"Oops... I Do!"

Lila's POV: The Courthouse Chaos

"It's just a signature. A signature, a couple of vows, and then I belong to Ethan Grey, cold-hearted billionaire and the man who will save my family's company. No pressure."

I tugged at the collar of my white dress for the third time in ten minutes. It wasn't even a real wedding dress—just a simple, knee-length number my mother had approved because "it makes you look practical but not cheap." Practical, apparently, was the exact vibe one should aim for when walking into a lifelong business transaction.

The courthouse loomed in front of me, all gray walls and bureaucratic indifference, and I had to resist the urge to turn and sprint back to my car. My parents, bless their overly dramatic hearts, had promised me this was the right thing to do. "A marriage of convenience," they called it, as if that made it sound noble instead of soul-crushing. "You're saving all of us, darling."

And yes, logically, I knew they were right. My father's company was circling the drain, my little brother's tuition was overdue, and my mother's charity luncheons required funding that we definitely didn't have anymore. If Ethan Grey's money and connections could fix all of that, then fine. I'd marry him.

But logic didn't stop the nagging thought in my brain: I didn't even like Ethan Grey. Forget love—I was pretty sure the man didn't even have blood in his veins. He ran on spreadsheets and ambition. Romance wasn't part of the deal. He probably scheduled his emotions into five-minute slots between meetings.

I adjusted my bouquet of limp gas-station carnations and climbed the courthouse steps. This was fine. Everything was fine.

---

Inside the Courthouse: Disaster Waiting to Happen

The waiting room smelled like floor polish and disappointment. A few other couples sat on the benches, ranging from wide-eyed and giggling to already glaring at each other. One woman was crying softly into a tissue.

Great. Perfect place to get married.

Peter, Ethan's perpetually frazzled assistant, stood near the clerk's desk, shuffling a folder of paperwork like it might spontaneously combust. When he saw me, he darted over, his tie already askew.

"Ms. Harper!" he exclaimed, as though I were a celebrity who'd just graced him with my presence. "You look... wonderful."

"Peter," I said, cutting straight to the point, "where's Ethan?"

Peter's smile faltered. "He, uh... there was an issue with the board meeting. He's... delayed."

I raised an eyebrow. "Delayed? You mean he's late. To his own wedding."

Peter's face turned a lovely shade of panic. "He'll be here soon," he stammered. "Definitely. He asked me to assure you—"

"That this is fine?" I interrupted, crossing my arms. "Because, Peter, let me assure you: this is not fine."

Peter fumbled with the folder, almost dropping it. "Mr. Grey sends his deepest apologies. He'll, uh, definitely be here for the honeymoon."

"Fantastic," I muttered. "I'll pencil him in for eye contact on our second anniversary."

Peter looked like he might cry.

---

Enter Jackson Carter: Chaos in Human Form

"Next couple! Harper and Carter!" the clerk called out, her voice as bored as the peeling paint on the walls.

I stood up, smoothing my dress and preparing myself for what was surely going to be the least romantic wedding in history. But before I could even move, someone else walked up to the clerk's desk.

He was not Ethan Grey.

The man strolling into the courthouse looked like he belonged in a motorcycle ad, not a marriage ceremony. He wore a leather jacket over a T-shirt that had definitely seen better days, paired with ripped jeans and boots that looked like they'd been in a fight with a lawnmower. His hair was dark and perfectly messy, like he'd rolled out of bed and said, Yeah, this works.

And he was holding a bag of chips.

"Hey," he said, his voice casual, like this was the checkout line at a gas station. "This the spot for Harper and Carter?"

Peter froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. "Uh... y-yes! Harper and Carter! Right here!"

What. The. Hell.

Before I could even process what was happening, the man strolled right up to the clerk's desk. He crumpled his chip bag and stuffed it in his pocket, flashing a grin that could probably stop traffic.

I turned to Peter, my voice low and dangerous. "What is happening?"

"Uh," Peter stammered, thrusting a pen into the man's hand. "This is Mr. Carter. Just sign here, sir. It's, uh, all been arranged."

"All been—?" My voice pitched higher as I rounded on Peter. "Peter, who is this man?!"

The stranger—Carter, apparently—turned to me and winked. "I'm guessing you're the bride?"

"Excuse me?"

"Great. Let's do this," he said, turning back to the clerk like this was the most normal thing in the world.

---

The Ceremony: A Disaster in the Making

The clerk didn't even blink. She just adjusted her glasses and launched into the ceremony, clearly ready to move on with her day.

"Do you, Lila Harper, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it. My brain was still stuck on Who is this man and why is he here? But Peter was standing off to the side, looking like he might have a stroke if I didn't cooperate.

"Sure," I said finally, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Whatever."

The clerk turned to him. "And do you, Jackson Carter, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Jackson—because apparently that was his name—grinned like the devil himself. "Absolutely. Best decision of my life."

Something about his tone made me glare at him, but before I could respond, the clerk was stamping our marriage certificate with an air of finality.

"Congratulations," she said, handing me the document. "You're married."

---

Enter Ethan Grey

The courthouse doors slammed open, and in strode Ethan Grey.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?"

His voice echoed off the walls as everyone turned to stare. He was wearing a designer suit, his jaw clenched so tightly I was surprised his teeth hadn't cracked. His sharp eyes zeroed in on Jackson, who was leaning against the desk, looking utterly unbothered.

"We're married," I blurted, holding up the certificate like a shield.

Ethan's glare shifted to Jackson. "To him?!"

I turned to Jackson, who popped another chip into his mouth and shrugged.

"Wait," I said slowly, my stomach sinking. "Who are you?"

Jackson grinned. "I don't know, sweetheart. Who am I to you?"

The Realization

I stared at the marriage certificate, the weight of what had just happened crashing down on me.

I wasn't married to Ethan Grey. I was married to a stranger. A leather-jacket-wearing, chip-eating stranger.

"This can't be happening," I whispered. "This isn't happening."

Jackson leaned closer, his grin widening. "Don't worry, Mrs. Carter. This is gonna be fun."

"And Jackson Carter? He looked like he was having the time of his life."