Flash Marriage To The Secret Chairman

Evangelina Vazquez stared at the vintage Rolex on her wrist, the second hand ticking past the twelve for the eighth time.

Forty minutes.

The familiar churning started in her stomach, that acid burn of anxiety she'd spent five years trying to ignore. She pressed her palm flat against her abdomen, feeling the structured wool of her trench coat against her skin, and forced her spine straighter against the marble column.

The electronic screen above the counter blared its mechanical voice.

"Number four-seven-three, please proceed to window six."

Her number.

Evangelina's breath hitched. Around her, couples laughed and leaned into each other, their joy carving sharp edges into her solitude. She walked toward the counter anyway, her heels clicking against the municipal building's floor with the precision of a metronome.

"Could I have five more minutes?" The smile she offered the clerk felt like it might crack her face. "My fiancé is stuck in traffic."

The clerk's eyes softened with pity. "Of course, ma'am. I'll hold your spot."

Evangelina's phone vibrated in her Birkin bag, a low, insistent hum against her hip. She dug for it, her fingers clumsy, and saw the name flash across the screen.

Darrien.

She answered before the second ring finished.

"Where are you?" Her voice came out steadier than she felt.

Static. Then the background noise bled through-beeping monitors, rushed footsteps, the particular chaos of a Manhattan emergency room.

Evangelina's heart plummeted to the base of her throat.

"Evangelina." Darrien's tone carried that practiced patience, the one that always made her feel like a child throwing tantrums. "I can't make it. Jenelle's having a severe panic attack. I'm at Mount Sinai with her."

"Today." The word scraped out of her. "Darrien, today is-"

"I know what day it is." His voice sharpened, that blade of condescension she'd learned to duck. "But my sister is in crisis. I thought you'd understand. I thought you had empathy."

Evangelina's fingers went cold around the phone. She opened her mouth to remind him that Jenelle wasn't his sister, that she'd been his stepsister for exactly eleven months, that they'd been engaged for five years and this was their appointment to become legal-

"You're making this about you," Darrien interrupted. "Again. Maybe you should take this time to reflect on why everything has to be a production with you."

The nurse's voice cut through the background, calling for family members of a patient in bay four.

"I have to go," Darrien said. "We'll talk when you're calmer."

The line went dead.

The dial tone drilled into Evangelina's ear, a mechanical scream that matched the ringing in her skull. She stood frozen at the counter, the clerk's concerned face blurring at the edges.

Someone bumped her shoulder. Hard.

"Sorry-so sorry-" A young man, holding his new wife's hand, his face flushed with apology and champagne and happiness.

Evangelina nodded. She couldn't speak.

She turned. Her heels struck marble. Each step echoed like something breaking.

Her phone buzzed again. A notification from Jenelle