Chapter 3 I Will Protect Her

Hazel stood before the patriarch; she was having a court wedding while Nady was walking down the aisle with the man she was supposed to marry; her parents weren't even present.

"Miss Jones," the old man next to her called; apparently he was the butler of the Anderson family and brought the wedding documents, which Mr. Anderson had already signed.

"He must have been so sick to show up," Hazel thought before a paper was shoved at her.

"Please sign the papers," he said, and she nodded and signed the documents.

After all the procedures, she got into the black limousine with the butler.

"Mrs. Anderson, do you need water?" The butler asked while shoving the bottle of water at her. Mrs. Anderson. She wasn't yet familiar with that name, but now it belonged to her. Was it a privilege or a curse?

She took the water and gulped it at once.

"Are you a virgin?" The butler asked, and she splashed out all the contents in her mouth and coughed hard; her eyes had turned completely red as she stared at him in disbelief.

"I am sorry. Mr. Anderson wishes to know."

Hazel was tired and didn't have the energy to ask further questions, so she just replied, "Yes."

Soon, the car parked at the entrance of the Anderson mansion, and the door pulled open. Hazel was hesitant to go down, but she also knew she couldn't stay in the car forever.

Her eyes wandered around the building; it was so big that she felt dizzy just looking at it.

The three-story building, the smaller buildings at the far end, and also the dolphin fountain behind her-that was not up to half of the mansion.

"Please come with me," the butler said, and they walked to the sitting room. Three maids, an older man, and a driver were present.

"These are the maids, the butler, and also the driver. Mr. Anderson won't be back until tomorrow morning, so make yourself comfortable," the butler informed her, and she nodded. It was relieving as she was too tired to meet her supposed 'husband.'

They all greeted her politely, and the maid, Sharon, led her upstairs to her bedroom. She scanned the room, which was furnished with black and white curtains; she didn't check much into it as exhaustion weighed in on her, and she crawled to the bed, which was very soft, had the most comfortable sheets, and had the best scene ever.

With such comfort, she slowly drifted off to sleep.

-

Feeling weird, Hazel slowly opened her eyes and spotted a pair of black eyes staring at her. On the chair at the left end was a man; he sat there dressed in a black suit, with rough black hair.

Hazel had to pinch herself to check if she was dreaming because the man sitting there was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

"So you are the wife?" He asked in a magnetic tone. Hazel slightly nodded and sat up on the bed.

"You are not Nady Jones," he stated, and she fiddled with the hems of her skirt. Was he disappointed?

Of course, he was supposed to be; she wasn't the bride he expected.

"Freshen up, let's have dinner," he said, standing up and walked out of the bedroom.

Hazel's gaze had followed him, and she couldn't believe it.

"Is that Mr. Anderson?" She wondered.

Mr. Anderson was crippled, and the butler said he wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning, so who was this man?

After she stepped out of the bathroom, she found a simple white gown on the bed with everything she needed. Hazel found her way downstairs when she was done.

At the edge of the long dining table sat the strange man she had no idea of. The butler signaled that she takes the seat next to the man, which she did.

Her curiosity was getting out of control, seeing that the man had no intentions of introducing himself, so she took the initiative.

"Who are you?"

He dropped his fork and leaned back on the chair. "You have no idea who I am? He questioned, and she shook her head in denial.

"Coyle Anderson," he introduced, and her brows furrowed. Wasn't he supposed to be crippled, have a scar on his face, and probably cough every five minutes?

"What? Not up to your expectations?" He asked, and she quickly refused, so he wouldn't misunderstand, not up to her expectations? He was way outside her expectations.

Coyle stood up and stood behind her, then he crouched and whispered, "I am very satisfied; you met every of my expectations, Mrs. Anderson."

Then he went up the stairs, and a smile crept onto his lips. His assistant was right; he had told him:

"If you want to marry Hazel Jones, then send an invitation to her younger sister. Their mom is fond of switching things."

Coyle chuckled. He finally married the woman he wanted; Hazel was the only woman he had ever been enticed by.

She might not know him, but he knew her so well, maybe even more than she knew herself.

Coyle took out his phone and dialed his assistant, Jude's, contact, which got connected immediately. "Sir, did you get home safely?"

He was worried as Coyle had rushed to return to the country; he was impatient to meet his wife; he even canceled a meeting worth millions with a foreign company just to get back and glimpse his wife, even when the butler assured him that it was indeed Hazel Jones and not Nady Jones.

"Cancel my meetings tomorrow; I have somewhere important to go with my wife," Coyle said instead, and Jude had a deep frown.

"Sir, I talked to the Chinese CEO, and he agreed to come to the company tomorrow so you could both have a meeting; in fact, he has already booked his flight."

Coyle didn't care; he had been working without a break ever since he turned twenty; he just needed a day off. Of course, it might cost him a few millions, but his wife was more important.

"Cancel everything; my wife needs me," he snorted and ended the call. On the home screen of his phone was a photo of a young, ten-year-old version of Hazel; just like fifteen years ago, she still looked so pretty.

"I had promised to protect you; you think I forgot my promise?"