Chapter 3
Dafa's POV: Set on Fire
She looked at me. Really looked with that black eyes that seemed like they were holding back a thousand storms.
She was beautiful, even though she was fully covered.
Maybe because she was.
There was something rare about her. Not the kind of beauty that screams for attention, but the kind that draws me in quietly, made me forget what I was about to say. The kind that didn't need to try.
Her scarf framed her face like the night sky cradling the moon, and for a second, I almost forgot to breathe.
I knew her. Alayna Sandra Adams.
I'd seen her before at family gatherings, standing beside her mother, polite and quiet. Of course, I never joined in. I was just like the outsider, the one who watched from afar.
Her parents were close friends with my father and his wife. Even though they weren't as rich as the Haltons, they were still respected in society. The kind my father liked to show off as proof that he still had "humble connections."
But I actually knew these kinds of people. The ones who wanted to use relationships to climb the social ladder.
Maybe that's why she agreed to this arranged marriage so easily.
I'd heard she never continued her studies. So marrying a Halton must've felt like a blessing from heaven, right?
At least, that's what everyone would think.
Just like my stepmother once was.
Once a servant in the Halton household , now the lady of the house.
She played her cards well. Manipulated my father, controlled the business, reshaped the family.
And turned me into a ghost in my own home.
And that's why I stayed away.
Because power in this family never came without blood on the handle.
Then she asked something I never imagined.
Her voice was soft, almost carried away by the night wind, but every word hit me like thunder.
"Will you… marry me?"
For a second, I thought I'd misheard her. Maybe the stress, the heartbreak, the cold air. Maybe all of it had scrambled my brain. But when I looked at her, she wasn't joking.
Her hands were trembling, her eyes steady. Desperate, but clear.
I blinked as I tried to process it. "Are you serious?"
She nodded once. "Yes."
I let out a dry laugh. "You don't even know me."
She took a step closer, her voice trembling but her gaze unwavering.
"But I know you're not like them," she said. "You don't fake your smiles. You don't talk just to be heard. You… you see things. You see people."
That stopped me.
No one ever said that before. Not my father. Not my stepmother. Not anyone who only remembered I existed when they needed a scapegoat.
I looked at her again, and for a moment, I saw it. The pain she hid so well. The kind that didn't scream, just waited quietly to be noticed.
"And that's why you want to marry me?" I asked finally.
She nodded, her lips pressed tight. "Because I'm tired of being surrounded by people who only pretend to care. You might be broken, but at least you're real."
This time, I couldn't laugh.
Because somehow, in her brokenness, she'd just said the one thing I'd been waiting my whole life to hear.
She took a shaky breath. "I won't lie to you. I wanted to escape this marriage with your stepbrother."
I stared at her. She didn't flinch.
"Why?" I asked.
"He's cheating on me. What would be the point of marrying someone like that? Pretending everything's fine, smiling for people who don't even care."
Her voice softened. "If I could I'd just run away. But I made a promise to my mother to repay the Halton family's kindness by marring their son."
She looked up at me, eyes glistening but certain.
"And it doesn't have to be Lev Halton, right?"
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
The woman standing in front of me heartbroken, desperate, yet calm, had just asked me to rewrite both our lives in one sentence.
I should've told her she was crazy.
That this was insane.
That she didn't even know who I really was what kind of mess she was asking for.
But I didn't.
Because something in her voice, something in the way she said "you're not like them" stuck inside my chest and refused to leave.
The night was silent except for the wind brushing past us, carrying the faint scent of rain and jasmine from the garden behind the hall. The engagement lights still flickered in the distance, like ghosts of a celebration that had already died.
"You don't know what you're asking," I said quietly. "If you marry me, maybe you'll lose everything your family planned for you."
She smiled faintly, the kind of smile that hides pain too deep to measure.
"Maybe that's what I want," she said. "To lose everything… and start with something real."
"Look at me. I'm maybe the son of Halton. But I'm not part of this family. They call me a useless son. A jobless man who only shows up when there's trouble," I finished bitterly, the words tasting like rust on my tongue.
"That's who I am to them. The shame they can't erase, the reminder of my father's first mistake."
She didn't look away. Not even when I gave her every reason to.
"It doesn't matter to me," she said softly. "I'm not marrying a family name."
Her words hit harder than I expected. Steady, unshaken, slicing through every wall I'd built.
"As long as you're willing to work hard and be responsible for yourself and your family," she said.
Her voice was quiet, but it carried a kind of strength that didn't need to shout.
For a moment, I didn't know what to say. No one had ever talked to me like that. Not with pity, not with judgment, but with belief.
Like she saw something in me I'd stopped seeing a long time ago.
"You really think it's that simple?" I asked, half smirking, half terrified.
She nodded. "Simple doesn't mean easy. But it's real. And l'd rather build something real with someone who's honest about his flaws than live a perfect lie with someone who isn't."
I looked at her and I realized she wasn't just desperate.
She was brave. The kind of brave that comes from being hurt too many times and still daring to hope again.
The light from the hall flickered behind her, casting a golden outline around her veil. She looked fragile, but her eyes told another story. One of defiance, exhaustion, and quiet fire.
"You're insane," I said under my breath.
"Probably," she murmured. "But so are you for even listening to me."
That made me smile. Like, really smile, for the first time in years.
"Do you even realize what people will say? What my stepmother will do when she finds out?"
"I don't care. Besides, by marrying me, you have a reason to meddle in the family affairs. Don't you think so?"
She said it so easily.
No hesitation. No fear.
Just quiet certainty that somehow burned more fiercely than anger.
I didn't trust her that easily.
Who would garantee that she didn't fool me?
Part of me. Maybe the bigger part, saw this as an opportunity. A scene like this would drag the Halton family's attention back to me for once. They thought I was nothing: the useless son who could be ignored until it was convenient to use. Maybe if I stepped into this mess, they'd finally notice. Maybe it would mean something.
And yes, there was something else, darker and quieter. A hunger I'd kept bottled since my mother had been pushed to away from that house by those same people who now pretended to be saints. I wanted them to feel the cost of what they'd taken from us. If marrying her made the Haltons squirm, exposed their hypocrisy, or tore a little of their prestige away, then fine. Let it burn.
"Alright then," I said, as I stepped closer until her scent; soft jasmine and rain, filled the air between us.
"If you're serious about this… then I'm in."
Her breath caught, her eyes widening in disbelief.
"You mean..."
"I'll marry you," I said. "And when this starts to fall apart, you'd better not regret choosing me over him."
She exhaled, slow and shaky, as if she'd been holding that breath her entire life. Then she whispered,
"I won't."
And that was the moment I knew, we weren't just about to break the rules.
We were about to set them on fire.