Chapter 3

My heart hammered against my ribs.

Sean fell silent for a long time.

So long that I stole another glance at my phone. Mandy had sent a barrage of texts:

"Did you handle it or not? If you can't do it, I'll just call the matchmaker myself."

"Whatever, forget it. Don't bother. I'll talk to the matchmaker directly. Send me back my $300."

Looking at the words "Send me back my $300," I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

Three hundred bucks?

Between three hundred bucks and thirty billion dollars, which one was I supposed to choose? It was a no-brainer.

I flipped my phone over once more, ignoring her texts completely.

"Sean, do you think I'm crazy?"

"A little," he admitted.

"Do you hate me, though?"

He considered it. "No."

"Then that's all that matters," I said. "In modern dating, finding two people who don't secretly despise each other is already a miracle. We shouldn't let it slip away."

Hearing that, the corner of Sean's mouth curved upward.

It wasn't a mocking smirk this time. It was the kind of smile someone gave when they found you genuinely intriguing.

"You're amusing," he noted.

"So, are you game?" I pressed.

He picked up his coffee cup, paused before taking a sip, abruptly set it back down, and stood up.

I blinked, startled.

He grabbed the bill off the table and glanced at me. "Let's go."

"Go where?" I asked.

"City Hall."

The bullet comments went wild:

[HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT! THEY'RE ACTUALLY GOING!!!]

[This dude is savage too! Married thirty minutes after meeting!!]

[Fastest blind date in human history, period!]

My head buzzed. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed my bag.

My heels clicked furiously against the tile, terrified he might change his mind.

Stepping out of the café, Sean walked ahead of me. The breeze caught his plain white shirt, flattening it against his broad shoulders and back.

His car was parked by the curb. It really was an old, beat-up Corolla with faded paint.

He unlocked the doors and looked back at me. "Do you have your ID?"

"Yep," I tapped my shoulder bag. "I always carry my documents when I go on blind dates."

It was a habit of mine. Mandy used to tease me, saying I looked like I was ready to elope at a moment's notice.

Now? It turned out to be the smartest habit of my entire life.

As the engine sputtered to life, the comments were still scrolling:

[This girl is the boldest gambler I've ever seen!]

[She won the gamble! In three days, she gets to retire for life!]

[Damn, my blood is pumping! I'm going out on a blind date right now!]

Sitting in the passenger seat, I watched Sean's profile from the corner of my eye.

He drove with steady hands, one resting casually on the wheel, eyes on the road, calm and unbothered.

He probably thought this was just another boring date that somehow derailed into an impromptu marriage.

And I never expected that coming here to reject a guy on someone else's dime would end with me tying the knot.

To a man who was about to inherit a thirty-billion-dollar empire, no less.

As we merged onto the main avenue, my phone vibrated.

Another message from Mandy:

"Never mind, forget about it. I already texted the matchmaker and told them you two weren't a match. Keep the $300, consider it my treat for your coffee."

Not a match.

Looking at the screen, I almost let out a snort.

Mandy, you really are the best friend a girl could ask for.