He left her at the altar for the ninth time. So she married his worst enemy. Nine years ago, Harriet was just the housekeeper’s daughter, secretly loving the untouchable Shawn Kirby from afar. When a DNA test revealed Harriet was the true billionaire heiress of the family, her dream came true: she became Shawn's official fiancée. But a birthright couldn't buy his heart. For nearly a decade, Harriet gave him her absolute devotion, only to be constantly pushed aside for her fake-heiress sister. The breaking point came at the steps of City Hall. When Shawn stood her up for the ninth time, something inside Harriet snapped. Without a single tear, she turned around and married the first man she saw. When Shawn finally realizes what he threw away, it’s too late. Cornering Harriet at a high-society gala, he drops his pride and begs, "Divorce him, Harriet. Please. We can start over." But before he can touch her, a dangerous shadow falls over them. Weston—the ruthless tycoon who has spent his life tearing down Shawn's business empire—pulls Harriet possessively against his chest. "You're a little late, Kirby," Weston sneers, a lethal glint in his eyes. "My wife doesn't take charity from her exes anymore. And if you think you can steal her from me? You’re welcome to try."

Chapter 1Snow falls heavily outside the Riverdale city hall, blanketing the stone steps in a relentless layer of frost. Harriet has been waiting since nine in the morning. Three hours in the biting cold, her body practically numb, and there is still no sign of her fiancé, Shawn Kirby. Couples walk in and out, their faces glowing with radiant smiles that only make her solitude feel even more suffocating. By noon, the blizzard thickens. Finally, Shawn calls."Sorry, Harriet," he says, his tone casually dismissive. "Something came up on my end. Let's get the marriage license another day."It is said with such terrifying ease. A stray snowflake drifts under the awning and lands against Harriet’s cheek, melting like a freezing tear that chills her to the bone. "You're with Janelle, aren't you?"This isn't the first time he has bailed. Without fail, every single time, it is because of Janelle."Janelle took a bad fall off the stage yesterday. It's serious," Shawn admits openly, completely unapologetic.At seventeen, a DNA test shattered Harriet Jackson's world. Raised as the housekeeper's daughter, she was suddenly revealed to be the true biological heiress of the Ashburn family. With her birthright came the long-standing engagement to Shawn. But Shawn's heart always belonged to the bright, privileged Janelle, and the Ashburn parents heavily favored the fake daughter they had meticulously groomed. Despite sharing their bloodline, Harriet's life barely changed from her impoverished upbringing.Standing in the snow for three hours, Harriet's fingers ache with cold. Gripping the phone becomes a physical struggle. When she speaks, her throat is painfully dry. "Is it really just a coincidence?""What is that supposed to mean, Harriet?" Shawn's voice darkens. "I'm still going to marry you. You already took Janelle's identity and her parents. Do you really have to rush this marriage today?"Took? Those things were hers to begin with. True love really does blind a person, twisting the return of a rightful identity into an act of theft. A bitter, helpless smile touches her lips."Shawn, do you even remember how many times you've broken a promise to me?" She doesn't wait for his answer. "Nine times. The first time, Janelle went missing on a hike, and you went looking for her. The second time, she was cornered by thugs, and you rushed to her rescue. Then the third time..."Every single excuse revolves around Janelle. Anyone with eyes can see these stunts are just Janelle's way of sabotaging their wedding. Shawn is a brilliant financial shark. He dominated the stock market by twenty and runs his business with ruthless precision. There is no way he doesn't see through a young woman's manipulative games. He sees everything. At the end of the day, in a choice between the two of them, Harriet isn't even an option.Annoyed that she hit a nerve, Shawn sighs. "Janelle is your sister. Do you expect me to just abandon her? Look, I promise there won't be a tenth time. It's freezing out. I'll have the driver take you home.""There won't be a tenth time," Harriet says, her voice eerily calm. The snow falls in thick, beautiful white sheets. It is freezing, but the view is stunning. She shouldn't waste another second of her life waiting for a man who doesn't love her. "I'm not marrying you, Shawn. This is where it ends. I'm giving you back to Janelle."A harsh winter gust sweeps past, lifting Harriet’s frost-tipped hair. A long, heavy silence hangs on the other end of the line. Finally, a scoff breaks the quiet."You know damn well I don't respond to ultimatums, Harriet."She knows. It is precisely because she understands his ruthless nature that she has never once used their relationship as a bargaining chip. But now that the words are out, she means them. Standing in the frozen wasteland, Harriet thinks about the past nine years. Following him abroad, supporting his studies, entering the finance industry, and helping him build his empire from the ground up. Nine years. From seventeen to twenty-five, she poured everything into earning his love. And in the end, she lost. Completely.The phone call continues. A delicate, weak voice echoes faintly through the receiver. "Shawn? Is that my sister?""No. Just a work call," Shawn says softly. Not wanting to upset Janelle, he lies without a second thought. Then, he lowers his voice, turning icy as he addresses Harriet. "I know you're upset. We'll talk about this when I get back...""Why are you still on the phone? I want an apple," Janelle whines in the background.Without hesitation, Shawn cuts Harriet off. "Janelle needs me. We're done talking."The line goes dead. Harriet stands motionless, listening to the dial tone. She stands there so long that a clerk from city hall steps out, offering a sympathetic look."Do you want to wait inside, miss? We have heating and hot coffee. I know you've been here a few times. Your husband-to-be must be swamped with work. Try to cut him some slack—men are just like that."It would be hard not to be a familiar face after nine attempts to get a marriage license. Harriet takes a deep breath of the frigid air, her resolve hardening. If Shawn refuses to show up, she will simply find a new husband. She is never coming back to this place for a tenth time.Backing out of her recent calls, she scrolls through her contacts until she lands on Weston Boyle's name. He is Shawn's absolute worst enemy. The two have clashed since their early startup days, constantly fighting over the same bids. Rumor has it that Weston is the illegitimate son of the Boyle family, raised out in the unforgiving streets. But his talent is undeniable. He doubled the profits of the very first company the family gave him, securing his seat at the table. Now, he practically runs the entire Boyle empire.Just days ago, she heard Shawn and his friends joking about Weston. The Boyle family had been desperately trying to set him up, parading Riverdale's finest socialites in front of him. None succeeded. A man with his high standards and ruthless vision shouldn't be easy to please.But seven months ago, when Harriet accompanied Shawn to a business summit, she ran into Weston in a quiet corridor. His gaze was intense and predatory as he approached her. "Ms. Jackson," he said with a knowing smirk, "I have a feeling you and Shawn aren't going to last. It just so happens I need a presentable wife. When the two of you inevitably break up, you should consider me."Harriet had never met someone so brazen. She threw her glass of water right in his striking face, leaving him in a humiliated mess.Reaching out to him now seems completely inappropriate. As she debates it, her numb finger slips and taps the call button. Before she can panic and hang up, the call connects."Hello. Who is this?" his deep, measured voice comes through the speaker.Since the call is already live, she figures she has nothing to lose. "It's me. Harriet."A brief silence follows. "Do you need something? If you're inviting me to your wedding, don't bother. I have no interest in watching my rival play happy family.""No," she replies firmly, taking a few seconds to steady her racing heart. "I wanted to ask... does your offer from seven months ago still stand?""Why? Is Shawn dead?"The dark humor stings, but it is deeply ironic. She loved Shawn to the point of losing her own identity; it really does feel like it would take his death for her to choose someone else."We broke up. If your offer is still on the table, I'd like to get our marriage license today."The line falls dead silent. The heavy quiet stretches on. Assuming his answer is no, Harriet feels a wave of calm resignation. "I was out of line. I'm sorry to bother you.""Where are you?""...Excuse me?"His voice slices through the air, carrying an undeniable, commanding authority. "Harriet. Give me your location."Weston arrives incredibly fast. Harriet gave Shawn nine years and nine chances to meet her at this exact spot, and he never made it once. Yet Weston—a man she has met less than three times—arrives in under thirty minutes. Ultimately, Shawn wasn't incapable of making the drive; he just never wanted to. But from this day forward, Harriet is done waiting in the cold.A sleek car pulls up to the curb. Weston steps out from the driver’s seat, popping open a black umbrella. He wears a meticulously tailored gray suit layered under a dark overcoat. His eyes mirror the winter frost, but as he catches sight of her, his expression softens. Harriet notes, objectively, that the man is strikingly handsome.Their very first meeting took place in an upscale café. She had gone to beg him for mercy over a bid Shawn had lost. Weston sat across from her, his long fingers casually tracing the rim of his coffee cup. He was the picture of relaxed dominance, his flawlessly sculpted face drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. Amidst the elegant piano music, he looked like a prince from a fairy tale, but his words cut like glass."Ms. Jackson," he said, "I actually envy Shawn. Losing a business deal means nothing; there's always more money to be made. But he has you—a woman willing to swallow her pride and beg, just to make his life a fraction easier. Your loyalty is worth more than any contract. Shawn is too blind to see the most valuable thing right in front of him, so why should you expect him to win in business? I can back off this time, but next time, are you going to come beg for him again?"Harriet shakes herself from the memory as Weston steps up to her. He closes his umbrella and checks his watch. "Seventeen minutes. We're right on schedule. Let's go.""Oh. Right."The registration process is remarkably fast. Within moments, she holds the marriage agreement in her hands. Seeing her name perfectly aligned next to Weston’s feels entirely surreal. She is actually married. And not to Shawn, but to his absolute worst enemy. It is absurd. Far more absurd than Shawn standing her up nine times. Yet here she is, a legally married woman.A hint of amusement colors Weston's deep voice as he leans in. "Staring at the certificate that hard? Are you worried I scammed you into this?""No, that's not..." Harriet starts to explain, but the words die in her throat when she meets his teasing gaze.Weston doesn't press the issue. He opens the black umbrella, holding it protectively over her head. With his free hand, he pulls out two items he clearly prepared in advance: a house key and a sleek black credit card. The umbrella forces them close together. At this angle, Harriet has a clear view of the sharp line of his jaw. Broad-shouldered and lean, he towers over her, his imposing presence entirely shielding her from the wind. With looks and status like his, he is the undisputed prize of Riverdale's high society. By marrying him, Harriet definitely got the better end of the deal."What is this...?""The key to our home and my card," Weston says, his brow furrowing slightly. "We're married, which means we live together. You're my wife, which means you spend my money. Is there a problem with that?""...No." It all makes perfect logical sense. It is just happening so fast."Take the next couple of days to pack. Once you're ready, I'll have my assistant move your things over.""That's fine, I can manage it myself."Weston pauses. The air around him seems to drop a few degrees. "Harriet, I am not Shawn. My wife doesn't have to carry her own burdens."The temperature hasn't risen, and the snow continues to fall. Yet, somehow, Harriet feels a lingering warmth pushing the cold away."Come on. Get in the car. I'll take you home."As Weston heads down the steps, Harriet hesitates. If he drops her off right now, the Ashburn family will definitely see them.Chapter 2Snow falls heavily outside the Riverdale city hall, blanketing the stone steps in a relentless layer of frost. Harriet has been waiting since nine in the morning. Three hours in the biting cold, her body practically numb, and there is still no sign of her fiancé, Shawn Kirby. Couples walk in and out, their faces glowing with radiant smiles that only make her solitude feel even more suffocating. By noon, the blizzard thickens. Finally, Shawn calls."Sorry, Harriet," he says, his tone casually dismissive. "Something came up on my end. Let's get the marriage license another day."It is said with such terrifying ease. A stray snowflake drifts under the awning and lands against Harriet’s cheek, melting like a freezing tear that chills her to the bone. "You're with Janelle, aren't you?"This isn't the first time he has bailed. Without fail, every single time, it is because of Janelle."Janelle took a bad fall off the stage yesterday. It's serious," Shawn admits openly, completely unapologetic.At seventeen, a DNA test shattered Harriet Jackson's world. Raised as the housekeeper's daughter, she was suddenly revealed to be the true biological heiress of the Ashburn family. With her birthright came the long-standing engagement to Shawn. But Shawn's heart always belonged to the bright, privileged Janelle, and the Ashburn parents heavily favored the fake daughter they had meticulously groomed. Despite sharing their bloodline, Harriet's life barely changed from her impoverished upbringing.Standing in the snow for three hours, Harriet's fingers ache with cold. Gripping the phone becomes a physical struggle. When she speaks, her throat is painfully dry. "Is it really just a coincidence?""What is that supposed to mean, Harriet?" Shawn's voice darkens. "I'm still going to marry you. You already took Janelle's identity and her parents. Do you really have to rush this marriage today?"Took? Those things were hers to begin with. True love really does blind a person, twisting the return of a rightful identity into an act of theft. A bitter, helpless smile touches her lips."Shawn, do you even remember how many times you've broken a promise to me?" She doesn't wait for his answer. "Nine times. The first time, Janelle went missing on a hike, and you went looking for her. The second time, she was cornered by thugs, and you rushed to her rescue. Then the third time..."Every single excuse revolves around Janelle. Anyone with eyes can see these stunts are just Janelle's way of sabotaging their wedding. Shawn is a brilliant financial shark. He dominated the stock market by twenty and runs his business with ruthless precision. There is no way he doesn't see through a young woman's manipulative games. He sees everything. At the end of the day, in a choice between the two of them, Harriet isn't even an option.Annoyed that she hit a nerve, Shawn sighs. "Janelle is your sister. Do you expect me to just abandon her? Look, I promise there won't be a tenth time. It's freezing out. I'll have the driver take you home.""There won't be a tenth time," Harriet says, her voice eerily calm. The snow falls in thick, beautiful white sheets. It is freezing, but the view is stunning. She shouldn't waste another second of her life waiting for a man who doesn't love her. "I'm not marrying you, Shawn. This is where it ends. I'm giving you back to Janelle."A harsh winter gust sweeps past, lifting Harriet’s frost-tipped hair. A long, heavy silence hangs on the other end of the line. Finally, a scoff breaks the quiet."You know damn well I don't respond to ultimatums, Harriet."She knows. It is precisely because she understands his ruthless nature that she has never once used their relationship as a bargaining chip. But now that the words are out, she means them. Standing in the frozen wasteland, Harriet thinks about the past nine years. Following him abroad, supporting his studies, entering the finance industry, and helping him build his empire from the ground up. Nine years. From seventeen to twenty-five, she poured everything into earning his love. And in the end, she lost. Completely.The phone call continues. A delicate, weak voice echoes faintly through the receiver. "Shawn? Is that my sister?""No. Just a work call," Shawn says softly. Not wanting to upset Janelle, he lies without a second thought. Then, he lowers his voice, turning icy as he addresses Harriet. "I know you're upset. We'll talk about this when I get back...""Why are you still on the phone? I want an apple," Janelle whines in the background.Without hesitation, Shawn cuts Harriet off. "Janelle needs me. We're done talking."The line goes dead. Harriet stands motionless, listening to the dial tone. She stands there so long that a clerk from city hall steps out, offering a sympathetic look."Do you want to wait inside, miss? We have heating and hot coffee. I know you've been here a few times. Your husband-to-be must be swamped with work. Try to cut him some slack—men are just like that."It would be hard not to be a familiar face after nine attempts to get a marriage license. Harriet takes a deep breath of the frigid air, her resolve hardening. If Shawn refuses to show up, she will simply find a new husband. She is never coming back to this place for a tenth time.Backing out of her recent calls, she scrolls through her contacts until she lands on Weston Boyle's name. He is Shawn's absolute worst enemy. The two have clashed since their early startup days, constantly fighting over the same bids. Rumor has it that Weston is the illegitimate son of the Boyle family, raised out in the unforgiving streets. But his talent is undeniable. He doubled the profits of the very first company the family gave him, securing his seat at the table. Now, he practically runs the entire Boyle empire.Just days ago, she heard Shawn and his friends joking about Weston. The Boyle family had been desperately trying to set him up, parading Riverdale's finest socialites in front of him. None succeeded. A man with his high standards and ruthless vision shouldn't be easy to please.But seven months ago, when Harriet accompanied Shawn to a business summit, she ran into Weston in a quiet corridor. His gaze was intense and predatory as he approached her. "Ms. Jackson," he said with a knowing smirk, "I have a feeling you and Shawn aren't going to last. It just so happens I need a presentable wife. When the two of you inevitably break up, you should consider me."Harriet had never met someone so brazen. She threw her glass of water right in his striking face, leaving him in a humiliated mess.Reaching out to him now seems completely inappropriate. As she debates it, her numb finger slips and taps the call button. Before she can panic and hang up, the call connects."Hello. Who is this?" his deep, measured voice comes through the speaker.Since the call is already live, she figures she has nothing to lose. "It's me. Harriet."A brief silence follows. "Do you need something? If you're inviting me to your wedding, don't bother. I have no interest in watching my rival play happy family.""No," she replies firmly, taking a few seconds to steady her racing heart. "I wanted to ask... does your offer from seven months ago still stand?""Why? Is Shawn dead?"The dark humor stings, but it is deeply ironic. She loved Shawn to the point of losing her own identity; it really does feel like it would take his death for her to choose someone else."We broke up. If your offer is still on the table, I'd like to get our marriage license today."The line falls dead silent. The heavy quiet stretches on. Assuming his answer is no, Harriet feels a wave of calm resignation. "I was out of line. I'm sorry to bother you.""Where are you?""...Excuse me?"His voice slices through the air, carrying an undeniable, commanding authority. "Harriet. Give me your location."Weston arrives incredibly fast. Harriet gave Shawn nine years and nine chances to meet her at this exact spot, and he never made it once. Yet Weston—a man she has met less than three times—arrives in under thirty minutes. Ultimately, Shawn wasn't incapable of making the drive; he just never wanted to. But from this day forward, Harriet is done waiting in the cold.A sleek car pulls up to the curb. Weston steps out from the driver’s seat, popping open a black umbrella. He wears a meticulously tailored gray suit layered under a dark overcoat. His eyes mirror the winter frost, but as he catches sight of her, his expression softens. Harriet notes, objectively, that the man is strikingly handsome.Their very first meeting took place in an upscale café. She had gone to beg him for mercy over a bid Shawn had lost. Weston sat across from her, his long fingers casually tracing the rim of his coffee cup. He was the picture of relaxed dominance, his flawlessly sculpted face drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. Amidst the elegant piano music, he looked like a prince from a fairy tale, but his words cut like glass."Ms. Jackson," he said, "I actually envy Shawn. Losing a business deal means nothing; there's always more money to be made. But he has you—a woman willing to swallow her pride and beg, just to make his life a fraction easier. Your loyalty is worth more than any contract. Shawn is too blind to see the most valuable thing right in front of him, so why should you expect him to win in business? I can back off this time, but next time, are you going to come beg for him again?"Harriet shakes herself from the memory as Weston steps up to her. He closes his umbrella and checks his watch. "Seventeen minutes. We're right on schedule. Let's go.""Oh. Right."The registration process is remarkably fast. Within moments, she holds the marriage agreement in her hands. Seeing her name perfectly aligned next to Weston’s feels entirely surreal. She is actually married. And not to Shawn, but to his absolute worst enemy. It is absurd. Far more absurd than Shawn standing her up nine times. Yet here she is, a legally married woman.A hint of amusement colors Weston's deep voice as he leans in. "Staring at the certificate that hard? Are you worried I scammed you into this?""No, that's not..." Harriet starts to explain, but the words die in her throat when she meets his teasing gaze.Weston doesn't press the issue. He opens the black umbrella, holding it protectively over her head. With his free hand, he pulls out two items he clearly prepared in advance: a house key and a sleek black credit card. The umbrella forces them close together. At this angle, Harriet has a clear view of the sharp line of his jaw. Broad-shouldered and lean, he towers over her, his imposing presence entirely shielding her from the wind. With looks and status like his, he is the undisputed prize of Riverdale's high society. By marrying him, Harriet definitely got the better end of the deal."What is this...?""The key to our home and my card," Weston says, his brow furrowing slightly. "We're married, which means we live together. You're my wife, which means you spend my money. Is there a problem with that?""...No." It all makes perfect logical sense. It is just happening so fast."Take the next couple of days to pack. Once you're ready, I'll have my assistant move your things over.""That's fine, I can manage it myself."Weston pauses. The air around him seems to drop a few degrees. "Harriet, I am not Shawn. My wife doesn't have to carry her own burdens."The temperature hasn't risen, and the snow continues to fall. Yet, somehow, Harriet feels a lingering warmth pushing the cold away."Come on. Get in the car. I'll take you home."As Weston heads down the steps, Harriet hesitates. If he drops her off right now, the Ashburn family will definitely see them.Chapter 3Snow falls heavily outside the Riverdale city hall, blanketing the stone steps in a relentless layer of frost. Harriet has been waiting since nine in the morning. Three hours in the biting cold, her body practically numb, and there is still no sign of her fiancé, Shawn Kirby. Couples walk in and out, their faces glowing with radiant smiles that only make her solitude feel even more suffocating. By noon, the blizzard thickens. Finally, Shawn calls."Sorry, Harriet," he says, his tone casually dismissive. "Something came up on my end. Let's get the marriage license another day."It is said with such terrifying ease. A stray snowflake drifts under the awning and lands against Harriet’s cheek, melting like a freezing tear that chills her to the bone. "You're with Janelle, aren't you?"This isn't the first time he has bailed. Without fail, every single time, it is because of Janelle."Janelle took a bad fall off the stage yesterday. It's serious," Shawn admits openly, completely unapologetic.At seventeen, a DNA test shattered Harriet Jackson's world. Raised as the housekeeper's daughter, she was suddenly revealed to be the true biological heiress of the Ashburn family. With her birthright came the long-standing engagement to Shawn. But Shawn's heart always belonged to the bright, privileged Janelle, and the Ashburn parents heavily favored the fake daughter they had meticulously groomed. Despite sharing their bloodline, Harriet's life barely changed from her impoverished upbringing.Standing in the snow for three hours, Harriet's fingers ache with cold. Gripping the phone becomes a physical struggle. When she speaks, her throat is painfully dry. "Is it really just a coincidence?""What is that supposed to mean, Harriet?" Shawn's voice darkens. "I'm still going to marry you. You already took Janelle's identity and her parents. Do you really have to rush this marriage today?"Took? Those things were hers to begin with. True love really does blind a person, twisting the return of a rightful identity into an act of theft. A bitter, helpless smile touches her lips."Shawn, do you even remember how many times you've broken a promise to me?" She doesn't wait for his answer. "Nine times. The first time, Janelle went missing on a hike, and you went looking for her. The second time, she was cornered by thugs, and you rushed to her rescue. Then the third time..."Every single excuse revolves around Janelle. Anyone with eyes can see these stunts are just Janelle's way of sabotaging their wedding. Shawn is a brilliant financial shark. He dominated the stock market by twenty and runs his business with ruthless precision. There is no way he doesn't see through a young woman's manipulative games. He sees everything. At the end of the day, in a choice between the two of them, Harriet isn't even an option.Annoyed that she hit a nerve, Shawn sighs. "Janelle is your sister. Do you expect me to just abandon her? Look, I promise there won't be a tenth time. It's freezing out. I'll have the driver take you home.""There won't be a tenth time," Harriet says, her voice eerily calm. The snow falls in thick, beautiful white sheets. It is freezing, but the view is stunning. She shouldn't waste another second of her life waiting for a man who doesn't love her. "I'm not marrying you, Shawn. This is where it ends. I'm giving you back to Janelle."A harsh winter gust sweeps past, lifting Harriet’s frost-tipped hair. A long, heavy silence hangs on the other end of the line. Finally, a scoff breaks the quiet."You know damn well I don't respond to ultimatums, Harriet."She knows. It is precisely because she understands his ruthless nature that she has never once used their relationship as a bargaining chip. But now that the words are out, she means them. Standing in the frozen wasteland, Harriet thinks about the past nine years. Following him abroad, supporting his studies, entering the finance industry, and helping him build his empire from the ground up. Nine years. From seventeen to twenty-five, she poured everything into earning his love. And in the end, she lost. Completely.The phone call continues. A delicate, weak voice echoes faintly through the receiver. "Shawn? Is that my sister?""No. Just a work call," Shawn says softly. Not wanting to upset Janelle, he lies without a second thought. Then, he lowers his voice, turning icy as he addresses Harriet. "I know you're upset. We'll talk about this when I get back...""Why are you still on the phone? I want an apple," Janelle whines in the background.Without hesitation, Shawn cuts Harriet off. "Janelle needs me. We're done talking."The line goes dead. Harriet stands motionless, listening to the dial tone. She stands there so long that a clerk from city hall steps out, offering a sympathetic look."Do you want to wait inside, miss? We have heating and hot coffee. I know you've been here a few times. Your husband-to-be must be swamped with work. Try to cut him some slack—men are just like that."It would be hard not to be a familiar face after nine attempts to get a marriage license. Harriet takes a deep breath of the frigid air, her resolve hardening. If Shawn refuses to show up, she will simply find a new husband. She is never coming back to this place for a tenth time.Backing out of her recent calls, she scrolls through her contacts until she lands on Weston Boyle's name. He is Shawn's absolute worst enemy. The two have clashed since their early startup days, constantly fighting over the same bids. Rumor has it that Weston is the illegitimate son of the Boyle family, raised out in the unforgiving streets. But his talent is undeniable. He doubled the profits of the very first company the family gave him, securing his seat at the table. Now, he practically runs the entire Boyle empire.Just days ago, she heard Shawn and his friends joking about Weston. The Boyle family had been desperately trying to set him up, parading Riverdale's finest socialites in front of him. None succeeded. A man with his high standards and ruthless vision shouldn't be easy to please.But seven months ago, when Harriet accompanied Shawn to a business summit, she ran into Weston in a quiet corridor. His gaze was intense and predatory as he approached her. "Ms. Jackson," he said with a knowing smirk, "I have a feeling you and Shawn aren't going to last. It just so happens I need a presentable wife. When the two of you inevitably break up, you should consider me."Harriet had never met someone so brazen. She threw her glass of water right in his striking face, leaving him in a humiliated mess.Reaching out to him now seems completely inappropriate. As she debates it, her numb finger slips and taps the call button. Before she can panic and hang up, the call connects."Hello. Who is this?" his deep, measured voice comes through the speaker.Since the call is already live, she figures she has nothing to lose. "It's me. Harriet."A brief silence follows. "Do you need something? If you're inviting me to your wedding, don't bother. I have no interest in watching my rival play happy family.""No," she replies firmly, taking a few seconds to steady her racing heart. "I wanted to ask... does your offer from seven months ago still stand?""Why? Is Shawn dead?"The dark humor stings, but it is deeply ironic. She loved Shawn to the point of losing her own identity; it really does feel like it would take his death for her to choose someone else."We broke up. If your offer is still on the table, I'd like to get our marriage license today."The line falls dead silent. The heavy quiet stretches on. Assuming his answer is no, Harriet feels a wave of calm resignation. "I was out of line. I'm sorry to bother you.""Where are you?""...Excuse me?"His voice slices through the air, carrying an undeniable, commanding authority. "Harriet. Give me your location."Weston arrives incredibly fast. Harriet gave Shawn nine years and nine chances to meet her at this exact spot, and he never made it once. Yet Weston—a man she has met less than three times—arrives in under thirty minutes. Ultimately, Shawn wasn't incapable of making the drive; he just never wanted to. But from this day forward, Harriet is done waiting in the cold.A sleek car pulls up to the curb. Weston steps out from the driver’s seat, popping open a black umbrella. He wears a meticulously tailored gray suit layered under a dark overcoat. His eyes mirror the winter frost, but as he catches sight of her, his expression softens. Harriet notes, objectively, that the man is strikingly handsome.Their very first meeting took place in an upscale café. She had gone to beg him for mercy over a bid Shawn had lost. Weston sat across from her, his long fingers casually tracing the rim of his coffee cup. He was the picture of relaxed dominance, his flawlessly sculpted face drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. Amidst the elegant piano music, he looked like a prince from a fairy tale, but his words cut like glass."Ms. Jackson," he said, "I actually envy Shawn. Losing a business deal means nothing; there's always more money to be made. But he has you—a woman willing to swallow her pride and beg, just to make his life a fraction easier. Your loyalty is worth more than any contract. Shawn is too blind to see the most valuable thing right in front of him, so why should you expect him to win in business? I can back off this time, but next time, are you going to come beg for him again?"Harriet shakes herself from the memory as Weston steps up to her. He closes his umbrella and checks his watch. "Seventeen minutes. We're right on schedule. Let's go.""Oh. Right."The registration process is remarkably fast. Within moments, she holds the marriage agreement in her hands. Seeing her name perfectly aligned next to Weston’s feels entirely surreal. She is actually married. And not to Shawn, but to his absolute worst enemy. It is absurd. Far more absurd than Shawn standing her up nine times. Yet here she is, a legally married woman.A hint of amusement colors Weston's deep voice as he leans in. "Staring at the certificate that hard? Are you worried I scammed you into this?""No, that's not..." Harriet starts to explain, but the words die in her throat when she meets his teasing gaze.Weston doesn't press the issue. He opens the black umbrella, holding it protectively over her head. With his free hand, he pulls out two items he clearly prepared in advance: a house key and a sleek black credit card. The umbrella forces them close together. At this angle, Harriet has a clear view of the sharp line of his jaw. Broad-shouldered and lean, he towers over her, his imposing presence entirely shielding her from the wind. With looks and status like his, he is the undisputed prize of Riverdale's high society. By marrying him, Harriet definitely got the better end of the deal."What is this...?""The key to our home and my card," Weston says, his brow furrowing slightly. "We're married, which means we live together. You're my wife, which means you spend my money. Is there a problem with that?""...No." It all makes perfect logical sense. It is just happening so fast."Take the next couple of days to pack. Once you're ready, I'll have my assistant move your things over.""That's fine, I can manage it myself."Weston pauses. The air around him seems to drop a few degrees. "Harriet, I am not Shawn. My wife doesn't have to carry her own burdens."The temperature hasn't risen, and the snow continues to fall. Yet, somehow, Harriet feels a lingering warmth pushing the cold away."Come on. Get in the car. I'll take you home."As Weston heads down the steps, Harriet hesitates. If he drops her off right now, the Ashburn family will definitely see them.