The Stranger I Married

Ella hesitated at the base of the grand staircase leading to the mansion’s entrance, her drenched clothes clinging uncomfortably to her body. The rain continued to pour, but the luxurious umbrella shielding her offered a momentary reprieve. Nicholas stood at the top of the steps, his hands tucked casually into his pockets, watching her with an amused expression.

"Are you planning to stand in the rain all night, wife," he called down, his voice laced with teasing, "or do you need another royal invitation?"

"I didn’t ask to come here," she snapped back, though her voice lacked conviction. She was too cold and tired to put up much of a fight.

He smirked and descended a few steps toward her. "No, but I couldn’t leave my wife stranded. People might say I’m heartless."

Ella rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "You are heartless."

Nicholas caught it and chuckled. "Careful, wife. That sharp tongue might end up starting a war."

Her steps faltered. "Stop calling me that."

"What, wife?" he grinned. "It’s what the paperwork says. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten our little Vegas vows."

She shot him a glare as she trudged up the steps. "That was a mistake."

"Maybe," he said easily, opening the heavy double doors and gesturing for her to enter. "But legally binding mistakes are still binding."

Ella stepped into the mansion and was immediately enveloped by warmth. The interior was stunning—polished marble floors, chandeliers dripping with crystal, and soft golden lighting that made everything feel surreal. She hovered near the entrance, dripping water onto the pristine floor.