Chapter 3: Marriage on Paper
Flashback.
Four Years Before the Wedding.
Zeke sat in his grandfather’s study at the expansive Salvador estate. Classic, old-world, dignified. The walls were lined with oil paintings, antique books, and above the fireplace hung the proud family crest: Salvador Pharmaceuticals, Est. 1897.
Bastiano Salvador, despite being in his late sixties, stood tall, sharp-eyed, and commanding as ever. His voice carried weight, and when he spoke, it echoed with decades of power and pride.
"You’re thirty, Zeke," he said as he set his teacup down with a distinct clink. "Thirty. And still single. What exactly are you waiting for?"
Zeke leaned back in the leather chair, calm as always.
"I’ve been busy. The company—"
"Don’t you dare give me that excuse," Bastiano cut in sharply. "You think I wasn’t busy when I was your age? I had three children, two companies, and a boardroom war. But I still managed to get married and secure this family’s legacy."
Zeke exhaled quietly. He didn’t want to argue, but he also had no desire to get married out of pressure.
"We’ve got over fifty thousand employees, Grandpa. The company’s running smoothly. I’m building out the research division, pushing FDA—"
"Zeke," Bastiano’s voice was stern, his gaze unwavering, "you’re not the only one keeping this empire afloat. You think you’re irreplaceable? No one is. Not even me. What this family needs is stability. You settling down sends a message to the market, to the world, that we are unshakeable."