Accidental Marriage with the CEO: Unwanted Bride-Chapter 58: Getting married

Meanwhile, far from the chaos, Syres stood silently on the back deck, his gaze fixed on the endless sea. His hands were tucked gently into his pockets, and his body swayed ever so slightly with the wind. The breeze played with his black hair, tousling it effortlessly, making him look even more striking, as if carved from the very storm he stared into.

Hidden behind a pole, Eve watched him quietly. Her heart clenched tighter with each passing second, falling even more in love with the man who had told her over and over again how much he despised her. How cruel could fate be? If only she weren’t a Blackthorn. But then again, if she weren’t, would she have even met him? That thought alone twisted inside her like a blade.

She had grown up motherless, missing out on the warmth of a mother-daughter bond most of her friends had. And now, despite her family’s wealth, power, and influence, she couldn’t even have the one person her heart longed for most.

With a sigh, Eve glanced down at the message still glowing on her phone screen. She shut her eyes as the pain welled up again, this time sharper than before. Could she really move on from Syres? Could she marry someone else and live a life shadowed by regret?

Taking a deep breath, she whispered words of courage to herself. Just one more risk. One more try before she accepted her fate.

Stepping out from behind the pole, her heels tapped softly against the wooden floor as she slowly approached him. She stopped just two steps behind.

"What do you want?" Syres asked, his voice low and distant. He didn’t turn.

She wasn’t surprised. Somehow, he always sensed her presence before she made herself known. It used to startle her, but now she assumed he had simply grown used to her lingering, watching. Maybe he has learned the subtle signs that gave her away.

"I..." she began, but her voice faltered. She swallowed hard, then lifted her chin.

"I wanted to tell you something," she managed. At that, he finally turned around to face her, his brows lifting ever so slightly as their eyes met.

Her breath caught.

Those light blue eyes, icy, unreadable, stole her composure all over again. She remembered the first time she saw them, how effortlessly they had drawn her in, how she had fallen so foolishly, so recklessly in love. Even after all the heartache, she knew deep down that if life gave her the chance to choose again... she would still choose him.

"Cat got your tongue?" He asked, snapping her out of her daze.

"Oh! I...I am sorry. I just... zoned out," she said quickly, her words tumbling out. "I didn’t mean to..."

"Just get on with it," he cut her off, his tone dismissive, like he couldn’t wait to be rid of her.

She bit her lip, then nodded, pressing forward.

"Right... ermm, I came to tell you that I will be getting married soon," she said, her fingers fidgeting nervously. "My father’s family has been pushing it... and they have found me someone they believe is a good match."

She kept her eyes on him, desperate for a flicker of emotion. Anything. Something to hold onto.

One second... two... three.

But he didn’t flinch. He just stared at her blankly, as though she were no more than a stranger, a shadow passing through his day.

Still, Eve clung to a shred of hope. Syres had never been expressive. His silence didn’t necessarily mean he didn’t care... right? His words, those mattered more. They had to. Please, say something. Anything.

"So?" He finally spoke, and her face fell, just like that, as if a rug had been ripped from beneath her hopes. Her hands dropped to her sides, limp and helpless, as the last bit of light in her eyes flickered out.

"I... I ju...just said I was getting married," she stammered, forcing the words out again as if he hadn’t heard her properly. "I am soon to be wed to another man." She stressed each word, praying he would stop her, interrupt, protest, anything.

"Congratulations," he said flatly. "If you want wedding gifts delivered, my PA will take care of that. You didn’t need to personally announce your wedding to me."

Her heart twisted violently in her chest, panic surging up her throat. Was this truly the end? Was this how it all faded?

"Do you really... not love me at all?" She asked, her voice trembling. "Once I am married, I will belong to another man. There will be no second chance... no future for us." Her voice cracked as she said it, the pain finally spilling free.

"There was never going to be a future between us, Eve," he replied, his voice as cold as the wind off the sea. "You would die single if not for this other man. Your marriage is a blessing to me, I finally get to be rid of you."

A single tear slipped down her cheek, trailing the devastation written across her face. Her chest ached like it was being crushed from the inside.

"Why?" She cried, her voice rising, desperate. "Why can’t you look past my name, past what I am, and see me for me?" She jabbed a finger at her heart, pleading for something, anything.

He met her gaze, unflinching. "You would have to die to change what you are. Can you do that?"

"Yes!" She cried without hesitation. "I would do anything for you! Do you want proof that I have renounced the Blackthorns? Do I have to kill my own brother to make you believe me?!" She shouted, her voice shaking with madness and heartbreak.

For a moment, something passed across Syres’s face, surprise, sorrow, maybe even guilt, but it was gone as quickly as it came. His mask returned.

"Not even the death of your entire family would restore what I have lost," he said with finality. "Move on. Marry whoever they have chosen for you. And stop wasting your time dreaming about a future that will never exist. You are not my type of woman. You never were. And you never will be."

She stared at him, shattered. "What if he doesn’t treat me right?" She whispered. "Can you bear seeing me hurt...used by another man? I know you, Syres. You used to get angry when someone even looked at me the wrong way. You would lose it if someone laid a hand on me."

Her voice cracked again. "Stop lying to yourself. Stop pretending you don’t care. I am exhausted, I am tired of begging you!" Her arms flailed in frustration, her heart laid bare.

"Then stop begging," he replied sharply. "Would I hurt someone I actually care about?" He asked, and with that, he turned to walk away.

But before he could take more than a few steps, she ran forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him from behind. Her grip trembled as tears poured down her face, soaking into his shirt.

"Please," she sobbed. "Please don’t let them take me away. I don’t want to marry someone else. They will come for me tomorrow, and I will be gone... gone from your life. I love you, Syres. I love you," she wept, her voice muffled against his back.

His entire body tensed.

Something inside him cracked at the sound of her sobs. He could feel her pain seep into his bones like a poison he couldn’t fight. And the truth was, he didn’t want to fight it. She was innocent. She had no hand in the horrors her family caused. She was just a girl who happened to be born with the wrong name.

But what could he do? Pretend the past didn’t happen? Pretend she didn’t carry the blood of the people who destroyed everything he loved?

He clenched his fists.

"Let go of me," he said, low and cold.

She shook her head against him, refusing.

"Please..." she whispered. "Don’t let them take me."

But he remained still, unmoving, unyielding, as her world broke apart behind him.

"No. I don’t want to," she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation, her arms locked tighter around his waist as if letting go would rip her soul apart.

Syres’s jaw tightened.

Without a word, he placed his hands over hers, gently, almost painfully so and peeled them off him one finger at a time. Her grip gave way, helpless against his quiet strength, and she collapsed to the cold ground with a soft, broken gasp.

He didn’t even look back.

She watched his retreating figure through blurred eyes, her body too numb to move, too hollow to breathe. But just before he disappeared, she found her voice again, weak and shattered.

"Please... don’t come to my wedding. Let me keep at least a sliver of hope."

He said nothing. Not a glance, not a pause, just footsteps vanishing into the distance.

Alone now, Eve curled up on the cold floor like a discarded doll. And then, finally, she broke.

The sobs came in waves, loud, ragged, and heartbreaking. Her cries echoed across the empty deck as if the world itself were mourning with her. She screamed, she begged for silence, but there was no answer. No arms to hold her. No voice to tell her it would be okay.

An hour passed. Maybe two. She didn’t care.

The rain came like punishment from the heavens, sharp and cold. It soaked through her dress, her hair, her skin, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t. She just sat there, letting the sky cry with her.

"I knew it," she muttered through gritted teeth, and then a bitter laugh burst from her lips, dark, mad, hollow. "Of course... of course I would never be enough."

Her laughter turned crazed as the rain drenched her completely. "Even God’s telling me I will never be happy," she whispered to no one. "What other sign do I need?"

She pressed her forehead to the wet wooden deck, still shaking from the cold and heartbreak. Now what? Marry Reuben, a man who wore cruelty like a crown. A man known for bruising women and discarding them like trash. She could tell someone... But who?

Roman would do anything to end the marriage but the moment she disowned him as her brother, she swore not to have anything to do with him. Silas was powerless and telling him would only get Roman involved, she didn’t want that.

And Syres? Syres was her only lifeline, and he let her down.

She lay flat on her back, the rain crashing against her skin like a thousand tiny knives. Her chest heaved with a mixture of laughter and sobs, her mind unraveling at the edges. She had given everything... and still, she was unwanted.

Meanwhile...

Far from the storm, Syres stood by the wide glass window of his private study, staring at the gray sky. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular. But his silence was loud, deafening even to himself.

"She’s still outside... Should I call her brothers?" Jude, his assistant, asked gently. "She’s been under the rain for a long time."

Syres didn’t blink. "No. Leave her."

"But sir... it’s getting worse. She could fall ill."

A heavy pause.

Then finally, through clenched teeth: "Yes."

The word was barely audible but enough to make Jude exhale in relief.

Just as Jude turned to leave, Syres added, "Bring me an ashtray. I forgot one."

Jude gave a quick nod and left.

Syres’s eyes dropped to the nearly finished cigarette sitting exposed on his desk. The ashes had scattered, uneven and messy. It reminded him of a voice from long ago...

’You really should keep ashtrays everywhere, your office, your car, even home. Flicking ashes everywhere isn’t hygienic, you know.’

She had said it with a smile, teasing but sincere. Back then, he would ignore her. Always ignored her. She would be cleaning up his messes, literal and emotional, even after sleepless nights spent in the company of other women.

He hated her for that. Not because she did too much, but because she cared for a man who didn’t value her. He hated how loyal she was. How fiercely she loved him even when he did nothing to deserve it. She would become a ghost in her own life just to be present in his.

And still, she always smiled.

If he hadn’t pushed her away, she would have placed the ashtray in front of him right now, without him even asking. She always knew what he needed before he did.

Now, she was broken, soaked, alone under a punishing sky, and he had let her stay that way.

"You need to forget me," he whispered, his voice cracking.

He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palm.

Because if he reached for her now... he might never let go and ruin her life.

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