’d just married a man an hour after meeting him for the first time.

Damien saw her expression out of the corner of his eye, and the corners of his mouth tilted up. “Bit too late to change your mind.”

Vivienne tucked the certificate away and shook her head firmly. “No regrets, Mr. Smyth. I’m going to work now, and you should too.”

Just like that, we got married, and we’re already splitting up?

Did this woman really come here just to get the wedding certificate and go? Were they just going their separate ways now?

As Vivienne hurriedly turned to leave, Damien spoke up. “You never gave me your number. How can I contact you later?”

Embarrassed, Vivienne pulled out her phone, and the two of them added each other on Whatsapp. Damien sent her his phone number.

“Call me if you need anything.”

This was Damien’s personal number. Vivienne glanced at his phone out of the corner of her eye, noticing that he’d changed her contact name to ‘Wife.’

“Okay.” There was something strange about it all, she thought. She was a married woman now?

She’d thought about just leaving his contact information as his name, but after seeing the word wife, she hesitated. My Mr. Smyth, she typed in.

Damien was about to say he’d walk her back when his phone suddenly rang. The words died on his lips, and he instead said, “Have a safe trip.”

Vivienne nodded and hailed a cab by the side of the road to leave, and Damien watched her go.

Not long after, a Rolls Royce stopped beside him and the man in it rolled down the window.

“I thought you were waiting for me at the cafe. What are you doing here at City Hall?”

The man who’d spoken was the second heir of Skyreach Group, Grayson Smyth.

“Just getting a license.” Damien pulled open the door and got in, his voice low. “Drive me to the airport.”

Grayson started the car, but asked curiously, “What license are you talking about?”

“Marriage license.”

Grayson was so startled by Damien’s casual attitude that he stepped on the gas too soon, and when he realized what he’d done he slammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding an accident.

“Are you serious? You don’t even have a girlfriend. Mom introduced so many women to you, but you didn’t like any of them, and she started to think you liked men.

“Well, our family’s pretty open-minded. Mom will probably find some guys for you to choose from, and I’ll carry on the family name–”

“That’s enough. I’m halving your paycheck for the rest of the year.”

“What?! Don’t!”

“Once you drop me off at the airport, you can help me buy a house. It doesn’t need to be too big–three bedrooms and two bathrooms will do.”

“What are you buying such a small house for? You’ve got all those villas to your name already… Aren’t those enough?”

Damien glanced away. Grayson shut up, but there was no way his brother was serious about the marriage certificate or the house. This had to be a joke. Or did Damien have a secret girlfriend he hadn’t known about?

He couldn’t have just found some random woman on the street to marry.

When Vivienne returned home, her mother picked up a feather duster and smacked her with it as soon as she opened the door. “Vivienne, what have you done? I told you to go on that date. Did you lie to me? Why–”

Before Mrs. Quinn could finish her sentence, Vivienne took out the marriage certificate.

“Mom, I got married.” She opened the paper to show her mother. “You can relax now.”

Mrs. Quinn looked it over, dumbfounded. She tossed away the feather duster and took the paper with trembling hands.

The man in the picture was certainly good-looking. She moved on to the name… Damien? Damien Smyth. She remembered the man on the dating site had spelled his last name as Smith, though. Why was it listed here as Smyth?

Could she have misread it?

“Vivienne, did you get a fake certificate to fool me?” Mrs. Quinn read and reread the paper, unconvinced that this was really authentic.

Vivienne pointed to the stamp. “Mom, it came straight from City Hall. It’s not fake.”

“Well, where is my son-in-law then? Why hasn’t he come to see me?” Mrs. Quinn peered out the door and added, “I only asked you to go on the date and spend time with him. What’s all this for? Did you even get to know him?”

“I thought you asked all about him. He works for Skyreach, which is a good job… he’s about thirty, and he’s good=looking…” Vivienne thought back on the details of her brief time with Damien. “He seems gentle enough. His parents died and he has no other immediate family members, so…”

It was nice to not have to worry about a mother-in-law and sister-in-law, right?

Mrs. Quinn let the news digest slowly. Even as she looked down at the marriage certificate, she wasn’t sure she’d made the right choice by forcing her daughter to get married. She didn’t understand that Vivienne had only rushed into this marriage to please her.

She had cancer, but she’d kept that from Vivienne all this time. After her last relationship had fallen through, Vivienne had refused to go out with another man. Mrs. Quinn was worried that, when she died one day, Vivienne would be alone and have no one to take care of her, no one to help or hold her when things went wrong. That was why she’d been forcing her to go on blind dates, to find a reliable man to settle down and start a family with.

Now that it was settled, though, it was useless to say anything else.

“Vivienne, ask my son-in-law to come meet me here.” Mrs. Quinn sat down heavily. “I know you did this on your own, but he should still measure up to a mother’s standards.”

“Okay, I’ll ask him tomorrow if he can come have dinner here,” Vivienne said. “Mom, I have to go out to the stall now. It’s hot outside and you don’t look too good, so stay home and rest.”

She repeated her instructions a few times more before packing her things and heading out. She’d set up a stall at the Eastern Night Market to sell handmade jewelry, small pieces that she’d made herself.

Her stall was a second-hand van she’d bought, and she set up regularly at 5 o’clock every day and closed at 11 o’clock sharp. When business was good, she would bring in about four thousand dollars a month. In Washington D.C., where every inch of land was worth like gold, this was more than enough for her to survive on.

Vivienne had studied jewelry design, but after an incident a few years ago, no jewelry company was willing to hire her now. So she’d simply started her own business.

When she set up her stall for the night, the market was already bustling. She took a second to send Damien a text message. My mother wants to meet you. Are you free to have dinner tomorrow?

It went through, but there was no response. Business picked up shortly after, and Vivienne forgot all about it.

Tonight was a good night for business. She sold over three hundred dollars worth of jewelry and closed the stall at 11, as usual.

She was sitting in the back of the van counting the day’s earnings when her phone buzzed.

I’m sorry, I’m going to NY for business. I’ll be back in a few days, and we can do dinner then.

Traveling for business was common in company work, Vivienne knew. Okay, she texted back.

She packed up and returned home. Nothing in her life had changed, except for her being officially married now.

Vivienne was extra busy over the next few days, going out early and coming home late, and she all but forgot that she had a husband. One night, she didn’t close the stall down until midnight, and it had started to rain. When she got out, she realized the car had broken down in front of her house.

She would just repair it herself, she decided, climbing out with an umbrella to take a look. It wasn’t the first time the van had had issues, and there were no major problems as far as she could tell.

There were, however, several minor issues. She couldn’t afford to buy a new car, or even another used car, since that would cost over half a year’s income for her. She would have to repair it and keep driving it.

After a preliminary inspection, Vivienne figured that she’d have to send it to the shop again. She was disappointed to realize that it would cost a couple hundred dollars.

She wasn’t far from her apartment, but the rain was getting heavier, and it was late at night. She left the car on the side of the road and opened the trunk, shielding her things with the umbrella.

Vivienne would have to move all the unsold jewelry back since some still needed to be processed, and some were from customers that had given her their pieces for repair. She’d have to put it all back in her house tonight.

The wind was strong, and holding an umbrella and a big box at the same time proved difficult. The rain had soaked her through already, and she knew she probably made an embarrassing sight.

Not far away, Damien watched this scene play out from inside his Rolls Royce, unbeknownst to her. He had just come back from New York.

Vivienne looked thin, about to be blown away by the wind and rain, but she stood firm even as Damien wondered if she’d be overwhelmed by the weather. The wind did, though, take her umbrella, and she looked soaked all over. Still, she shielded her belongings with her body, keeping her head down as she headed toward the apartment building.

Touched, Damien took an umbrella and nodded to his driver. “Go back to the old house.”

Then he got out of the car and hurried to catch up with Vivienne.

Vivienne’s hands were slipping down around the big box she was holding. Just as she was about to drop it, a pair of hands suddenly caught it and a mellow voice sounded overhead.

“I’ll do it.”

Vivienne looked up, and the man in front of her placed the umbrella he was holding in her hand. He took the big box from her and carried it into the apartment lobby.

She came back to her senses a few seconds later and hurried to catch up, then gave the man back his umbrella.

Damien had already looked into Vivienne’s situation, so he’d found out where she lived. He carried the rest of her things to the unit she lived in and placed them at the door.

“Thank you, sir. All my things would’ve gotten damaged if it weren’t for you. Do you want money? Or I can buy you a meal. I don’t know how else to repay you.”

Vivienne was nearsighted and not the best with faces, and she’d forgotten to wear her contact lenses today. She’d also lost her glasses in the rush to get her things out of the car, so she didn’t recognize the man standing in front of her as her new husband.

It’d essentially only been an hour since they last interacted. They’d sent no texts over the last few days.

She was truly grateful for this man’s help. She couldn’t imagine how ruined the jewelry would be right now if it had fallen onto the ground and gotten wet.

Damien looked at Vivienne thoughtfully. “You don’t need to pay me or take me out for a meal. A drink upstairs would be nice, though.”

Immediately wary, Vivienne stared at him, her voice distant now. “I-I have a husband.”

Damien smiled and leaned closer. “I’m glad you haven’t forgotten. But you should probably take a better look at me.”

Vivienne’s eyes widened in surprise as he came closer. “Mr. Smyth… Uh… Smyth…”

She had forgotten his name. He looked helpless. “It’s Damien.”

Vivienne stepped back, flustered. “When did you get back?”

“Just now.” Damien stood up straight to explain. “I was busy, and I forgot to contact you.”

“It’s fine.”

He nodded. “Alright, then.”

That part didn’t matter much. She wasn’t used to being married, obviously, and she’d forgotten about him.

Still embarrassed, Vivienne tried to explain herself. “I-I’m not good with faces. I’m nearsighted, and I left my glasses somewhere, and it was dark, and… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mistake you for someone else.”

Her clothes were soaked, and they clung to her skin, perfectly outlining her figure. Under the brighter lights in the lobby, Damien could see her delicate features–bright eyes, white teeth, and fair skin. She looked like a flower blooming.

Damien lifted an eyebrow and put his own coat around her shoulders. “Go get changed. You might catch a cold.”

Vivienne looked down, her cheeks flushed with shame.

“Thank you.” Vivienne wished she could dig a hole and hide in it. “You’re all wet, too. Do you want to come in and change?”

She regretted asking the minute the words came out of her mouth. Would Damien misunderstand, and think she was implying something else?

Damien stared at her with a half-smile, watching the subtle changes in her expression. This woman blushed so easily.

Vivienne was completely different from the celebrities and models he usually ran into. She reminded him of a little wildflower growing on a cliff, standing strong against the wind and rain–nothing like those flowers growing in greenhouses. She had perseverance, but she had a girlish shyness about her, too.

After a long moment of Damien’s silence, Vivienne opened her mouth to add something else, but he finally spoke. “No, it’s fine.”

Vivienne closed her mouth, embarrassed again at being rejected. Damien hurriedly amended, “It’s too late for this to be appropriate. I haven’t met your parents, so I shouldn’t be so casual. I’ll prepare a gift next time I come by.”

It was inappropriate of her to ask, she thought. The elevator opened behind her, and Damien helped her move the big box inside. “Rest early and start packing.”

“What? Packing for what?”

Damien smiled at her blank look. “You and I are a legal couple now. Don’t you think you should move in with me?”

She’d forgotten about that, too. Married couples had to live together. She hadn’t thought about that when they’d gotten the marriage certificate–that was all she’d planned for, after all.

Would they be sleeping in the same bed? Vivienne’s face formed a thoughtful expression. It wasn’t as if she could refuse Damien’s offer.

She’d been so happy to finally get a marriage certificate. Was she going to back out now?

“Okay.”

When she got back up to her apartment, Mrs. Quinn had already gone to bed. Vivienne made sure her steps were light so she didn’t wake her mother.

That night, she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned until dawn.

Vivienne had a punctual biological clock, though. No matter how late she slept, she would wake up at 7 o’clock in the morning.

She made breakfast for her mother and left the house. The car needed to be taken to the shop for the night market later, and she would have to call her friend to ask for a ride while it was being repaired.

She waited outside the car shop until a red BMW pulled up about half an hour later, with her friend Lainey in the driver’s seat. She waved at Vivienne. “C’mon, get in.”

Vivienne smiled and got in, clicking the seatbelt into place. Lainey already knew where they were heading, and she pulled away from the curb and drove directly to the night market.

“Your crappy old van’s long overdue for a replacement,” Lainey commented. “Why are you fixing it again? Just take my advice and buy a new one.”

“Easy for you to say.” Vivienne laughed. “I don’t have that kind of money. If I fix it up, it’ll still work fine.”

She and Lainey had known each other since high school, and they’d been friends for about ten years now. Lainey ran her own cosmetics store, and business there was good. She was living a good life, all things considered.

“Vivienne, I hate seeing you work so hard with all this talent you have. You’re wasting it on the night market, y’know? You were at the top of our class, honestly. If it wasn’t for…” Lainey came back to her senses soon enough to cut herself off. She glanced at Vivienne, then smiled and changed the subject. “You’re still young, but you hate everybody I’ve introduced you to! Do you want to be a nun soon? What about that guy Hendrix Tennyson… I heard he went back to China and started a law firm there. I hear he’s still single, so I can help you go after him if that’s what you want.”

Vivienne’s heart throbbed at the name, some old memories resurfacing. She shook them away. “I know you want to help, Lainey, but there’s really no need. I forgot about him a long time ago.”

Time healed all wounds, right?

“Why don’t you find a boyfriend yourself, then?” Lainey meant well, but she couldn’t stop talking the second she opened her mouth. “I overheard my aunt saying you were introduced to several guys, but you didn’t like any of them–”

Vivienne interrupted her softly. “Lainey, I’m married.”

“Nothing wrong with that. It’s a natural step in the–” Lainey turned suddenly to stare at Vivienne. “What did you just say? What? You don’t even have a boyfriend, but you–? Did you just pull a husband off the sidewalk?”

This was impossible. The sun might as well have risen in the west if Vivienne was married.

Amused, Vivienne said, “Well, it was a random guy, but my mom found him on a dating site. And yes, I married him.”

Lainey braked so hard that the car fully stopped at the side of the road. “Just like that, you’re married?”

She dragged Vivienne to a convenience store nearby to properly interrogate her and put her hands on her hips sternly. “Don’t you dare lie to me, now. Tell me what’s going on. Who is this guy?”

Vivienne didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “His name’s Damien. He’s local, about 30… He works for Skyreach Group, and his parents aren’t around.”

“Damien?” The name sounded familiar, but the Marlowes weren’t high up enough in social tiers for Lainey to be sure where she’d heard it. They weren’t in the same circles, though–she was sure of that.

She wasn’t entirely wrong. As the president of Skyreach, Damien kept himself rather low-key, never accepting interviews or showing his face on TV.

Lainey didn’t dwell too long on that.

“I’ll bring him to meet you when I get a chance,” Vivienne offered.

“Well, obviously. He married my best friend, so I’ve got to see what he’s all about,” Lainey said. “But, more importantly, does he have a house? How much does he make? Is he going to split it with you? When’s the wedding? Is there any sort of dowry?”

All of Lainey’s questions were practical and realistic, but there were just too many of them. Vivienne shook her head. “I didn’t ask about his income, and I myself don’t have a house or nice car. I can support myself, though, so I don’t need any of his money.

“The wedding’s just a formality. It’s not necessary. We agreed to live together, and that’s pretty much it. We’ll pay bills jointly if necessary.”

Lainey looked shocked. “You’re out of your mind! You don’t want anything out of this marriage? You don’t even have a house. You’re going to have to work so hard in the future! You’ll have your children’s education to think about… What will you do without a house and car? Joint finances… well, how far can that get you in this life?”