The Enigma Called Greg

Chapter 9

The car glided up the long, tree-lined driveway, tires crunching softly against the gravel.

Alina leaned forward slightly, her eyes lighting up as the familiar silhouette of her family’s mansion came into view.

After everything—the fear, the chaos, the danger—today was supposed to be different. Today was meant to be joyful. She had counted every hour since leaving the courthouse, imagining this moment… the look on her family’s faces when they saw her—standing beside Greg, her husband.

“Are you nervous?” Greg asked, his voice calm as his hand brushed lightly over hers on the console.

Alina shook her head, though the excitement in her smile gave her away. “No… just excited. They’ve been asking me to bring someone home for years. I can’t wait for them to meet you… to see that I’ve already taken that step.”

Greg gave a faint, controlled smile. “Then let’s make sure it’s a good first impression.”

Alina let out a soft laugh, leaning slightly toward him. “It’ll be more than that, Greg. You’ll see.”

The car came to a smooth stop.

A valet hurried forward and opened the door. Greg stepped out first, then turned and offered his hand. Alina took it without hesitation, a quiet pride swelling in her chest as they walked side by side toward the grand entrance.

As they stepped inside, the full weight of the mansion revealed itself—polished marble floors stretching endlessly, sweeping staircases lined with gold accents, and towering arched windows pouring light into the hall.

At the center of it all stood her family.

They had been waiting.

And the moment they saw her—saw them—everything changed.

Smiles froze. Conversations died.

Alina’s mother, poised and impeccably dressed, spoke first. Her voice was calm—but laced with unmistakable coldness.

“Alina… who is this?”

Alina straightened, her excitement sharpening into resolve.

“Mother. Father,” she said clearly. “This is Greg, my husband.”

The words landed heavily.

For a heartbeat, silence held the room.

Greg had dressed very simply for the court wedding. He believed strongly in simple dressing, which was partly why others tended to underestimate him.

Then—

Her older brother, Deg, let out a low, disbelieving laugh. Dressed in a tailored suit, he stepped forward, eyes dragging over Greg from head to toe with open disdain.

“Your husband?” he repeated slowly, as if tasting the words. “You mean… this man?”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Alina, you can’t be serious.”

Her mother’s gaze hardened, narrowing as she looked Greg over.

“I cannot believe this,” she said coldly. “You married him—without even consulting us?”

Her tone sharpened, cutting deeper.

“After everything we’ve done for you… after all the men we introduced to you—wealthy, influential men—you chose…”

Her eyes lingered on Greg, unimpressed.

“…him?”

Greg’s expression stayed calm, composed, unreadable. He said nothing, letting their words hang in the air like a challenge.

Alina’s younger sister, Mica, couldn’t hold back a giggle, her voice sharp enough for everyone to hear. “He looks… like a lowlife. A nobody! What does he even do?”

Scott’s voice thundered through the hall, sharp with disbelief. “Alina, this is a disgrace! Marrying someone who could undermine the family’s social standing, someone with no connections, no influence… How could you do this?”

Alina’s eyes met Greg’s, and for a fleeting moment, she caught the tiniest flicker of amusement in his composed gaze. Yet he remained silent.

What they didn’t know—and what even Alina couldn’t yet grasp—was the truth about Greg. He wasn’t just respectable; he was far wealthier and more powerful than anyone in the room could imagine.

Greg wasn’t merely a man of means; he was the scion of the Barnsley family, one of the richest and most influential dynasties in Belton City. Every asset, every company, every investment that Alina’s family admired in their so-called “suitable” suitors paled in comparison to his holdings. And yet, he had chosen to live modestly, biding his time until the right moment.

But none of that needed to be revealed—at least, not yet.

Alina squared her shoulders, drawing in a steadying breath. “Mom, Dad… everyone,” she said firmly. “Greg is a good man. Brave, intelligent, honorable. I love him. That’s what matters.”

Claire’s lips pressed into a thin, rigid line. “Proud, are you? Alina, marrying a man like him is nothing to be proud of. We raised you to consider your future—your social standing, your opportunities. You’ve jeopardized everything!”

Scott stepped forward, his tone rising, eyes blazing. “This is an insult! To the family, to our name! How could you marry beneath us—beneath yourself?!”