I Accidentally Flash‑Married the World's Richest Man

Dawn's gray light filtered through the dusty blinds, finding Journey exactly where she'd been all night: slumped on the sofa, still in yesterday's clothes.

Her laptop screen was a mosaic of Dane Beaumont's face. The articles called him "Manhattan's Most Committed Bachelor," "The Number One Enemy of Matrimony," and gleefully listed his many public statements mocking the institution of marriage.

In one photo, he stood before the Beaumont Group headquarters, a titan in a perfectly tailored suit. His expression was cold, his eyes holding a power that felt oppressive even through the screen.

A chill ran down Journey's spine. To be partnered with a man like that? He would crush her like an ant.

She couldn't let that happen.

She showered in three minutes, pulled on her most presentable—and only—blouse and a pair of jeans, and grabbed her backpack.

She took the overnight bus from Florida to Washington, D.C., arriving just as the Department of Domestic Affairs (DDA) headquarters opened its doors. The line of people hoping to appeal their matches already snaked around the block.

After three agonizing hours, her number was called. A stone-faced, middle-aged clerk led her to a small, sterile cubicle.

"Hello, I... I'd like to file for an annulment of my pairing," Journey said, her voice shaking as she slid her ID across the counter.

The clerk typed without looking up.

When Journey's file appeared on her screen, the clerk's eyebrows shot up in a rare display of emotion. She looked at Journey, truly looked at her, for the first time. Her eyes held a flicker of disdain, as if she were looking at a fool who'd won the lottery and was trying to return the ticket.

"Ms. Burch," the clerk said, her voice devoid of warmth, "according to the Act, Section 17, Clause 3, all matches, once generated, are legally binding and irrevocable."

"But my match is Dane Beaumont!" Journey pleaded. "It has to be a mistake! A system error!"

The clerk pushed her glasses up her nose. "The system does not make errors. Mr. Beaumont, like you, is an eligible, single citizen. The law is equal for everyone."

Journey's mind raced, searching for a loophole. "What about the background check? The Act says it considers shared backgrounds to improve compatibility. We couldn't be more different!"

The clerk, annoyed, tapped a few keys and turned the monitor towards Journey.

"See here," she said, pointing to a line of text. "The system did take that into account. According to our records, your childhood address and Mr. Beaumont's are both registered to a place called 'Starfish Lane' in Florida."

The words hit Journey like a physical shock. Starfish Lane? That was the single, dusty road in the tiny fishing village where she grew up. How could Dane Beaumont have ever lived there?

Her mind reeled. A different place with the same name? Impossible. The village was too small, too insignificant.

The clerk turned the monitor back around. "Therefore, the system determined a potential 'childhood connection,' granting you an A+ compatibility rating. Application denied. Next!"

Journey found herself back in the hallway, her back pressed against the cold, institutional wall. Despair washed over her.

Every path of resistance was blocked by this absurd "childhood connection."

Outside the DDA building, a black, armored Maybach purred to a stop.

The rear door opened, and a tall man in a dark gray suit emerged. He wore sunglasses, but the cold, powerful aura he projected seemed to lower the temperature of the air around him.

It was Dane Beaumont.

His assistant, Justen Oneal, scurried to his side. "Sir, we're here. Marcus is already waiting upstairs."

Dane said nothing. He just looked up at the DDA's official seal, a cold, unreadable smirk playing on his lips.

He strode into the building, his path intersecting with Journey's as she stumbled out.

A scent, crisp and cold like winter pine, brushed past her nose, making her shiver involuntarily.

She glanced back at the tall figure, but he was already disappearing into a private elevator, leaving only a fleeting silhouette.

Shaking her head, Journey dismissed the feeling. Her mind was consumed by the mystery of Starfish Lane.

She didn't know that the man she had just passed was the other half of her fated disaster.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone. She had to call her dad and ask him about the old days on Starfish Lane.