Chapter 2

My story with Fredrick began with a classic damsel-in-distress moment.

My family was new money—the kind old-money elites loved to mock. That night was my debut at a high-society gala, and my parents had pulled every favor to get me in. "Network with the elite," they'd said. "Make connections."

Clueless and overwhelmed, I'd wandered the ballroom in a gown that cost a fortune but was decades out of style. And of course, my high school nemesis—a razor-tongued socialite—spotted me instantly.

"Wow, how much did Daddy donate to score you an invite?" She smirked, flanked by her equally vicious friends. "No matter how much you spend, you'll always smell like new money. You really think a decorated general would glance at trash like you?"

I blinked. "General who?"

They tore into my dress, my accent, even the pink diamond necklace my father had liquidated half our assets to buy me.

"Ugh, this design is so last season."

"Pretty sure this was the rejected lot at Christie's. Typical."

But I remembered my dad's proud smile when he fastened it around my neck.

"Nothing but the best for my Lucille."

I tried to slip away, but they cornered me outside the restroom.

Humiliation burned my cheeks as tears welled up, which only fueled their laughter.

I shoved past them, desperate to escape—Then rip. One of them stomped on my skirt. The delicate fabric split clean to my thigh, sending me crashing to the floor. Now, any movement would leave me exposed.

Oh God. What do I do?!

"What the hell is going on here?"

Fredrick's voice cut through the air like a blade, and the girls' faces went bone-white—like they'd just seen a ghost.

Why was a high-ranking general lurking outside the women's restroom? No idea. But I wasn't complaining.

Their plastered smiles cracked.

"General! What a... surprise."

He didn't even glance their way. The sharp click of his dress boots echoed as he strode toward me, each step radiating authority.

All I could focus on were those unfairly long legs before he stopped inches away and extended his hand.

"Can you stand?"

I didn't know him, but God, he was magnetic. His uniform was a masterpiece of polished medals and intricate braiding, the kind that screamed top-tier military elite.

There was something raw, almost predatory, in the way he carried himself.

After a heartbeat's hesitation, I slid my hand into his.

His palm swallowed mine whole—my fingers barely grazed his knuckles. His skin was ice-cold, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

Misreading my reaction, Fredrick shrugged off his coat and draped it over my shoulders. Then, without warning, he scooped me up like I weighed nothing.

"Address." His tone brooked no argument. "I'm taking you home."

Behind us, I could hear the girls' teeth grinding.

Just to spite them, I leaned into his chest, playing up the damsel act—until the scent of gunpowder clinging to his coat hit my nose.

I sneezed. Right in his face.

Damn!

I braced for the moment he'd order my family exiled to some frozen wasteland.

But Fredrick just went unnaturally still—then let out a low, rough chuckle.

"The dress is pretty," he murmured, adjusting the coat around me. "But it's flimsy as hell. You'll freeze."

*****

He personally drove me home.

By sunset, the rumor mill was in overdrive: General Fredrick had been spotted carrying a girl through the capital—and delivering her straight to her doorstep.

When my parents saw the black armored SUV idling at our gate, they nearly collapsed, convinced I'd committed treason and was being delivered for execution.

Then the next morning, an invitation arrived on Alston family crest-embossed stationery—Fredrick himself demanded my presence at dinner.

My whole family stared at the gilded parchment like it might bite us.

That particular shade of black-and-gold foil was literally impossible to counterfeit.

One week later, he proposed.

Richer than God, stupidly handsome, and absurdly generous—what sane woman would refuse? Sure, his personality ran colder than a Siberian winter, but hey, perfection doesn't exist.

They say love grows over time.

Given how... enthusiastically he applied himself in certain marital duties, I had no doubt we'd eventually rival my parents' legendary romance.

Though at this rate, I might not survive long enough to see it. The man was literally fucking me into an early grave.

I'd thought this marriage was some divine reward.

Then I realized the truth.

I was the reward—his reward.

Life's such a joke.