The billionaire crazy wife

Episode 2

The wedding

White Villa – That Night

Daisy strutted into the house, a smug smile on her lips and no single regret in her soul. She had poured tequila on New York's most feared billionaire and walked away like a queen.

She kicked off her heels and was about to head upstairs when her father's voice boomed from the living room.

"How was the date?"

Daisy turned slowly, rolling her eyes. "Let's just say... he got a little taste of what it's like to force me into a marriage I never agreed to."

Her father narrowed his eyes, but before he could respond, his phone rang.

Caller ID: Cassian Blackwood

He answered immediately. "Cassian. I was about to call you-"

"No need," Cassian said coolly. "I'm calling to finalize the wedding."

Mr. White blinked. "Wait... what?"

Cassian's deep voice rumbled through the speaker, confident and amused. "She poured tequila on my pants like a damn rebel and walked away like she owned the world. I like her."

There was a long pause.

"She's wild, unpredictable, disobedient... and she challenges me. That's exactly what I need."

Mr. White's jaw dropped. "So... you're saying-?"

Cassian chuckled. "I'm saying it's going to be to be amazing if I get married to your daughter... and I'm all in. Let's get this wedding started."

He hung up.

Daisy watched her father with a frown. "What did he say?"

Mr. White slowly looked up at her, both confused and stunned.

"He said... he loves your attitude."

Daisy's smirk disappeared.

"What?"

"He's finalizing the wedding. He said you're exactly what he needs."

Daisy stared at him, speechless for once.

"What the actual hell is wrong with that man?" she whispered.

Her father leaned back on the couch, laughing softly. "Looks like you just got yourself a husband... and a challenge."

---

DAISY'S ROOM – LATER THAT NIGHT

Daisy slammed the door shut behind her and threw her bag on the bed like it had personally offended her.

"What kind of psycho likes getting tequila dumped on his pants?" she muttered, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. "Is he into humiliation? Is that his thing?"

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: You have no idea what you've started, little angel.

She stared at the message. Her jaw dropped.

Daisy: Who is this??

Unknown Number: Your future husband. You made the first move. Now it's my turn.

She dropped the phone on the bed like it was cursed. "Oh no. Oh no no no. He's insane."

And hot, her inner voice whispered.

"Shut up."

There was a knock on her door. It cracked open and her dad peeked in.

"You've made quite an impression, Daisy."

"I wasn't trying to impress anyone."

"Well, it didn't matter. Cassian wants the wedding as soon as possible. You should start getting ready."

Daisy blinked. "For what?"

"The engagement party. He's hosting it tomorrow night at his penthouse."

She stared at her father in horror.

"Tell him to choke on his champagne."

"Tell him yourself," her father said with a shrug. "But wear something nice. You're going to be the center of attention."

The door closed behind him, and Daisy stood there, stunned.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror.

"So he wants war?" she whispered to herself.

She smirked.

"Fine. He'll get it."

---

Next day

Cassian penthouse

Do you, Miss Daisy white, take Mr. Cassian Blackwood as your lawfully wedded husband till death do you part?" the priest asked, his voice shaking slightly as he glanced between the couple.

Daisy -fiery, barefoot, and absolutely done-glared at the man beside her like he was a cockroach in a Gucci suit. If eyes could kill, Cassian would be a lifeless corpse in Armani.

The priest hesitated to repeat the question, but dasiy beat him to it.

"No, I don't."

Gasps echoed around the grand cathedral. Her father choked on his wine.

"As a matter of fact," she continued, flipping her curls like it was a runway, "I don't even know this overgrown control freak. But clearly, I don't have the right to decide my own life."

She turned to the priest, eyes wide with faux innocence.

"And let's be honest, you're gonna pronounce us married anyway. So skip the drama. My heels hurt, and I need a drink."

With that, she kicked off her designer stilettos and let out a deep, satisfied breath, smiling like a queen at the crowd-completely ignoring the icy daggers Cassian was shooting her way.

"Mr. Cassian Blackwood, do y-"

"Yes."

Cassian's cold voice sliced through the air like a knife. The priest flinched. Poor guy looked like he wanted to quit and become a farmer.

"I now... pr-pronounce you husband... and w-wife," he stuttered.

---

CASSIAN'S PENTHOUSE

The wedding was over. The chaos, the gasps, the scandalous headlines... all done. Now, they were officially husband and wife.

Daisy stormed into the penthouse, her veil in one hand and her stilettos in the other. She kicked the door shut behind her and turned to see Cassian standing at the bar, calmly pouring himself a drink like they hadn't just caused a social media explosion.

She marched up to him.

"Got your stupid wedding. Happy now?"

Cassian sipped his whiskey, eyes cool, unreadable.

"You said no at the altar."

She smirked. "You said yes anyway."

He stepped closer, towering over her now. "Because I like a challenge. But now that you're mine, we're setting some rules."

Daisy raised an eyebrow. "Rules? What am I-your employee?"

"You could never work for me. You'd burn the office down just to prove a point."

She gave him a wicked grin. "You're not wrong."

Cassian's face hardened just slightly.

"Rule one," he said smoothly, "You will live here. No running back to your father's house or jetting off to another continent without my knowledge."

"Rule two," he continued, circling her slowly, "In public, we play the perfect couple. No tantrums, no outbursts. You wear the ring, smile for the cameras, and stand by my side."

"And rule three-" he stopped in front of her, eyes locked on hers, voice dropping to a low growl, "Don't test my patience. I'm not a man who loses, little angel.".

And rule four_ we are not staying in the same room, don't think about any of such.

Daisy tilted her head. "Cute. My turn."

Cassian raised a brow.

She stepped up to him, toe to toe.

"Rule one," she said mockingly, "I don't take orders. You want a robot bride, go buy one."

"Rule two-I'll wear the ring, but don't expect me to wear your name with pride."

"And rule three-" she leaned in close, her breath tickling his neck, "Don't fall in love with me. It'll be your biggest mistake."

Cassian let out a low laugh. "Oh, sweetheart... we'll see who makes the first mistake."

They stood there, heat and hate mixing in the space between them.

The air was thick with tension. Not the romantic kind. The war kind.

Daisy stepped out of her room in a silk robe, towel-drying her hair. She glanced down the hall and found Cassian standing at the end, shirtless, casually sipping whiskey with his other hand tucked into his pajama pants pocket.

They locked eyes.

"Don't get any ideas," she said coolly.

"I wasn't," he replied just as coldly.

She raised a brow. "Oh? So we're not doing the whole 'we're married so we sleep in the same bed' thing?"

Cassian took a slow sip. "Not unless you want to."

Daisy rolled her eyes. "In your dreams, CEO."

He smirked. "You were in one last night."

She gasped. "Excuse me?!"

"I had a nightmare," he said flatly. "You were in it."

Daisy clutched her chest like he'd just insulted her ancestors. "You arrogant Greek statue of a man."

He turned, heading to his door. "Goodnight, wife."

She flipped him off the moment his back turned. "Goodnight, husband."

BANG! She slammed her bedroom door behind her.

DAISY'S ROOM

She couldn't sleep. Her room was the size of a small castle, draped in luxury, but felt colder than an ice cube in Antarctica.

"Ughhh," she groaned into her pillow. "Why is this bed so soft yet so miserable?"

She rolled over.

Then rolled back.

Then sat up.

Then stomped to the mini-fridge and grabbed a soda. She popped it open and leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

I hate that phycho so much .