Sealed with a Kiss

Without hesitation, Rosalind leaned in. She pressed her soft lips directly against Kaelen’s chiseled features. Her heart raced wildly through the sweet, tentative exchange. This was her first true kiss in two different lifetimes. Being inexperienced, she brushed her mouth against his with a timid, exploratory rhythm, testing the waters of this newfound intimacy.

Kaelen’s body went rigid the second she made contact. His breathing grew heavy and jagged in the confined luxury of the Maybach. His dominant instincts flared. A fierce, silent urge pushed him to take control, wrap a hand around the back of her head, and devour her mouth. He forced himself to restrain that primal urge. He kept his hands anchored to his armrests, allowing her soft touches to dictate the pace of the moment.

Up front in the driver’s seat, Declan caught a glimpse of the intimate scene through the rearview mirror. Pure shock registered on his face. Their ruthless boss was letting a woman claim his lips right in the back seat. A second later, Kaelen opened his eyes and shot an icy, warning glare at the mirror mid-kiss. Terrified by the lethal look, Declan hastily slammed his hand on the console button to raise the privacy divider.

Gently pulling back from the kiss, Kaelen reached up. His thumb traced her jawline and wiped the dewy moisture from her lower lip.

"You’re quite forward, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice laced with a deep, husky vibration.

Rosalind smiled brightly. She unapologetically wrapped her slender arms around his broad shoulders, pulling herself a fraction closer to his chest.

"I’m only this bold with my man, and that was my first kiss."

A faint hint of satisfaction settled deep within Kaelen’s amber eyes.

Upon arriving at the civic center, the usual bureaucratic red tape vanished. Kaelen’s immense societal influence expedited the tedious marriage license process. Staff members stood at attention, rushing the paperwork through channels that normally took hours. They skipped the long lines and the mandatory waiting periods without a single question asked.

Inside the small photo booth, Rosalind beamed radiantly beside Kaelen's stoic, dashing figure. Moments later, they walked out with the official documents in hand.

She held the freshly printed red booklets up to the harsh fluorescent light of the lobby, admiring the metallic stamping on the cover.

"I got myself a hot hubby." She boasted proudly.

"Guess you dig my look." Kaelen replied with a dry, knowing tone.

"You are like a snack." She countered with a grin.

Once they were back in the dim lighting of the Maybach, Rosalind sat mesmerized by the official certificate resting in her hands. The elegant script felt like a tangible anchor to her new reality. She shifted in her leather seat, playfully leaned over, and nipped Kaelen’s large hand with her teeth.

"I need to feel pain to ensure I am not just dreaming."

The sudden, sharp touch of her teeth against his skin sent a violent jolt straight to Kaelen’s groin. His amber eyes darkened with intense, surging lust. The teasing friction ignited an instant, roaring fire in his lower half. He swiftly withdrew his hand from her grip. His jaw clenched tight as a heavy flush of heat pooled in his center. He discreetly reached for a thick wool blanket resting on the seat beside him. He pulled it high over his lap. He needed to conceal the hard, undeniable physical erection straining against the fabric of his tailored trousers.

He struggled to maintain his stoic facade. He forced his breathing to steady, though his voice came out raspy and thick with suppressed arousal.

"It did hurt, so you are not dreaming. It is getting late. Go home and pack your things. I will personally pick you up tomorrow so we can officially live together."

Rosalind noted the sudden shift in his tone but nodded in agreement, unaware of the physical torment she had just inflicted on her new husband.

At quarter past ten, the Maybach idled smoothly outside the grandiose iron gates of the Vance manor. Rosalind opened the heavy car door, but before stepping out into the cool night air, she leaned down. She planted one final, quick parting kiss directly on his lips.

"Catch ya later, babe." She chirped happily before darting up the stone path and disappearing inside the massive house.

A faint, lingering smirk graced Kaelen's usually unreadable face as he touched his own lips. Her casual nickname echoed in his mind.

The privacy screen lowered with a mechanical hum. Declan cleared his throat, unable to hold back his paranoid suspicions regarding Rosalind's true motives. He pointed out that Harrison was the one who brought her back from abroad, suggesting she might just be harboring a grudge and using this sudden marriage to ruin her ex-fiancé's reputation.

Kaelen’s eyes grew cold and sharp in the rearview mirror. He firmly shut down the driver's lingering doubts.

"She is Mrs. Prescott now." Kaelen corrected with an icy finality.

The moment Rosalind stepped through the grand, heavy oak doors into her family home, a heavy ceramic coffee cup flew through the air. It shattered violently against the polished marble floor mere inches from her feet. Sharp shards of porcelain scattered across the entryway. Hot, dark liquid splashed all over the hem of her pristine white lace dress, staining the delicate fabric.

Her grandfather, Roderick, rushed forward frantically. He grabbed her arms to check her legs for burns, his face pale with worry.

Lorraine stood in the center of the living room. Her face twisted into a mask of pure rage.

"She ruined Genevieve! She deserves to die!" Lorraine shrieked at the top of her lungs.

Winston sat passively in his oversized leather armchair. He cowardly puffed on a thick cigar, letting the acrid smoke fill the room while remaining silent during his wife's unhinged outburst. On the velvet sofa, Genevieve buried her face in her hands. She sobbed pitifully, her shoulders shaking with practiced vulnerability.

"Rosie, I can’t have my name dragged through the mud." Genevieve pleaded between fake tears.

Lorraine aggressively closed the distance between herself and Rosalind. She pointed a manicured finger at her eldest daughter's face.

"You must hold a press conference immediately. You will publicly take the blame for Genevieve and Harrison's exposed affair. You must lie and claim you faked those scandalous videos merely to pursue Kaelen!" Lorraine demanded.

Rosalind stared dead-eyed at the toxic family gathered before her. She had spent a lifetime watching her parents unfairly favor her manipulative younger sister. Even though Rosalind worked tirelessly for their approval, they always treated her with cold sarcasm. While Genevieve received beautiful dresses and endless praise, Rosalind was treated like an afterthought. Now, they expected her to jump onto a sword to save the very sister who had shamelessly slept with her fiancé.

Her grip tightened fiercely on the straps of her leather purse.

"The photos can be falsified, but the videos can't. She had no shame. Why should I be the dummy here?" she retorted fiercely.

Lorraine scoffed loud and harsh. Her features contorted with sneering arrogance.

"You are worthless, yesterday's news. When this calms down, no one will care about you. But Genevieve's shining star cannot be tarnished!" Lorraine insisted.

Rosalind let out a bitter, mocking snort. She was done hoping for a scrap of decency from these people. She unzipped her bag and pulled out the newly minted red marriage license. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it onto the glass coffee table. The booklets landed with a soft thud.

"Well, cheers to Kaelen and me. I’m moving out tomorrow."

Absolute shock silenced the chaotic room. Winston choked on his cigar smoke, descending into a fit of rough coughing. Genevieve dropped her hands from her face, her fake tears drying up instantly as she stared blankly at the little red books.

Roderick reached out with trembling hands. He picked up the marriage license and examined the photograph inside. He broke the heavy tension in the room.

"You make a cute couple in the photo." He noted softly.

Hearing the undeniable confirmation of the marriage, Lorraine snapped out of her daze. She lunged forward toward the coffee table. Her eyes gleamed with a sudden, repulsive greed that replaced her previous fury. The prospect of having Kaelen Prescott as a son-in-law wiped away her anger over the scandal.

"Married? What about the wedding gift? How many shares are you snagging from Prescott Group? How many deals are they giving Vance Group each year?" Lorraine rattled off the questions, practically salivating at the thought of tapping into the Prescott fortune.

Rosalind smiled serenely. She looked her greedy mother dead in the eye, savoring the bitter reality of the moment.

"I am not asking for a dime."

Lorraine's face flushed a violent, apoplectic crimson with rage. The sheer disappointment of losing out on a massive payout shattered her brief moment of opportunistic joy. She raised her hand high above her shoulder, ready to physically strike her daughter across the face.

"What? You are an idiot!" Lorraine screamed.