"Oh my God, son-in-law! What are you doing here? Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Siska called out, having just stepped off the elevator on the arm of a heavyset middle-aged man with roving eyes.
The moment she spotted Dominic, Siska dropped the man's arm and plastered on the sweetest smile she owned. A smile dripping with deceit.
She hurried toward Dominic, her eyes darting around in search of someone else. "Did you come with Clara? Where's my daughter? You should've given me a heads-up so I could've prepared a proper welcome."
Dominic didn't spare his mother-in-law so much as a glance. He stayed focused on the cigar in his left hand while his right gripped a phone that wouldn't stop buzzing.
"There's no need to trouble yourself welcoming Mr. Dominic, Mrs. Siska. He came alone, of his own accord. He simply felt restless at home," Marco cut in swiftly, intercepting Siska before her fingers could reach the sleeve of his boss's shirt.
Marco knew perfectly well how disgusted Dominic was with this family. A family of parasites who knew nothing but how to bleed people dry and put on an act.
Dominic glanced at his phone screen. Fifty missed calls from Clara.
Normally, he'd have been the first to panic. He would've called back, sent flowers, or bought her a designer handbag just to make Clara stop sulking.
But this morning, staring at that wall of notifications only left him feeling hollow.
The guilt that usually haunted him seemed to evaporate along with the smoke from his cigar.
"Sir, I'm ready." Hurried footsteps echoed from the direction of the emergency stairwell.
Keyla appeared with a pale face, swollen eyes, and clothes that looked slightly rumpled despite her best efforts to straighten them.
She went straight to Dominic, her trembling fingers instinctively reaching for the edge of his shirt sleeve.
At the sight, Siska's jaw nearly hit the floor. A second later, her face flushed a furious crimson.
Her rage detonated on the spot.
"Hey, you little slut! How dare you disrespect my son-in-law?!" Siska shrieked.
Without warning, she lunged forward and seized Keyla's hair, wrenching it back with full force until Keyla's head snapped backward.
"Aagh! Please, Mother!" Keyla screamed, both hands clawing at Siska's sharp nails digging into her scalp.
"Who do you think you are, huh?! How dare you go near Dominic! You're trash, Keyla! Your job last night is done — now get back to your room!" Siska screamed, unhinged. She felt blindsided.
All this time she'd deliberately hidden Keyla in the back quarters so no powerful man would lay eyes on her prized asset — and above all, so her wealthy son-in-law would never learn the girl existed.
"Let go of my future wife!" Dominic's voice cut through the air, freezing Siska where she stood.
Her grip on Keyla's hair slowly loosened, undone by sheer shock.
"What... what did you say? Future wife?" Siska gaped, blinking in disbelief. "You're joking, right, Dom? You already have Clara! You're my son-in-law!"
Dominic extinguished his cigar in the ashtray on the lobby table — slowly, deliberately.
"I don't owe you any explanation, Mrs. Siska. From this moment on, Keyla's ties with your family are severed. I'll be paying off every last cent of her family's debt."
"What?" Siska's shock deepened.
What on earth had Keyla given Dominic that would make the man willing to settle her family's mountain of debt?
Dominic savored the look of devastation on Siska's face. This was a small price for a woman who'd stoop to selling her own stepdaughter.
Watching Siska tremble — caught between the fear of losing her cash cow and the fury of her daughter being replaced — made for a rather entertaining morning.
"Marco, bring the car around. Now," Dominic ordered.
"Yes, sir. Car's on its way!" Marco hustled toward the parking garage, quietly whistling under his breath. This morning's drama is better than prime-time television, he thought.
Dominic straightened his collar, then turned to Keyla, who was still cradling her throbbing head.
In an unexpected gesture, he reached out and smoothed her hair, tucking the strands Siska had torn loose back into place.
"Does it hurt?" he asked, his tone softening a fraction, though his face remained rigid.
Keyla looked up, meeting the cold hawk-like eyes of the man who'd stolen her innocence yet now seemed to be her only protector.
She forced a thin, bitter smile. "No, sir. I'm... I'm used to it," she said.
Dominic went still. Used to it, she said.
Those words flicked something in the deepest corner of his chest. How skilled this girl was at lying in the face of her own pain.
Without another word, Dominic took Keyla's hand, gripped it tight, and led her out of the hotel without a backward glance at Siska — still standing frozen like a fool in the middle of the lobby.
"What is this? My son-in-law is getting married again? To Keyla?" Siska muttered to herself, her breath coming in ragged bursts. "Does Clara know? This is insane! This is absolutely insane!"
With shaking hands, Siska grabbed her phone. She had to reach Clara immediately.
If Dominic truly took Keyla away, the money faucet from her son-in-law could be shut off for good.
"Hello, Clara?! Where are you?! Wake up, you idiot! Your husband... your husband just took your stepsister to make her his second wife!"
*
*
Inside the car as it pulled away, Marco glanced in the rearview mirror at Dominic and Keyla sitting in the back seat.
"Sir," Marco said, breaking the silence. "Just a friendly reminder — after this, are we heading to the boutique or straight to the main residence? I need to calculate how much life expectancy I have left before Miss Clara starts hurling flower vases at all of our heads."
Dominic stared at the road ahead, cold as stone. "Civil registry first, then the boutique. She can't meet my mother dressed in garbage like that."
"Understood, sir. I'll start mentally preparing to serve as your human shield this afternoon," Marco muttered with a resigned sigh.
*
*
The building became the witness to a bond born of compulsion. Before an official and before God, sacred vows were spoken.
"Congratulations. You are now officially husband and wife," the registrar said, closing the folder that had just been signed.
Keyla looked up at the man who was now legally her husband. Her sorrowful eyes glistened with tears, radiating nothing but fear of a future shrouded in darkness.
To her, this marriage was no sanctuary — it was a new prison, erected the morning after her dignity had been torn away.
Dominic held her gaze with those cold, hawk-like eyes, devoid of even the faintest glimmer of love. But when he saw Keyla's tears threatening to fall, he reached for the back of her neck and drew her close until their foreheads touched.
"Don't cry. You're under my control now," Dominic whispered. "I'll take full responsibility — especially if my seed has already taken root inside you. No one will dare touch you again. Including that bastard family of yours."
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