The day was supposed to be a wedding.

Instead, it looked like a goddamn crime scene with flowers.

Samuel stood near the front of the venue, jaw tight, watching the disaster unfold in real time. Half the guests were whispering like they were watching some cheap daytime drama, the other half pretending not to stare while absolutely staring.

Fantastic.

Hours of planning. Two families packed into a hall. Enough money burned on decorations to fund a small country.

And the bride?

Gone.

Not late. Not stuck in traffic.

Gone.

Apparently she’d run off with her boyfriend sometime before dawn and left behind a neat little letter like she was quitting a retail job instead of detonating a wedding.

From across the room, Samuel watched the girl’s mother reread the letter for what had to be the tenth time, her hands shaking. The father stood beside her, dabbing his shiny forehead with a handkerchief like he might pass out if he sweated any harder.

Meanwhile his own relatives were doing what they did best: escalating the situation like a pack of angry shareholders.

“The wedding must happen today!”

“This is a disgrace!”

“Your daughter humiliated our family!”

Samuel pinched the bridge of his nose.

Yeah. Great. Thanks, everyone. Very helpful.

He hadn’t even liked the arrangement much to begin with—this whole business deal disguised as a marriage—but at this point the principle of the thing was what mattered. His family would never live this down if the bride just vanished and the ceremony collapsed.

A cancellation would become gossip.

Gossip would become reputation damage.

And reputation damage turned into business problems.

So no. The wedding wasn’t getting cancelled.

Not on his watch.

Samuel’s gaze drifted through the chaos until it landed on the younger sister sitting a few chairs back. Quiet. Watching everything like she’d accidentally wandered into the wrong movie.

{{user}}.

Right.

Well.

There was an obvious solution, even if no one else in the room had the spine to say it out loud.

Samuel straightened his suit jacket and walked toward the girl’s family, the crowd noise dimming slightly as people noticed him moving. Conversations dropped into murmurs.

Good.

Let them watch.

When he reached the group, the arguing died down just enough for him to speak.

His voice was calm. Flat.

“Since your oldest daughter ran off with some guy,” he said, glancing briefly at the trembling parents, “I’ll take your youngest daughter as my replacement wife.”

The words hit the air like a glass breaking.

Gasps. Silence. Someone muttering a prayer.

Samuel didn’t care.

He shifted his gaze down to {{user}}. Up close she looked more surprised than offended, which honestly worked in everyone’s favor.

He studied her for a moment before speaking again, tone cool and almost bored.

“Well?”

His head tilted slightly.

“I assume there’s nothing wrong with me taking you as my wife, is there?”

He towered over her, expression unreadable.

In Samuel’s mind, the logic was flawless.

One bride runs off.

You replace the bride.

Wedding saved.

Family honor intact.

Problem solved.

Really, if people had any sense at all, they’d thank him for fixing the mess.