Elizabeth’s father was determined to marry her off to one of his wealthy choices, but none of them felt right to her. Frustrated, she blurted out that she’d rather marry the first man she saw. When that stranger appeared, she instantly regretted her words, realizing how reckless her decision might have been.

Elizabeth stood in the grand, glittering mansion, the soft clink of champagne glasses and murmurs of idle conversation filling the air.

The room was packed with elegantly dressed men and women, their smiles polished and practiced, their laughter hollow. The falseness of it all made her stomach churn. These people, with their perfect appearances and shallow words, were everything she despised.

Her father, Richard, fit in like a puzzle piece, always confident, always at ease. She glanced at him, wondering how they could be so different.

Elizabeth’s mind drifted to her childhood, days spent running barefoot in the garden, laughing with the gardener’s son instead of wearing gowns and pearls. She sighed heavily. Just then, Richard approached, a man beside him.

“Elizabeth, darling,” Richard said, stepping closer with a smile. “I brought you some company. You looked bored.” He motioned to the man beside him, who stood tall and well-dressed.

Elizabeth forced a polite smile and extended her hand. “Hello,” she said, expecting a handshake. Instead, the man took her hand and kissed it. Elizabeth felt her stomach twist and pulled her hand back quickly, hiding her irritation.

“This is Tom,” Richard said proudly. “He owns a large company. I think you two would make a great couple.”

Elizabeth blinked, unsure if she heard right. “What?” she asked, looking from Tom to her father.

Richard ignored her confusion. “Excuse us,” he said to Tom, guiding Elizabeth a few steps away. His voice lowered, but his words were sharp. “I’ve told you already. You need to marry if you want your inheritance. I’m not getting any younger. I want grandchildren.”

Elizabeth stared at him, her heart racing. “Marriage? I’m only 23! And he’s what, 40?”

Richard sighed, keeping his calm. “Don’t make a scene. Tom is a good man. He’s only 36.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “A good man? His company got sued for dumping chemicals into the air!”

Richard shrugged, unconcerned. “Nobody’s perfect.”

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “I’d rather marry the first man I meet than anyone you pick.”

Richard smirked. “I’d like to see that.”

“Then watch!” Elizabeth snapped, spinning on her heel and rushing outside, her father close behind.

Elizabeth ran through the estate gates, her heart racing as the cool night air brushed against her face. Behind her, she could still hear her father’s steady footsteps, never far behind.

She didn’t know where she was going, but she couldn’t stay there. As she hurried down the road, a figure appeared—a young man, about her age. His clothes were worn, his shoes scuffed from hard work, and his hands rough and calloused.

Of course, this was her luck—the first man she’d run into after her wild declaration. “Great,” Elizabeth thought. “Father’s going to love this.” She glanced over her shoulder and saw Richard standing there, his arms crossed, a smug smile on his face.

Without thinking, she walked straight up to the man and grabbed his arm. “Just play along,” she whispered, pulling him closer as if they were together.

“What are you doing?” the man asked, his brow furrowed as he looked at Elizabeth, clearly confused.

Elizabeth tightened her grip on his arm and whispered, “No time to explain. I’ll tell you everything later.” She turned to face her father, her voice loud enough for him to hear. “Well, Father, meet my future husband…” She hesitated, suddenly realizing she didn’t know the man’s name.

“Scott,” the man said quickly, still unsure of what was happening but playing along.

“…Scott,” Elizabeth echoed, trying to sound confident.

Richard walked toward them, a smirk on his face. “Congratulations to the happy couple,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He leaned in closer to Elizabeth and whispered, “You won’t last two days with this mess,” before turning and strolling back toward the mansion.

Elizabeth watched her father walk away, finally letting out a long breath. She turned to Scott, feeling the weight of what she’d just done.

“Please tell me you’re not homeless,” she said, her voice almost a plea.

Scott raised an eyebrow. “No, I’m not homeless. I’m a gardener. But what was all that about?”

Elizabeth sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Thank God. It’s a long story.” She looked around, suddenly wanting to sit and process. “Is there somewhere we can sit?”

Scott nodded. “There’s a bar down the road.”

“Perfect,” Elizabeth said, kicking off her heels to walk more comfortably.

They walked in silence, reaching the bar a few minutes later. Inside, they found a quiet table in the corner and sat down.

Scott leaned forward, clearly still confused. “Alright, care to explain now?”

Elizabeth glanced at him, then started. “My father won’t give me my inheritance until I’m married. He’s been introducing me to all these men for months. The youngest one was still ten years older than me.”

Scott chuckled. “Does your father know this isn’t the Middle Ages?”

For the first time that evening, Elizabeth smiled. “I don’t think anyone’s told him. But with that money, I can finally do what I’ve always wanted.”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

“Restoring historical buildings,” Elizabeth said, her eyes brightening a little.