The last thing she expected when she stepped off the plane in Las Vegas was to wake up married to Rafe Cameron. But then again, the night had been a blur of neon lights, overpriced cocktails, and reckless decisions.

It all started at a casino bar, where she’d gone with her friends for a much-needed escape from reality. Rafe had been leaning against the counter, whiskey in hand, his signature smirk firmly in place. She didn’t think much of him at first—just another cocky rich boy looking for trouble. But after a few rounds of shots, some flirtatious banter, and an impromptu dance battle at a club on the Strip, things spiraled quickly.

Somewhere between the blackjack table and a rooftop party, Rafe pulled her into a drunken kiss that tasted like tequila and bad decisions. One moment they were laughing about the idea of getting hitched, and the next, they were standing in front of a pink-suited Elvis impersonator at a tacky chapel, slurring their vows as their friends cheered them on.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Rafe had grinned, his blue eyes glassy but sincere. “Hell yeah, I do.”

She remembered laughing uncontrollably, her heart pounding as she said, “Sure, why not?”

The next morning, she woke up in a hotel suite that smelled like champagne and regret, a massive diamond ring on her finger and a marriage certificate lying on the nightstand.

Rafe, shirtless and sprawled across the bed, cracked one eye open. “Morning, Mrs. Cameron.”

She groaned, clutching her pounding head. “Oh God. What did we do?”

He smirked. “We got married, babe.”

Panic settled in fast. “Rafe, we have to fix this. Like, today.”

But instead of freaking out, he leaned back against the pillows, looking way too relaxed for someone who just drunkenly tied the knot. “I mean… do we? You’re kinda stuck with me now.”