The Madman My Fiancé Sent

His expression was pure and innocent, full of childlike simplicity.

He didn’t look at all like the volatile, unpredictable madman he usually appeared to be.

A strange feeling flickered through me, and I immediately laughed at myself for thinking it.

My emotions were tangled.

I drew in a deep breath and said softly, “You said you’re willing to marry me. Do you really understand what marriage means?

“It’s not as simple as eating together or playing games.”

I held his dark eyes in mine.

He nodded rapidly with a bright, foolish grin, then pulled me up and spun me in place.

Joy radiated from him so strongly that it reached me.

Smiling, I took his hand, and together we went to register our marriage.

During the photoshoot, he smiled so hard his eyes nearly disappeared.

The photographer reminded him several times not to look so excited.

He reacted warily to the stranger, glaring and lifting his fist as if to strike.

My heart tightened.

I grabbed the hem of his jacket.

Unexpectedly, he pressed his lips together and lowered his hand at once.

His eyes fixed on me—aggrieved yet hopeful—like a child restraining himself while waiting for praise.

Before long, we received our freshly printed marriage certificates.

He stared at the one in my hand, pressing his own against his chest, looking back and forth, unwilling to tear his gaze away.

I guided him into the car and tucked his certificate into his pocket.

“I still have something to do. Go home first and wait for me, alright? I won’t be long.”

His hand tightened over his pocket.

Tension and reluctance filled his expression, but he still murmured a soft “Okay.”

I went to Charlie’s company and headed straight for the top-floor office, then I kicked open the door.

Two entangled figures scrambled apart.

The wide desk was a complete mess, and clothes lay scattered across the floor.

Smudged lipstick stained Charlie’s face, while Crystal’s skin was marked with red patches.

Yet Charlie had told me he was not interested in her.

After five years of dating, I had suffered deeply when I sensed he was cheating.

I even wondered if I was too reserved, too inexperienced to satisfy him.

So I gathered my courage, prepared red wine, roses, and custom lingerie.

But he wrinkled his nose in disgust, as if I were something filthy.

“Have some shame, Kendall. If you want to act like a whore, go work at the nightclubs. Don’t disgust me here!”

He slammed the door and left.

After that, he only grew bolder with Crystal while I drank the entire bottle of wine alone, as I threw both the lingerie and the wine into the trash.

Now, this man who claimed he hated my advances was tangled up with Crystal in his office.

Crystal jumped off the desk, shrugged on her coat, and flashed a proud, mocking smile.

“Shouldn’t you still be at the church with that lunatic? Hehe… you really can’t stay away from Mr. Boyd, can you?”**

Charlie paused, grabbed his clothes, and put them on.

He patted her lightly.

“Enough. Go pour me a glass of water.”

Then he glanced at me.

“I told you not to come to my company without an appointment,” he began impatiently.

“What if someone sees you? How would that look?

“You never had a sense of propriety. I’m used to it, so I won’t even bother arguing.

“Go back on your own. The company is busy. We’ll have the wedding next week.”