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Drunken Marriage

In the bright lights of Vegas, Aris Reynolds never thought her wild night would end in a marriage she couldn't remember. But when she wakes up married to the mysterious billionaire Nico, her life changes completely. With the risk of deportation and a surprise pregnancy, can they make everyone believe their marriage is real? As jealous exes and hidden enemies appear, Aris must wonder: Can a contract turn into real love?

Toria_Brighton · Urban
Not enough ratings
140 Chs

THE INTERROGATION

My heart was beating really fast as the serious-looking immigration officers motioned for me to come with them. This was not good at all!

"Wait, please!" I said, my voice shaky. "There must be some kind of mistake. I don't know how I ended up married, it was just a crazy night!"

The taller officer gave me a hard look. "Maybe so, but we still need to ask you some questions. Cooperation will be better for you."

I gulped. What had I gotten myself into? I had no choice but to go with them, leaving that fancy hotel room and my new accidental husband behind. 

As we walked down the hallway, my mind was racing. How could just one wild night in Vegas lead to such a huge mess? Just hours ago I was excitedly getting ready to be my best friend Trish's maid of honor. Now federal agents were hauling me away because of my stupidly impulsive decision to get drunk married!

We reached a plain office room and the officers ushered me inside. I tried to remain calm as one of them began firing questions at me.

"State your full name for the record," he demanded.

"A-Aris Reynolds," I stammered out.

He made a note on his pad. "And you admit to participating in a marriage ceremony last night with..." He checked his notes again. "...A Mr. Nico Marino?"

I slowly nodded, feeling sick. Nico Marino , was that the name of the handsome stranger I had married?

The officer leaned forward. "This Marino is not a U.S. citizen. Where exactly did you two meet?"

My throat went dry. "I...I don't really know anything about him. We met at a club and just hit it off, I guess."

"So you married a man you barely knew?"

I gave a helpless shrug. The situation sounded even crazier said out loud.

The officer's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Miss Reynolds, do you have any idea what a serious violation of federal law it is to arrange a sham marriage solely for the purpose of obtaining green cards or immigration benefits?"

My jaw dropped as the severity of their implications hit me. "No! Oh my god, no. I swear it was just a stupid drunken mistake, not anything illegal like that!"

But the more I tried to convince them, the more doubtful they seemed to find my story of an innocent Vegas wedding night gone wrong. They proceeded to grill me further about where Nico was from, how we met, and any suspicious circumstances around the arrangements.

Suddenly, my goofy lapse in judgment last night was looking more and more like a potential crime. I found myself frantically stammering out any details I could recall, hoping to convince them of the truth. But no matter what I said, the immigration agents seemed to view me as a sketchy criminal trying to perpetrate some kind of green card fraud scheme!

This was quickly becoming a nightmare worse than I could have imagined. Not only did I have an accidental Vegas wedding hanging over me, but now I was trapped in an intense interrogation, potentially facing serious charges.

As crazy as it sounded, I realized with sinking dread that I might actually be in huge legal trouble , all because of one fatefully reckless night of partying in Sin City. What had started as an embarrassing mistake was rapidly spinning out of control into a full-blown criminal investigation.

I had never felt as trapped, scared and hopelessly tangled up in consequences as I did right then, sweating under those officers' harsh accusatory stares. All I could think was how was I ever going to get out of this one?

Just then Nico walked inside the interrogation room looking all gloomy and unbothered by the situation.he looked at me like nothing had happened.

Was this a joke or something? He looked like he has a way out of this situation because why the hell was he looking so calm.

Hi…hi.. I stammered he looked towards me and gave me a disgusting look before facing the ice agents in front of us.

The immigration officers' interrogation felt neverending as they grilled Nico and me, convinced we were perpetrating some sort of green card fraud scheme with our quickie Vegas wedding. No matter how hard we tried to explain it was just a stupid drunken mistake, they didn't believe us.

Finally, the agents slammed their palms on the table, making me jump. "Enough!" the taller one boomed. "We've heard quite enough of your tall tales. It's clear to us that this sham marriage was an illegal attempt to circumvent our nation's immigration laws."

My heart dropped into my stomach as the officer jerked his thumb towards the door. "I'm afraid we're going to have to take you both into custody until we can gather more evidence and formal charges."

"No, wait!" I cried out desperately. "You have to believe us, it was all just one crazy night of poor judgment. We're not criminals, I swear!"

But the officers were already moving to handcuff Nico and me. This nightmare was going completely out of control. One minute I was a regular maid of honor, the next I was facing criminal charges and jail time , all because of my disastrous decision to get drunkenly married in Vegas.

Just then, the door burst open and a sharply-dressed older man strode into the interrogation room. "That's quite enough," he stated firmly to the agents. "I'll take over from here."

The agents looked confused but seemed to back off at the man's authoritative presence. With a curt nod, he motioned for Nico and me to follow him out of the room.

Still in a daze, we had no choice but to listen as the man led us away from the baffled ICE agents and into a private office space. Only then did he speak again in a low, serious voice.

"My name is Robert Reynolds, and I'm an immigration law specialist. Mr Nico your officials made me aware of the predicament you two find yourselves in based on that reckless Vegas stunt."

I felt my cheeks flush as he shot Nico and me a disapproving look. But then Robert's expression softened slightly as he removed a document from his briefcase.

"Thankfully, there is an alternative solution to criminal charges , if you're willing to commit yourselves to it. This is a contract for an arranged marriage."

Nico and I exchanged a wary glance as Robert explained the details. By signing this binding contract, he could temporarily validate our drunken Vegas wedding as legitimate for immigration purposes. 

"The arrangement would be for one year, during which time you two must live together and provide evidence that it's an authentic marital relationship," Robert clarified. "Any violations would risk deportation charges for Mr. Marino and criminal fraud charges for you, Miss Reynolds."

He looked at us sternly. "I won't deceive you, this contract marriage would be very difficult and full of danger. But it's better than going to prison for a drunken mistake, isn't it?"

My head was still spinning, but I knew Robert was right. As crazy as this contract arrangement sounded, it was a more palatable option than being arrested and charged as criminals just for my dumb drunken Vegas decision.

Slowly, i gave a reluctant nods of agreement. Glancing at Nico to see his reaction but he showed no sign of emotions.

It's better to be tied together as husband and wife for one year than to actually be put in jail cells. We put our names down, making this unusual marriage agreement legally required for us to follow.

"Wise choice," Robert gave a curt nod, whisking the paperwork away. "I'll take it from here and get those federal agents off your backs. For now, I suggest you two start attempting to act like a properly married couple."

With that, he excused himself, leaving Nico and me alone to process the fact that we had just signed up to be legally married strangers for the next year , all to avoid harsher consequences from our fateful Vegas wedding night.

As I looked at Nico's face, I realized this temporary arranged marriage was just postponing the big mess that would happen because of my careless mistake. We may have avoided being charged with a crime, but this contracted fix had its own major set of difficulties and problems coming soon.

 

I took the pen and shakily signed the contract, and then handed the pen to Nico. He gave me a cold glare and collected the pen.

This stunt is just to get out of this mess, just so you know you're not getting married to me. Nico said and signed the contract.