Owen Rhodes had planned to go back to the office to deal with a backlog of files and contracts.
He casually flipped through a few, but he couldn’t quiet his mind, so he headed to the Qillian Club early.
The Qillian Club on Harroway Avenue was Jandor’s most stylish den of pleasure. The entrance featured a cascading water wall. Inside, a design weaving cold tal with warm natural wood exuded an air of unattainable elegance and luxury.
On the club’s third floor was a private room, not open to the public, perennially reserved for a few familiar n to play cards, drink, and occasionally discuss business.
When Owen Rhodes arrived, the card ga in the private room had just begun.
Silas Jacobs glanced at him, then said to the other two at the table, "Well, look who’s here. You can just ask him yourselves. I’ll fill in whatever Rhodes left out!"
Silas Jacobs was thrilled. This ti, he had been there for the whole thing and knew every detail.
More importantly, the other two were completely in the dark.
’A win!’
His childish competitive streak was satisfied, and a strange sense of superiority washed over him.
Wyatt Keating, sitting across from Silas, was impeccably dressed in a suit. His sharp, almond-shaped eyes pierced through the lenses of his gold-rimd glasses, fixed on the man who hadn’t yet sat down.
"Owen, care to explain? You specifically told to personally contact the Civil Affairs Bureau to arrange for a last-minute appointnt. Who has that much pull? It couldn’t be for that hapless nephew of yours, could it?"
After all, said hapless nephew had been causing quite a stir in Jandor lately; it was hard for anyone not to know.
Owen Rhodes took off his suit jacket, casually pulling a small red booklet from the inner pocket and flashing it in front of the "unworldly" n.
"."
The entire room was like it had been suddenly shrink-wrapped and tossed into liquid nitrogen—frozen solid for an instant, then violently boiling over the next.
"What! Holy shit! For real?!"
Julian Chandler cried out in shock, leaping to his feet and snatching the marriage certificate from Owen’s hand to examine it over and over.
Not only did he look at it himself, but he also shoved it in Wyatt Keating’s face for him to see.
The national emblem, the leather cover, the photo, the official stamp, the serial number—it couldn’t be more real.
"Owen, you started with getting the license... Are you always this direct?"
After two seconds of silence, he pressed his hands to his temples, trying hard to rember.
"Wait, did I lose my mory too? When did Owen get a girlfriend? Am I the only one who didn’t know?"
He turned his head and saw that Wyatt was still stunned.
He felt relieved. Wyatt didn’t know either.
Only Silas Jacobs was smiling smugly, a hand pressed to his chest.
"Sorry, fellas. I witnessed the entire thing firsthand."
No one paid any attention to his gloating.
Wyatt Keating was the most level-headed of the group.
He pushed up his glasses and said scornfully, "It’s your wedding night. Instead of staying ho, you call us out to play cards. Is that appropriate?"
Owen said, "She’d be nervous if I were there."
So he had decided to give her space at ho, and would only go back once she’d had ti to adjust.
Silas didn’t catch Owen’s underlying aning and helpfully added in a low voice, "They just t three days ago. It was a whirlwind marriage. They don’t even know each other well yet."
Hearing this, Wyatt and Julian were once again dumbfounded.
In the aftershock, Julian held up the page with the photo and leaned toward Wyatt.
"Wyatt, don’t you think this beauty looks a little—AH!"
He got a sharp smack on the back of his head from Owen, who was just walking past after hanging up his jacket.
He corrected, "Call her ’sister-in-law’."
"Oh..." Julian scratched his head. "Wyatt, don’t you think our sister-in-law looks a little familiar?"
Wyatt took a closer look, lost in thought.
Silas threw an arm around Julian’s neck. "You brat! I’m warning you, don’t you be coveting your sister-in-law’s beauty! She is gorgeous, but she’s your sister-in-law!"
Julian shot him a speechless glare. "Silas, I’m not you, falling for every person you see. I don’t play around. I’m a one-woman man."
"Hey! You’re asking for it, aren’t you?"
The two started bickering, a clash of fire and lightning.
Wyatt, ignoring them completely, lit a cigarette and passed one to the man who had sat down in the empty seat to his left.
"The Sterling Family’s Stella Sterling?"
"Mhm."
"I heard she’s engaged to your nephew."
"There’s no marriage contract. Who can prove it?"
Wyatt shot him a sharp glance.
’Look at how smug he is. Isn’t he afraid that one day that contract will suddenly grow legs and run out on its own?’
’Sothing’s fishy.’
"Will the old man agree?"
"The license is already registered. What’s he going to do about it?"
’No wonder this guy was in such a rush this evening, making him pull strings to arrange the appointnt. So it was a classic case of act first, report later.’
’And what a scoundrel this guy is.’
Two daughters from the Sterling Family marrying an uncle and nephew from the Rhodes Family. How scandalous would that sound?
But Owen Rhodes wasn’t the least bit afraid.
Because the license was already registered.
If the Rhodes Family didn’t want people to gossip, fine. All they had to do was stop the couple that wasn’t married yet.
"Aren’t you afraid your hapless nephew will regain his mory one day?"
Owen sneered. "Everyone knows he’s madly in love with Kiana Sterling."
Ethan Rhodes had brought that upon himself.
So what if he regained his mory?
Setting aside whether Kiana would be willing to let go, he himself wouldn’t give Ethan any chance, and Stella certainly wouldn’t either.
Wyatt exhaled a thin stream of smoke. "Are you serious?"
"Isn’t it obvious?"
It was.
The license was already registered.
"What about your ’unforgettable one’?"
This ti, Owen didn’t answer. The look on his face, however, was intriguing.
He had no intention of continuing the topic and crooked his finger, calling the two bickerers back to the ga.
After a few rounds, the screen of Owen’s phone, which he had set aside, suddenly lit up with a WeChat notification.
He unlocked it. It was a friend request.
It was from a new account. The na was a wave emoji, and the profile picture was the backlit silhouette of a girl with wavy hair by a bright, blue sea.
The silhouette alone was captivating.
Owen didn’t even need to see the introductory ssage to guess it was Stella Sterling.
After he accepted, the other person replied almost instantly with a sticker.
Stella Sterling: [cat_peeking.gif]
The three n at the table watched as Owen suddenly looked at his phone and broke into a gentle smile they had never seen before.
Silas discreetly leaned toward Julian and whispered, "Don’t tell Rhodes is possessed or sothing?"
Julian tattled loudly, "Owen, Silas said you’re possessed!"
Silas: "You son of a..."
Owen acted as if he hadn’t heard a thing, completely unbothered, and simply lowered his head to reply to Stella.
Owen Rhodes: [Here.]
"The other person is typing..." appeared in the chat box for a few seconds.
Stella Sterling: [When are you coming ho?]
Owen suddenly threw his cards on the table, got up, and walked out.
Silas quickly shouted after him, "Where are you going?!"
"Ho."
Only after the door to the private room closed again did Silas complain, "Hey! He’s the one who said we’d pull an all-nighter, and he’s also the one who called us out here just to ditch us."
Wyatt nonchalantly rubbed his tired brow and made the call, "Let’s wrap it up."
It was nearly one in the morning when Owen Rhodes returned to Lanthos Bay.
The villa was silent. As usual, Tate had left a hallway light on for him, so he wouldn’t co ho late to complete darkness.
As he bent down to change his shoes, he noticed that where there were usually only his black dress shoes and sneakers, there was now a pair of white German Army Trainers.
Sothing about this cold villa was finally different.
He walked up to the second floor. The master bedroom door was ajar, a sliver of warm yellow light seeping through the crack. The sound of a phone conversation drifted from inside the room.
"Stella Sterling, fess up. Did you fall for that model the first ti you t him? Hmph, I knew it when you hung up on during his proposal. You’re not so innocent!"
"What do you an, not innocent? I’m as innocent as they co, inside and out, okay?"
The call had already been going on for twenty minutes. Ariana Grant was full of questions, needing to know every last detail.
Stella was getting thirsty from all the talking, so she got up to go downstairs for a glass of water.
"Innocent enough to get married after just three days? Stella Sterling, why don’t you just admit you’re smitten with his good looks!"
Stella couldn’t be bothered to argue. "Fine, fine, I am smitten with his good looks. His face, his body—they’re exactly my type—"
The mont she pulled the door open, light flooded out, revealing Owen Rhodes standing just outside, his gaze deep and intense.
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