Sean sat in his office with the monitors lit up, displaying stock charts that kept falling. The television in the corner of the room was replaying a live clip of Moana—the part where his hand was clearly on the woman’s neck.

He closed his eyes.

"Damn it...! Moana, you bastard!"

He cursed not out of regret. But because he was cornered.

---

An emergency meeting was held that very night.

The Weasley Group’s main conference room was packed with faces rarely seen together: the board of directors, major shareholders, legal advisors, and the extended family who had long sat comfortably behind the Weasley name.

Mr. Weasley sat at the head of the table, his face stiff. Mrs. Weasley looked pale, but her eyes were sharp. On the other side sat Daniel Sturridge—Sean’s uncle, Mrs. Weasley’s younger brother—one of the largest shareholders and a respected business mastermind.

Daniel opened the meeting without preamble.

"We’re not discussing morality," he said coldly. "We’re discussing the damage."

He tapped his tablet, displaying data on the projector screen.

"Shares dropped eight percent in a single day. Two foreign partners have postponed their collaboration. One bank is demanding written clarification."

Sean leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening.

"I can handle this," he said briefly.

"No," Daniel cut in. "You can’t. Because your face right now is the face of a man in trouble."

Silence hung heavy in the room.

Mrs. Weasley finally spoke up. "Moana is blackmailing us."

"Right," Daniel replied. "But the public doesn’t care who’s blackmailing whom. They only see one thing: a powerful, rude, and uncontrollable man."

Mr. Weasley clenched his fists. "What’s your solution?"

Daniel looked Sean straight in the eye. "We need narrative stability."

"Translate that," Sean hissed.

"You have to marry Moana, Sean," Daniel replied flatly. "Now."

The room erupted in commotion.

Mrs. Weasley stood up. "That’s crazy!"

"No," Daniel retorted. "That’s crisis management. The public is more likely to accept a foolish man trapped by love than a ruthless predator."

Sean gave a short laugh. "You want me to marry the woman who just destroyed me?"

"We want this company to survive," Daniel replied coldly. "And you—if you still want to sit in that chair—have to make a sacrifice."

All eyes were on Sean.

He was silent for a long time.

In his mind, Clara’s face appeared—cold, full of rejection, and filled with hatred for him.

Then Moana’s face—cunning, demanding, and full of ambition.

And for the first time, Sean realized that both women were now in control of his life, in different ways.

"I agree," he said finally, softly but firmly.

Mrs. Weasley gasped. "Sean—"

"This is the only way," Sean cut in. "But on one condition. The wedding must be quick, private, and controlled."

Daniel nodded. "That can be arranged."

But before the meeting ended, the legal advisor raised his hand.

"There’s one major issue," he said cautiously.

Everyone turned to look.

"The public is demanding one unresolved issue," he continued. "Your legal status, Mr. Sean."

The screen displayed a new headline.

"NETIZENS DEMAND SEAN WEASLEY DIVORCE HIS LEGAL WIFE IF HE’S STILL INVOLVED WITH MOANA"

"#FREECLARA IS TRENDING"

Mrs. Weasley covered her mouth.

Daniel let out a long sigh. "Clara."

The name hung in the air like a bomb.

"We don’t know where she is," said the legal advisor. "And as long as Clara hasn’t shown up, every move you make will be met with suspicion."

Sean straightened his back. "I’m still her husband."

"Exactly," Daniel replied. "The public will surely judge—if you’re truly a man of honor, settle your old marriage first."

Sean clenched his hands under the table.

Clara—whom he had kept locked away—had now become a public specter haunting every decision Sean made, and even the key figures at the Weasley Group.

---

Sean and Moana’s marriage was announced three days later.

A press conference was held with precision. A written statement was prepared. Moana stood beside Sean, wearing a simple white dress, her face appearing gentle, almost innocent. It was truly a masterful performance.

Sean spoke of "responsibility," "mistakes," and "commitment."

Moana shed practiced tears. Fake tears.

Some of the public accepted it.

Others jeered.

Still others cursed.

But one voice never fell silent.

"Where is Clara?"

"Divorce your wife first!"

"This isn’t love. It’s a cover-up for a scandal."

--------

At the villa, Clara stared at the television screen with a blank expression.

She watched her husband standing next to another woman, talking about morality, about responsibility.

Clara let out a small, bitter laugh.

"Getting married," she muttered. "While I’m still locked up."

She turned off the TV.

And for the first time since she was kidnapped, Clara smiled—not because she was happy, but because she knew one thing for certain: Sean Weasley was building a castle of lies.

And the public... had already begun to dig at its foundation.

"It looks like I can destroy you without doing a thing, Sean!"

*********

After getting married, Sean and Moana were asked to continue living in Sean’s parents’ house. The goal was to keep the media from getting too out of hand.

In truth, Moana didn’t like living at her in-laws’ house. She felt awkward and unwelcome in that luxurious home. Mrs. Weasley wasn’t very friendly toward her daughter-in-law.

Sean and Moana’s wedding hadn’t even been twenty-four hours when the Weasley family’s main house was once again thrown into chaos.

That morning, Mrs. Weasley had just come down to the dining room when a commotion was heard from the front living room. The shrill tones, excessive laughter, and the cheap, overpowering scent of perfume immediately made her frown.

"What is this now?" she muttered coldly.

As she stepped into the living room, the sight that greeted her made her jaw clench.

Two strangers were sitting casually on the main sofa—the one usually reserved for important guests. A stocky man in a flashy suit with a large gold ring on his finger, and a woman with heavy makeup and a smug smile.

They stood up as soon as they saw Mrs. Weasley.

"Ah, this must be Moana’s esteemed mother-in-law," the man said with a broad grin. "I’m Mr. Freddy. Moana’s father."

The woman beside him quickly interjected. "And I’m her mother. Mrs. Freddy. Finally, we’re meeting officially."

Their tone was too familiar. Too bold.

Mrs. Weasley didn’t shake the hand that was offered.

"What business do you have coming to my house?" she asked coldly, cutting straight to the point.

Mr. Freddy exchanged a glance with his wife, then chuckled. "Straight to the point, huh? We thought... after our daughter’s wedding to Sean, it’s only fitting we discuss a grand reception."

"Reception?" Mrs. Weasley repeated sharply. "The wedding has already taken place."

"That was just a small ceremony," Mrs. Freddy cut in quickly. "It’s not befitting of the Weasley family. The public needs to see it. The media needs to be there. Moana is now Mrs. Sean Weasley. Shouldn’t we celebrate it properly?"

Mrs. Weasley stared at them for a long time. Her gaze was piercing, as if stripping them bare.

"Your daughter got married because of a scandal," she said softly but deadpan. "Not out of honor."

The smile on Mrs. Freddy’s face faded, but Mr. Freddy leaned back casually.

"That’s exactly the point," he said casually. "Now is the perfect time. The public already knows Moana’s name. If there’s a big reception, the media will cover it, and our name will get a boost too. The Weasley family certainly understands the importance of image."

That statement was a fatal mistake.

Mrs. Weasley took a step forward. Her voice rose, sharp and filled with long-suppressed anger.

"You show up at this house the day after the wedding and think you can boss us around?" she snapped. "Your daughter isn’t this family’s savior. He’s a problem we’re forced to deal with!"

Mrs. Freddy stood up. "Watch your mouth! My daughter is now Sean’s lawful wife!"

"And Sean is still Clara’s husband!" Mrs. Weasley retorted without hesitation. "Don’t forget that!"

The room grew tense.

Mr. Freddy slammed his fist on the table. "In that case, we can also speak to the media. About how the Weasley family forced our child to marry in secret. About the pressure. About the secret agreement."

Mrs. Weasley gave a short, cold laugh. "Threats from someone who just showed up yesterday? Interesting."

That was when Sean walked into the room. His face was tense. His eyes were tired. Moana followed behind him, looking nervous.

"What’s going on here?" Sean asked.

"Mom and Dad are just discussing the reception," Moana replied quickly. "My parents want—"

"There’s no reception," Sean cut in firmly.

Mr. Freddy turned to him. "Sean, this is about Moana’s future. Her reputation."

Sean stared at him coldly. "Moana’s reputation is already national gossip. Don’t pretend to care now."

Moana gasped. "Sean!"

"Enough," Sean said harshly. "You two go home. Now."

Mr. Freddy laughed, but there was a glint in his eyes. "Fine. But remember, Sean. We’re not small-time people. We know how to speak to the public."

Mrs. Weasley pointed to the door. "Please leave."

Moana’s parents looked reluctant to leave their in-laws’ home. However, Mrs. Weasley immediately signaled the security guards to drag the uninvited couple far away from her house.

"You can’t treat us like trash!" Mr. Freddy shouted.

He and his wife left with sour expressions, leaving a heavy tension hanging in the air.

Moana looked at Sean, her voice feigning softness. "I just want an admission."

Sean didn’t answer. He was thinking only one thing: this marriage wasn’t a solution—it was a new war.