Chapter 18
No matter how this played out, Daisy shouldn’t have resorted to such a clumsy trick to force them to bring her back. She was still too stubborn, too willful.
Desmond pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his jaw tight. It seemed she’d need another round of lessons.
Meanwhile, Daisy was woken up early by Emma, who insisted on getting her makeup done. Two hours flew by in a blur. As the stylist finished with the last spray, she stepped back, beaming. “Perfect. The bride looks stunning today.”
Standing beside her, Emma gave a proud nod and a thumbs up.
Daisy smiled softly. “Thank you.”
Outside, the buzz of the grand wedding procession could already be heard, signaling the moment had come. Daisy held her breath, her heart pounding. Even though this was her fourth time wearing a wedding dress, nerves twisted in her stomach, her palms slick with sweat. As she was gently lifted, Gordon leaned close and whispered, “Leave it all to me.”
Daisy responded with a soft sound, her voice barely a whisper.
The luxurious wedding car procession rolled steadily toward the Davis Family’s grand mansion. As they arrived at the entrance, the bride and groom stepped out, walking side by side down the long red carpet stretching from the mansion’s doors to the outside.
“US, Daisy!” A stern voice suddenly pierced the air, halting Daisy in her tracks. She turned, her gaze locking with her father’s furious face, flanked by the others. Desmond stepped forward, scanning Daisy in her wedding dress. His expression hardened, but he suppressed the storm inside and grabbed her wrist.
“Daisy, come back with me,” he demanded.
Daisy jerked her arm away, her face cold as ice. “Go back and lock me up in the psychiatric hospital again?” she snapped.
Desmond frowned deeply, regarding her with a look that almost seemed pitying. “Is this really why you ran away? To marry someone else?” He rubbed his brow in frustration, his tone heavy with regret. “If you hadn’t caused so much damage, I never would’ve had to send you to that place.”
Daisy let out a sharp, mocking laugh, her eyes gleaming with derision. She didn’t want to engage with Desmond any further. Instead, she turned, her fingers brushing Gordon’s as she took his hand.
Desmond instinctively moved to stop her, but Gordon was quicker, seizing his wrist before Desmond could react. His voice was low and firm. “Sir, please show some respect.”
Desmond’s eyes, hidden behind his glasses, sharpened in an instant. He locked his cold gaze on Gordon. “Do you know the woman you’re marrying today has already been promised to someone else?”
Heather stepped forward. “Mr. Davis, I’m not sure if Daisy told you, but Desmond is her fiancé, and our families are well aware of it.”
She paused, studying Gordon’s reaction, waiting for some sign of acknowledgment.
Before arriving, Heather had done her homework, secretly investigating Gordon’s background. As she mulled it over, a twinge of jealousy gnawed at her. How was it that Daisy, disfigured as she was, could still be chosen by the young master of the Davis Family? Heather’s hopes would be dashed forever if Daisy really married into the Davis Family. But then, a smug smile crept onto her face. Would Gordon still want her as his bride if he knew Daisy was already promised to someone else?
Heather couldn’t help but laugh quietly to herself, but her amusement faltered when Gordon’s expression remained unreadable.
“So what if she has a fiancé?” he said coolly. “It’s not like she’s being sold to your family. Can’t she back out?”
Desmond’s aura immediately turned icy, his gaze locking onto Gordon with a dangerous edge. A flash of malice sparked in his eyes, and the tension in the air became palpable, as if the very atmosphere crackled with unspoken hostility.
Heather’s expression faltered, struggling to keep her composure. Despite everything, Gordon still refused to let go of Daisy.
Desmond’s gaze returned to Daisy, his voice carrying an edge of disbelief. “Daisy, are you really going to marry this man?” He took a step closer, his words sharp. “Do you even know him?” A sigh of frustration slipped from his lips, and his tone shifted to one of self-indulgent concern. “There’s no need to gamble with your happiness just to spite me.” With an almost pleading look, he added, “I promise you, we’ll marry the moment we get back, alright?”
