I Picked My Future Husband... From Blind Boxes

Karl heard my voice and glanced at me briefly.

His gaze was cold, distant, and carried an almost imperceptible hint of resistance. His forehead slammed against the cold floor, his voice hoarse yet resolute. "Father, all the blame lies with me. I've failed the Cole family and Tabitha, but Karen and the child are innocent. I can't let them suffer because of me. Please, just let me be with them."

The dull thud echoed in my mind. "Karen and the child?"

I followed his gaze to the shadowy corner of the room. A woman in an old blue dress timidly stepped out from the shadows. She looked younger than me, her face pale and her eyes brimming with tears.

She cradled her swollen belly and knelt in front of my dad, sobbing uncontrollably, "Please, let us have this."

Dad was as silent as the grave.

Karl probably hadn't expected that, after returning victorious, this marriage proposal would be so difficult.

After all, his engagement to me had never been made public.

But he had forgotten one thing. If it hadn't been for my insistence on marrying him, with the Cole family's status, I would have been married off to another elite heir long ago.

Inside and outside the room, everyone who knew the truth looked at me with an odd expression. I had a sweet appearance, but everyone in the Cole family knew about my fiery temper deep down.

My second brother, Steve Carson, lunged to hit Karl, but I raised a hand, looking coldly at the man on the ground.

Two years had changed him. He was more composed, his cheeks sunken, and a scar marred his face. It seemed capturing the overseas market had been no easy feat.

"Karl's success in securing the overseas market is cause for celebration," I said calmly. "Father, let them rise."

Dad waved his hand, and someone helped them up.

I grinned, my eyes sweeping over the woman's swollen belly. "Let's arrange for Karl and Karen to wed next Tuesday. We can't keep the child waiting."

Dad choked, turning his face away. My brothers all lowered their heads in silence.

Only two people in the room were relieved. They embraced and cried on each other's shoulders.

Next Tuesday was my birthday and the supposed date of Karl's marriage proposal to me in front of everyone. He would become my husband and be named to take over the family business.

He had returned, and the wedding was to be held. But another bride had come back with him.

I read gratitude and guilt in Karl's eyes, and my heart finally died.

I frowned, raising my voice. "What's wrong? Didn't anyone hear me? Aren't you going to congratulate Karl?"

The servants stiffened at my command, exchanging uncertain glances. Under my cold gaze, they forced out awkward and dry congratulations.

"C-Congratulations, Mr. Boone."

"Congratulations, Mr. Boone and Ms. Brock."

...

Ignoring the pain in my ankle, I turned to leave.

A burning gaze followed me. I didn't have to look to know who it was.

Just as I turned the corner of the corridor, a timid voice called out, "Miss Cole."

It was the woman Karl had been cautiously protecting. She had followed me out at some point, holding something in her hand.

It was a faded, worn-out charm, its edges frayed. This was the same charm I had gotten for Karl after learning about the danger he was facing overseas last year.

I had secretly traveled to a distant church alone, praying earnestly for three days and nights to obtain this charm for Karl.

"This," Karen Brock said with feigned gratitude, "is something Karl gave me before. He said it looked delicate and offered it to amuse me, asking me to wear it for safety."