Chapter One: The Groom Who Trembled
(Intro: The CEO, The Student, The Sentence)
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Kairo Laurent didn't fall in love. He made decisions.
At twenty-nine, he had already devoured every boardroom he walked into.
He was the kind of man people didn't argue with—not because he yelled, but because he never needed to.
He just looked at you. One cold stare was enough.
Those eyes—obsidian sharp, framed by dark lashes and an always-perfect three-piece suit—never showed warmth, not even to the man he was said to be in love with.
Lucien Vale, his long-time boyfriend, was the opposite of him in every way.
Reckless. Loud. Glamorous.
He hung off Kairo's arm like a trophy and smiled like he owned him.
But Lucien didn't own Kairo.
No one did.
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Except his father.
"Sit down, Kairo," the old man croaked from his hospital bed, one hand trembling as he reached for the oxygen switch.
Kairo didn't sit. "Just tell me what this is about."
"I'm dying," his father said flatly. "So let's skip the pleasantries."
Kairo blinked once. Then nodded. "Go on."
"You'll marry within two weeks. It's in the new inheritance clause. The board approved it."
Kairo laughed, humorless. "You added a marriage clause to the family company's inheritance? Are you senile?"
His father's smile was weak, but his tone cut like glass.
"No, son. Just tired of you treating this company like your playground. The press has started talking about Lucien's scandals again. You know how this works—one crack in your image, and the board gets skittish."
"I don't care about the board," Kairo replied coolly.
"You should. Or you'll lose Laurent Global. And everything attached to it."
Kairo's lips curled. "So I just pick someone? A respectable man to stand beside me? Smile for the cameras?"
"You don't pick him," his father said. "I already did."
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His name was Elián Reyes.
Twenty-one. Literature student. Timid. Raised by a desperate single mother in a crumbling part of the city.
Kairo looked at the file once, flicking through pages like they were beneath him.
"Sweet. Well-mannered. Top grades. Quiet. No scandals," the report read.
Kairo sighed.
"Tell me he's at least attractive."
His father paused. "He's... delicate. Innocent. Good for your image."
Kairo's jaw tightened.
"I'm not marrying a porcelain doll."
"You're marrying him if you want this company," his father rasped. "Sign the contract. Or walk out."
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Meanwhile... across the city…
Elián Reyes stacked used books in the back of the library, his hands trembling from how hard he was trying not to cry.
He'd just gotten the news.
A contract. A marriage. To someone he hadn't even met.
His mother's words still rang in his ears.
> "We have nothing left, Elián. This marriage is a blessing. You'll be taken care of. You won't have to starve anymore. Just say yes."
And Elián did say yes.
Because he always said yes.
Because saying no never saved him—not from the debt collectors, or the shame, or the hunger.
But now, he sat on his bed in a shared apartment with one broken fan and a stained window, staring at the photo of his future husband.
Kairo Laurent.
A face like sin.
Eyes like frost.
A man who probably didn't even know how to say the word "gentle."
"I'm going to marry him," Elián whispered, fingers curled tightly around the photograph. "He doesn't want me… and I'm still going to marry him."
He felt sick. But he smiled anyway. Because that's what good sons do.
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The first time they met, it wasn't romantic. It wasn't even civil.
It was a business dinner hosted by the Laurent family.
Kairo arrived with Lucien on his arm, dressed in sharp wine-red velvet and confidence.
Elián stood alone near the end of the table, hands folded, eyes down.
"Is that him?" Lucien asked with a laugh, pointing toward Elián like he was a museum piece.
Kairo glanced at him once. "He's... smaller than I thought."
Elián's throat closed. "Sorry," he whispered without meaning to.
Lucien smirked. "He apologizes for existing. How precious."
Elián tried to pretend he didn't hear it. But he did. Every word.
He sat through the dinner, barely touching the food, his eyes flicking to Kairo every few minutes. The man didn't look at him again.
Not once.
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Two days later, he signed the marriage contract.
It was thirty pages long.
He read every word.
Especially the ones that hurt.
> Clause 1: This is a contractual marriage. Romantic obligation is not required.
Clause 3: The couple will remain publicly active and photographed together.
Clause 5: Kairo Laurent reserves all control over financial decisions.
Clause 7: Any violation of public behavior must be handled privately.
Clause 10: Divorce is not permitted for one year under any circumstance.
Elián stared at the last line for a long time.
He didn't cry. He just signed it.
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The night before the wedding, Kairo stood in his office, staring out the window, Lucien pressed against his back.
"You're really going through with it," Lucien whispered. "Marrying that little charity case."
Kairo didn't answer.
Lucien kissed his neck.
"I should ruin it," Lucien breathed. "Show up in white. Kiss you in front of the cameras."
Kairo turned to him, eyes dark.
"You'll behave. Or I'll cut you off."
Lucien's eyes flashed. "From the company or from your bed?"
Kairo didn't answer.
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Meanwhile, Elián sat alone in a guest room at the Laurent estate, wearing borrowed pajamas and staring at his hands.
The servants didn't speak to him. The air was cold. The silence louder than any scream.
He curled under the blanket and whispered, "Just be good. Just be good and maybe he won't hate you."
He didn't know that Kairo already did.
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End of Chapter One.
Next Chapter: The Wedding Day
Where Kairo says "I do" like it's a sentence…
…and Elián flinches every time Lucien smiles.
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