"You're already legally married! Why are you trying to register another marriage?"
"Don't you know that's bigamy—and it's against the law?!"
The clerk's voice echoed through the courthouse, drawing curious stares from nearby strangers.
Lyra Moreau stood frozen, clutching her purse with white knuckles. This couldn't be happening. Not today. Not when she'd finally agreed to her mother's ridiculous demand.
The man beside her—a hired actor she'd paid to pose as her husband—shifted awkwardly. "Miss Moreau, you're already married? Why did you hire me for a fake marriage registration?"
He glanced at his watch, backing away. "I'm afraid the deposit is non-refundable." Then he fled, leaving her alone with her shock.
Lyra bit her lower lip, stunned into silence. She'd never even had a boyfriend. How could she possibly be married?
She stared at the printout the clerk had thrust into her hands—a marriage certificate. In the photo, she looked uncomfortable, her smile forced. The mole at the corner of her eye confirmed it was indeed her. But the man beside her...
He had strong features and a prominent jaw. His piercing eyes seemed to look right through the photograph. Even in black and white, his commanding presence was undeniable.
Her eyes moved to the name: Percival Covington.
She'd never met this man in her life.
With trembling fingers, Lyra took out her phone, snapped a picture of the certificate, and sent it to a contact labeled only with a black avatar. "Help me figure out who this is," she typed.
The reply came instantly. "Got it."
Lyra tucked the certificate into her purse and left the courthouse. Outside, she climbed onto her old electric scooter and headed toward the Moreau estate, a sprawling mansion nestled in Oceanion's most exclusive neighborhood.
Today was her half-sister Orla's big moment—her betrothal to Jasper Covington. The man who had pursued Lyra for four years in college.
The mansion gleamed with decorations. Staff bustled about, preparing for the evening's festivities. Temporary workers had been hired to help with the event.
Lyra parked her scooter in a corner, keeping her head down as she passed a group of workers.
"Who's she? She's gorgeous!"
"Shh, that's the illegitimate daughter. The one Mr. Moreau never acknowledges."
"Her mom was the mistress, right? I heard she showed up pregnant the same time as Mrs. Moreau and they delivered on the same day. Bold move, staying in the house all these years."
"At least that one knows her place. Moved out in high school and barely comes around anymore. Wonder what brings her today..."
Lyra pretended not to hear, her face a mask of indifference. She'd heard worse. She stepped into the grand foyer, immediately spotted by her mother.
Colette Blackwood grabbed her arm, dragging her up the marble staircase. Despite being in her fifties, Colette maintained a youthful appearance through sheer determination and expensive procedures.
"Finally you're here. Did you get the marriage certificate?" Colette hissed, her nails digging into Lyra's arm.
"Yes," Lyra answered flatly. It wasn't technically a lie.
"Good. Remember your place today. Jasper Covington comes from one of Oceanion's most prestigious families. He's exactly what Orla deserves—not someone an illegitimate child like you could ever hope for."
Lyra's lips curved into a humorless smile. Jasper Covington, the man who'd pursued her relentlessly throughout college, only to propose to Orla on graduation day after learning Lyra's "illegitimate" status.
When he'd started showing interest in Orla, Colette had immediately demanded that Lyra find someone else to marry—anyone—to eliminate any possibility of competition.
That's how it had always been. Whenever there was even the slightest chance of a conflict between her and Orla, Lyra was expected to step aside. Because she was the illegitimate daughter. The mistake. The stain on the family's reputation.
"We agreed. This is the last time," Lyra said firmly, each word crisp with finality.
Colette was the one who'd clung to the Moreau family, refusing to leave even when her affair ended. She was the one who insisted on appeasing Orla's every whim. Lyra wouldn't sacrifice her life anymore—not for Colette's sake.
"I heard you," Colette snapped, clearly annoyed by her daughter's defiance.
They arrived at Orla's bedroom suite. The door was open, revealing a princess-like setting. Orla sat on a velvet chaise, sorting through jewelry boxes filled with sparkling gems. Her cream-colored designer dress contrasted sharply with Lyra's simple blouse and jeans.
Despite her plain attire, Lyra maintained perfect posture. She refused to be diminished.
Orla looked up, her perfect features arranging into a practiced smile. "Lyra! What brings you here?"
Before Lyra could answer, Colette jumped in. "Lyra got married today."
Orla's eyebrows shot up. "Really? So soon? Who's the lucky man? Is he better than Jasper?"
Colette laughed sharply. "Of course not! There isn't a single man in all of Oceanion who compares to Jasper Covington! Do you really think she could find someone decent? The loser she married didn't even dare come here with her—probably afraid his shabby appearance would offend our eyes!"
Orla tilted her head, a flash of jealousy crossing her features. "That can't be right. Lyra's pretty enough—that's why Jasper chased after her for four years."
"What good is a pretty face? A cheap shoe still matches a ragged sock," Colette spat. "Given her status, only society's rejects would want her. Jasper merely saw her as temporary amusement. Only you, Orla, with your legitimate status, are worthy of someone like Jasper Covington..."
Lyra frowned slightly. The man in her marriage certificate, with his commanding presence, hardly matched Colette's description of some "ghetto husband."
Orla finished selecting her jewelry and attempted to reach for her heels, struggling due to her tight dress.
She flashed Lyra an expectant smile.
"Useless girl! So oblivious!" Colette shoved Lyra forward. "Can't you see your sister needs help with her shoes?"
Lyra stared back coldly. It had always been like this. Colette still thought she was that naive little girl who would accept any mistreatment.
"You can help her yourself," Lyra replied, her voice edged with ice.
"Lyra Moreau! What's gotten into you?" Colette's voice rose. "You think you're special just because you're married now? Your husband is nothing but a freeloader! You'll still need the Moreau family's support eventually!"
Her shrill voice echoed through the room. "If you don't make peace with your sister now, there will come a day when you and your pathetic husband will come begging her for help! The Moreau family raised you—you should be grateful to serve them like the servant you are!"
A tall figure appeared in the doorway. Lachlan Moreau, Lyra's father, frowned at the scene before him.
"An honored guest is about to arrive, and you're causing a scene?" His voice was controlled but sharp.
Orla remained silent, playing innocent.
Colette immediately switched to victim mode. "It's this ungrateful girl. She thinks she's above us just because she got married today..."
Lachlan turned to Lyra, his expression unreadable. "You got married? Why didn't you let us arrange someone suitable? Where's this marriage certificate? Let me see."
Facing her estranged father's sudden interest, Lyra hesitated before pulling the printout from her bag.
Before she could hand it over, Colette snatched it away. "Let me see what kind of loser you married!"
"Dad, who's this guest that has you so nervous?" Orla asked, diverting attention to herself.
At the mention of their visitor, Lachlan's face transformed with excitement. He straightened his tie and announced proudly:
"Percival Covington."
Lyra felt the blood drain from her face.
Wait—what?