The Groom They Underestimated

Trevor's POV “Yeah, exactly! Marrying into the Youngs is every man’s dream in this city. Who cares whose last name the kid takes?” The room buzzed with whispers and laughter. The more they talked, the smugger Mr. Watts looked. “You hear that?” he sneered. “You’re just some broke nobody with no power, no background, and you’re talking about dignity? What a joke.” Even so, their mockery barely fazed me. In fact, it almost made me laugh. Sure, the Youngs were one of the wealthiest families in the capital; no one could deny that. But when it came to legacy and influence, they were nothing compared to our family. Money meant nothing when it was stacked against real power. I leveled my gaze at him. “Mr. Watts, I’ll warn you one last time. Step aside. Now. Or deal with the consequences.” Maybe it was the edge in my tone, or the energy that slipped through, but for a split second, his smirk faltered. “You—you little punk! You dare threaten me?” He fumbled for his phone, then threatened, “Fine! I’ll call Miss right now!” But I didn't feel anything. I simply shrugged, spreading my hands lazily. “Go ahead.” A few minutes later, the dressing room door swung open with a loud bang. A tall young woman then swept in, surrounded by bodyguards. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor. “Eric,” she snapped, her voice crisp and cold. “You can’t even handle something this simple? What am I paying you for?” I turned toward her and asked, “So, you’re Felicity Young, my fiancée?” I studied her carefully, and I'd admit, she was stunning. Nearly five-foot-seven, her white wedding gown hugged her curves perfectly. If not for that icy look in her eyes, she could’ve passed for a goddess. “Miss Young,” I said politely, “since it’s our first time meeting, allow me to properly introduce myself. I'm Trevor Dalton. I came from a military—” “No need,” she cut me off mid-sentence, flicking her hand dismissively. “I have zero interest in who you are.” I had planned to introduce my background, maybe give her a reason to drop that arrogance. But apparently, this woman wasn’t the type to listen. The way she looked at me said it all. In her eyes, I was just another gold-digging man chasing her family’s fortune. “Miss Young,” I said calmly, “I understand this marriage was arranged by our parents, and that we’ve never met before. But cutting me off before I can even finish a sentence? Don’t you think that’s a little disrespectful?” Her face darkened instantly. “Disrespectful?” she snorted. “Mr. Dalton, do yourself a favor and look in the mirror. Do you really think you deserve my respect?” She then gave a derisive laugh and tossed her hair. “Let me make one thing clear. If it weren’t for my father forcing me to marry you, I wouldn’t even glance your way. You’re nothing but a useless freeloader who lives off women.” By now, her voice had risen, and she turned to address everyone in the room, making sure they all heard. “And one more thing, don’t even think that after the wedding you’ll be part of my family. Without my permission, you don’t get to touch me. Not even once!” Her words were sharp enough to slice through the air. But I met her glare without flinching, my tone flat and emotionless. “If you hate marrying me that much,” I said quietly, “then why force yourself?” Then, after a brief pause, I added, “Why don’t we just call off the wedding? It’d be better for both of us.” I genuinely meant it, no hostility, no ego, just a clean break. But she didn’t see it that way. To her, my calmness was an insult. Her expression twisted with contempt as she snapped, “You arrogant nobody. Don’t play that ‘hard to get’ game with me. I see right through you.”

Trevor's POV “Do you have any idea how many men in this city are dying to marry me?” she proudly mentioned. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Miss Young, I don’t really care what other men think. I just believe you and I aren’t a good match. As for Mr. Young, don’t worry. I’ll explain everything to him myself.” The moment I said that, the entire dressing room erupted in disbelief. “Oh my god, did he just say he wants to call off the wedding with the Youngs?” “No way! Miss Young is the dream woman of every man in the capital, and he’s turning her down?” “If it were me, I’d be laughing in my sleep if I got to marry her!” Their whispers grew louder, but I didn’t care. In my world, marriage wasn’t about social rank or family wealth. It was about compatibility. And clearly, this proud, self-absorbed princess in front of me was not someone I could get along with. I could still recall how her father, Chairman Gregory Young of the Young Group, bowed and scraped in front of my grandfather not long ago. In less than half an hour, the man’s pristine white shirt was drenched in sweat, terrified of saying the wrong thing. He probably still had no idea that the powerful alliance he’d begged for was about to be ruined by his own daughter. “Trevor!” Felicity’s voice trembled with rage. “I’ll ask you one last time. Are you really breaking off this engagement?” I lifted my head, meeting her gaze head-on, my tone firm and unwavering. “Absolutely.” The room went dead silent. She clearly hadn’t expected me to throw away the chance to marry into one of the most powerful families in the city. Her face flushed red, a mix of anger and humiliation. Before she could think of what to say, her assistant stepped forward. “Don’t worry, Miss. You shouldn’t be upset over trash like him. You’re better off without some useless freeloader.” Felicity hesitated for a moment, biting her lip. “But… the invitations have already been sent out. If I suddenly cancel the wedding, how am I supposed to show my face after this?” Mr. Watts gave me a sly look before turning back to her and replying, “Miss, do you remember Mr. North from the NorthStar Group?” At the mention of that name, Felicity’s eyes immediately lit up. “Eric, you mean…?” He nodded eagerly, almost trembling with excitement. “Yes! NorthStar just completed a major round of funding on Wall Street, and Mr. North, as the sole heir, is now worth tens of billions. This could be the perfect opportunity for the Youngs to break into the international market!” Felicity lowered her head, her cheeks turning pink. “But… would he really marry me?” Mr. Watts pounded his chest confidently. “Of course! In fact, I just got word that he’s already on his way here!” As I watched the scene unfold, everything finally clicked into place. So that ridiculous “marital agreement” wasn’t from Felicity herself; it was his doing. The assistant’s real goal wasn’t protecting her dignity; it was securing a business marriage between the Youngs and NorthStar Group. Sadly, the poor woman didn’t even realize she was being used like a pawn. “Enough,” I said coldly. “Miss Young, the engagement between us is over. But don’t you think bringing in a new groom at the last minute is going a bit too far?” Then I pointed straight at her assistant. “I just want to know one thing. Whose idea was that ‘marital agreement’?” Observing Felicity, she might be spoiled and arrogant, but she wasn’t stupid enough to come up with something that twisted. There was clearly more going on beneath the surface.

Trevor's POV Felicity's eyes then flickered to the assistant at her side, and that little movement confirmed my suspicion. “Whose idea it was has nothing to do with you,” she snapped. “A real man keeps his word. You want to go back on your words now?” I raised an eyebrow and let out a short, cold laugh. “I’m not. I just think someone’s been trying to drive a wedge between me and you, Miss Young.” Then I turned toward Mr. Watts as I continued, “Don’t you think all this looks staged?” I’d hoped to appeal to a little common sense, at least for the sake of her father, but she wouldn’t have it. “Trevor,” she snarled, “I warn you: stop stirring trouble.” “You were the one swearing up and down you’d cut ties with me,” she continued, venom thick in her tone. “Why are you suddenly having second thoughts?” Her words stung. Honestly, I felt a flicker of disappointment. The Youngs had ruled the market for years. How did they end up raising a daughter so shallow? “Get out,” Mr. Watts barked, leaning in with raw contempt. “You’re not welcome here. Beat it.” I smiled faintly. “Isn’t that enough? You’ve gotten what you wanted. Why keep up the act? The ceremony’s starting soon. Shouldn’t your boss be here by now?” Just then, the dressing room door was pushed open, and then a man about my age swaggered in like he owned the place. “Miss Young, will you marry me?” he asked loudly. “Mr. North, you're finally here!” Mr. Watts excitedly said. As such, the room rose as one to greet him, the NorthStar heir. "Judging by that attitude, you must be the one really calling the shots, huh?" I remarked. He stalked toward me with a predator’s ease and complimented, “Kid, gotta hand it to you. You’re clever.” “But being too clever can backfire,” he soon added, voice oily with amusement. He carried himself with more arrogance than even Mr. Watts.\ Even so, I just gave him a single cool look and then turned my gaze away from him. “Been waiting a long time for today, right?” I said. He nodded, pity crossing his face as if I’d been deprived of something. “Mr. Dalton, I hear you refused to sign that marital agreement? What a shame.” He tapped out a cigarette and smiled. “You just lost your one shot at joining the upper class.” I shrugged and let out a light, easy laugh. “If that’s what it takes, I’m fine with walking away.” He blinked in surprise. “You’re not angry at all? I practically stole your fiancée.” I waved a hand, still smiling. “Why would I? In fact, you did me a favor. If you hadn’t stepped in, I’d have no idea how to explain any of this to Mr. Young.” With every exchange, I kept control, while the NorthStar heir’s face had gone pale with frustration. “Then get out of here before I make someone teach you a lesson,” he snarled. I cocked an amused smile and waved him off. “Mr. North, don’t rush. Before I go, I want to call my grandfather.” With that, I pulled out my phone in front of everyone. “Hello? Grandpa? It’s me, Trevor.” The moment he heard my voice, Grandpa chuckled warmly. “Well, my dear grandson! What’s got you calling at this hour? Have you met your future bride yet? What do you think of her?” I glanced meaningfully at Miss Young across from me, then gave a cold, mocking smile. “Actually, Grandpa, that’s exactly why I called. I was going to tell you that your future granddaughter-in-law’s been stolen.” As soon as those words left my mouth, Grandpa’s furious voice practically exploded through the phone. “What did you just say?!”