Accidental Marriage with the CEO: Unwanted Bride
Chapter 59: A gem

Chapter 59: A gem

The following morning, Patricia woke up alone.

The silence in the room felt heavier than usual, almost suffocating. Her eyes scanned the space, hoping Roman was back but there was still no sign of him. Where could he be?

A knot twisted in her stomach. She hadn’t seen anyone aside from Kay, who came in briefly to give her quiet updates. No Roman. No Zara. No answers.

She wanted to call Zara, to hear her voice and maybe find comfort, but Silas had told her about the state her friend was in. Just hearing the pain in his voice when he described it had made her chest tighten. Zara had always been the one to show up, always carrying Patricia’s burdens like they were her own. Now, her world had collapsed, and Patricia refused to be a selfish friend. Not now.

If it hadn’t been for Silas’s firm insistence that she stay put, she would have already been out there, searching for Zara.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door creaked open.

"Miss Patricia, I am here to escort you. Mr. Roman awaits you," a maid announced with practiced politeness.

Patricia frowned. After vanishing all night without a word, he was suddenly ready to summon her? Like she was one of his many subordinates?

"Okay," she muttered. She didn’t have the strength to argue. Not yet. She would save her questions for when she saw him.

As they walked through the winding halls, she noticed the direction they were heading, towards the main deck.

That was odd. No one went to the main deck this early unless something was happening. A gathering? An event?

Her heart slammed against her ribcage as the realization hit her. The introduction. No, no, it couldn’t be today. Not like this. She wasn’t ready.

Her breath hitched.

She tried to steady herself, whispering, It’s just an introduction. Just people. You can handle this. But the more she said it, the less she believed it. Her steps slowed as panic crept in. These weren’t just "people" they were powerful, judgmental, and elite. And worse... strangers.

The maid suddenly halted near the entrance to the main deck.

"You may proceed from here, Miss Patricia," she said, then turned and walked off before Patricia could respond.

Alone now.

Patricia stood frozen, staring at the crowd gathered around the long dining table. Her palms were sweaty. Her heart thundered. She wasn’t part of their world, she had no idea how to act, what to say, how to breathe among them.

"You can do this," she whispered to herself, forcing her legs forward. "They are just people..."

Her eyes darted across the deck.

"People you don’t know," she added softly, and her confidence wavered again.

Even if her own family were here, she doubted they would offer her support. They would toss her to the wolves without blinking. So yes, strangers. Every single one of them.

But it was now or never.

Swallowing her fear, she took a step forward... then another... until she was walking, slowly but steadily toward the table.

She quickly scanned the seating arrangement and felt a flicker of relief. It looked like they were seated with their families. Her gaze settled on Roman’s side. Silas, Roman... and Eve’s chair noticeably empty.

Her throat tightened.

She approached cautiously, trying not to draw attention to herself, but Michelle spotted her first, and wasted no time.

"Well, well. Look who it is... the miracle doctor," Michelle sneered, loud enough for several heads to turn.

Patricia felt her cheeks burn, but before she could respond, Roman shot Michelle a look so sharp it sliced through her smugness. She fell silent immediately.

"Come over here," Roman said, his voice low but firm.

Patricia obeyed, her legs stiff as she walked to him and took her seat beside him. She could feel their eyes, dozens of them. Curious, judging, weighing her like merchandise at an auction.

She kept her gaze fixed on the table.

If she looked up, she might lose every ounce of courage she had left.

"This is my wife," Roman declared, his voice echoing across the open space. "Patricia Blackthorn. She will be regarded with the same respect that is given to me. Any rumors, pictures, or whisperings about us will be met with consequences. This is not a discussion."

Silence fell like a heavy curtain.

Shock rippled through the crowd, expressions contorting from disbelief to intrigue. Patricia felt the air shift, like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and replaced with judgment.

"How did you get married and none of us were invited to the wedding?" Asked an elderly woman from the far end of one of the family tables, her tone more accusatory than curious.

"There was no wedding," Roman answered firmly, without a hint of hesitation. "It was an unplanned marriage, so no ceremony was held."

Patricia flinched.

Unplanned.

There it was. A polite way of saying arranged, forced, loveless. Her stomach turned as whispers broke out like wildfire. She felt smaller, suddenly exposed. Her fingers curled tightly on her lap. No one here needed further clarification, they already understood.

"So you didn’t marry her out of love?" Another voice chimed in, pressing further, the question like a needle straight to Patricia’s chest.

She froze. Her eyes locked on Roman, holding her breath. This was the moment. Would he lie for her?

"Yes," he said bluntly.

The air left her lungs.

"And that means Michelle still has a chance?" The same voice probed, emboldened by his response. "You could marry your true lover later, yes?"

Patricia’s head dropped slightly, her cheeks burning.

Roman’s expression didn’t shift. "Any news that does not come directly from me should be dismissed. That includes speculation."

The person fell silent, but the damage was done. Patricia felt every pair of eyes digging into her, some with sympathy, most with amusement or disdain.

Then Lisa, her stepmother, spoke up, her voice laced with the kind of faux wisdom that made Patricia’s skin crawl.

"It’s not like it’s anything new. Mirabel’s mother left her arranged marriage for her lover eventually. Nothing under the sun is truly shocking anymore. People will move on."

All heads turned toward Lisa, the ripple of gossip now having a new direction. But Patricia barely registered it. Because that’s when she saw Clara seated beside Lisa. Her sister’s face was puffy, her eyes red-rimmed. She was dressed modestly, uncharacteristically so for someone who prided herself on being a walking scandal. She was quiet. Too quiet. Something wasn’t right.

Patricia’s gaze flicked briefly to Roman.

Did he do something?

Her mind raced, recalling vague memories from the night before, his sharp voice ordering Clara to be taken away, and the way Clara looked like she was about to pass out. She hadn’t grasped it then, but now...

And the maid.

The one who hurt her. Roman had that one removed, too. Patricia hadn’t questioned it much, but now... she was curious.

The thought unsettled her. She turned toward her own family instinctively, toward the woman she never thought she had look at again without hatred.

Her mother.

Their eyes met. And instead of turning away, Patricia held the gaze.

She didn’t feel rage. Not anymore. Not pity, either. Just a quiet, unfamiliar warmth. She hadn’t forgiven her yet, not entirely. But in this strange moment, she didn’t feel alone. She saw someone who had endured too. Survived.

Lowering her gaze, a small smile tugged at her lips.

At least her mother was safe.

"When do you both plan to have a child?" Mirabel’s mother asked suddenly, slicing through the fragile calm like glass underfoot.

Roman answered, his tone unreadable. "When we are both ready."

Mirabel’s mother nodded but didn’t stop there. "Then don’t rush it. Not unless you are sure of your feelings for her."

The table tensed. A few people scoffed under their breath.

"Now a cheater gives marital advice?" Someone muttered from the crowd, loud enough for everyone to hear.

All eyes snapped to Mirabel’s mother, her composure faltering under the weight of judgment. Whispers swirled again.

Roman stood, brushing off his jacket, clearly done with the circus. "We will be taking our leave now."

But before he could take a step, a cool voice interrupted.

"Leaving so soon?" Syres rose from his seat, that familiar calm laced with mischief. "Since when do we rush off after introductions just because we have gained a wife?"

The air changed again. Tension. Interest. Amusement.

And Patricia couldn’t help but wonder, was this the start of something bad?

"The game hunt begins in an hour," Syres announced, his eyes resting on Roman as he finished. "Each person will receive a paper with their partner’s name on it. Two people per group. The group that finds the red cloth first wins."

"What island are we using this time?" Someone asked from the crowd.

"That one," Syres replied, pointing toward the distance.

They all turned, a mix of gasps and murmurs rising as an island slowly came into view across the water.

"As usual, the older members will stay behind while the younger ones participate in the hunt," Syres added. "Papers will be handed out shortly. You have an hour to get ready."

He nodded at Jude, who immediately began distributing the slips of paper.

Patricia received hers with a furrowed brow. She hesitated, then unfolded it, and froze, her mouth parting slightly in disbelief.

What are the odds?

"Who is it?" Roman asked, and her subtle flinch gave him all the answer he needed.

"My wife and I won’t be participating in the game," Roman announced sharply. He grabbed Patricia gently by the wrist and started to walk away, only to be blocked by Syres, who stepped in with casual confidence.

"Oh? Any reason why?" Syres asked, eyes gleaming with unspoken intent. He knew exactly what he was doing, Roman would never allow whispers to spread about Patricia, especially if they involved Syres.

"Whatever the reason is, it’s our right to opt out," Roman said flatly, attempting to move past.

But Syres wouldn’t budge. "Come on, Roman. Let everyone see your partner. If there’s nothing to hide, then we all deserve to know. Don’t we?" He said, raising his brows with a smirk.

"No!" Patricia blurted out, voice trembling and loud enough to draw more attention.

Now all eyes were locked on them.

"Now I really want to know who they picked," someone muttered, and several others murmured in agreement.

Roman leaned in close to Syres, his voice low but sharp. "What are you doing?"

Syres smiled, unbothered. "Just stirring the pot. Why? Does it burn you that I am paired with her? Is that why you are suddenly backing out of the divorce deal you made to her? Because it aches to see me with her?"

Roman’s jaw tightened. "You couldn’t even make my sister happy. I am not worried."

Syres’s eyes narrowed. "We both know your sister and I were doomed the moment you killed my brother."

Silence fell instantly. Their standoff sucked the air out of the space.

Before tensions could rise further, Patricia stepped in, her voice steady despite the pressure. "We will participate. There’s no need to make a scene."

Roman turned to her, his expression dark with disappointment. She could see it in his eyes, he felt betrayed.

But she didn’t flinch. If people found out she had been paired with Syres and refused to play, the rumors would only worsen. And Syres... She still didn’t understand his motives. One thing was certain though, he approached her on purpose. It didn’t feel like romance. It felt calculated.

If this had anything to do with the conversation she overheard between Roman and Eve, then it made sense. Syres wanted to disrupt things. And she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

"You found yourself a gem," Syres said to Roman with a playful smirk, his gaze flicking to Patricia. "She’s a lot more entertaining than you are." Then he winked.

Patricia’s fists clenched at her sides. If she didn’t have to keep her composure, she would have leapt at him right then and there.