Chapter 3 Goodbye Bride

Under the moonlight, a handsome man lay amidst the flowers, the barrel of his gun pointed at her threateningly. With a calm and steady gaze, Minerva assessed the situation. Her eyes quickly darted to the gun in his hand, and she responded with a panicked tone, “Don't hurt me. I... I will save you.” Uncertain of the man's abilities, she hesitated to reveal her own abilities. There was a possibility he was sent by Hazel to test her, and she wasn't willing to expose herself just yet. “Pretty lady, I won't hurt you — but you must save me,” the man said, his eyes flickering toward the cabin behind her. “Help me get inside.” Minerva's delicate eyelashes fluttered as she spoke, her voice soft and trembling, filled with fear. “I don't want to die. I'm so scared. As long as you don't hurt me, I promise I'll do my best to save you.” She couldn't help but find the situation odd. This was the first time she'd encountered someone wielding a gun to force another to save their life. Shouldn't he be begging more humbly, pleading for rescue instead of threatening? If they weren't in the Somerville Manor, surrounded by servants who would make disposing of a body impossible, she would've been tempted to end the life of this crude brute right then and there, burying him where no one would find him. After exerting considerable effort, Minerva finally managed to get the man to her room. Just as she was about to examine his wounds, he stopped her, placing a firm hand on her forehead and commanding, “Go, turn off the lights.” Minerva narrowed her eyes, listening to the man's strong, steady voice. He's probably not even injured at all! “What do you want? I am the bride-to-be of the mafia boss in Hepham,” she retorted, her tone a mixture of defiance and confusion. “Bride? Interesting,” the man replied, his voice laced with an amused curiosity. “You're from Hepham, right? Then you must know about the upcoming wedding between the Somerville family's daughter and the mafia boss of Hepham. It's the talk of the town. I'm that bride-to-be. If anything were to happen to me, don't you think you'd be in even more trouble?” Minerva said, her voice firm. “Let me go. I haven't seen anything, and I won't say a word.” At that moment, Minerva couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude toward Hazel. Though Hazel had brought her back to Hepham, she had made her take a cheap train ride, only to have her picked up in a luxury car once she arrived at the station. Hazel had meticulously orchestrated this extravagant wedding, full of grandeur and spectacle, all to boost her own reputation. The news of the Somerville family's daughter marrying the mysterious mafia boss of Hepham was the talk of the town—the perfect gossip fodder. Minerva, however, was playing a risky game, betting that this man didn't want to cause any trouble. The man still held onto her, his grip unyielding. Just as Minerva prepared to resist, she heard the distinct sound of footsteps outside—multiple people, approaching. “Make a sound!” The man's lips brushed against her ear, his voice a low whisper, sharp with command. Minerva barely contained her disbelief. Make a sound? How am I supposed to make a sound? Am I supposed to cry out for help? When Minerva remained silent, the man pressed a gun to her head with one hand and forcefully gripped her waist with the other. Startled, Minerva couldn't help but let out a gasp. That sound was enough to make the footsteps outside pause. “Continue,” the man ordered, his tone cold and demanding. So, he wants to create the illusion of a sexual encounter to fool the people outside? To avoid their search? What a ridiculous idea! To her surprise, however, the fools outside didn't approach again. In fact, they eventually turned and left. The absurd scheme had worked — it had deceived them all. “You did well, bride.” Seizing a moment of distraction, the man pressed a quick kiss to Minerva's cheek in the darkness. Without another word, he opened the window and disappeared into the night. “We'll see each other again.” Minerva's eyes widened in disbelief. What did he just say? The small incident from the previous night didn't derail Minerva's plans. As dawn broke, she took a careful look around the manor. As expected, the Somerville family was teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, and their security measures were shockingly inadequate. Or, it was also possible that Clifford and Hazel had never considered her safety; they had placed her in a remote corner of the manor, leaving her vulnerable. The servants arrived at Minerva's room early in the morning to assist with her dressing and grooming. Once she was ready, a group of attendants escorted her to the Royal Grace Manor, where the Somerville family's highly anticipated wedding was set to take place. Clifford led his daughter into the grand hall, hand in hand. However, there was no groom awaiting her beside the pastor. Feigning ignorance, Minerva let a modest blush rise to her cheeks, the kind of bashfulness expected of a young lady. She glanced around with a slight frown and asked, “Dad, why... hasn't the groom arrived?” No sooner had Minerva's words left her mouth than Hazel's expression changed.