It was only the night before the wedding that she was able to really read Philip's profile. He was twenty-nine years old, graduated at Stanford—top of his class. After his father's death and William decided to retire in 2005, he took over the family empire. And by empire it meant countless corporations that ranged from malls, real estates and many others. For a moment she wondered where her father fit in in all of it.

He was never married, no children either. He had one sister, Chanty. His grandparents from his mother's side were deceased. Hope and William were his only living grandparents.

Apart from the basic family background, nothing much in the profile told her anything personal really, so she did not bother to read through it again.

She was more concerned of how she should act at the wedding. She was actually getting jitters. If she tried to analyze everything, one thing only came to mind: Crazy.

She had tried to call her father but he never answered or called back. Her mother was unreachable as well. That was something new, she thought.

She decided not to call Harrison yet. She'd do that after the wedding. He would not be happy about it for sure. She had a lot of explaining to do to him by the time their talk would happen. Or maybe she did not have to tell Harrison anything at all. She can consider this marriage as the same one celebrities did in Vegas—a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing.

Before going to bed, she made some calls for additional plane reservations. Philip gave her his passport and visa earlier and his name was a great help with her transactions. After all, Strindberg Industries always had a way with almost everyone and everything. After finally printing the ticket she got for him, she made more international calls to change her hotel reservation and ask a friend for some favors. After almost two hours, she looked down at Philip's plane tickets, passport and visa with a wicked grin.

Oh, I bet he's going to love his plane ride.

She was not hard at heart, but with everything Philip Strindberg and her father did to her, she thought she deserved to play little pranks.

The wedding would go according to Philip's way, but the honeymoon would play out exactly as how she planned it to be. That was the only reassuring thought she held on to as she went to sleep.

*****

Her parents arrived the next day. God, she totally forgot they'd be actually present at the wedding. Her mother was skeptical about the sudden wedding, but that was overpowered by her immense joy. When most mothers would demand explanations as to why their daughters decided to tie the knot all of a sudden, Valerie Anders was just plain ecstatic about the whole thing. Maybe it was because the family name Strindberg came along with it.

"Oh, dear, I'm so happy for you. It's okay, don't explain yourself. I know why you kept it from us," she said as she hugged Cassandra.

"You should have seen her face when I told her the news," her father said behind them. Cassandra chose not to answer. Kurt Anders understood how she felt and decided to step out of the picture just a little and let his wife do all the talking.

"Honey, shouldn't you be getting ready?" her mother asked. It was only then that Cassandra noticed that her parents were already dressed for the wedding.

This is really crazy, she thought. Her eyes went back to her father who couldn't hold her gaze for more than five seconds. "Can I have a few moments alone with dad?" Her question brought a frown on her mother's face but the lady eventually shrugged and stepped back.

Her father was about to open his mouth to protest, but his wife said, "Okay. I know you two have some talking to do. This wedding is so sudden after all. I barely had time to prepare! I need to make coffee. I'll be at the kitchen."

Silence reigned between her and Kurt Anders for more than a minute before she looked him in the eye and spoke, "Dad. I am not going through this stupid wedding if you don't tell me the real reason why I have to. Do you get it? This is stupid. I can't even wrap my mind around the thought." It was hard not to shout, but she did her best to keep her voice low. "I can get out the door and fly to somewhere and never come back. I can go to the police right now because I know that any contract you have with Philip Strindberg—if there is really any—is completely illegal." She was almost out of breath with anger as she finished her speech with, "Tell me why. I need you to tell me why, dad."

Her father was looking frantic and she had never seen him like that ever. He took out a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his flushed face. "I can't, Cassy. I wish I can but I just...I just can't. Trust me on this. You're right. There is a contract, but it is not entirely about you."

That surprised her the most and for a few seconds she was elated with the thought that she didn't have to go through with the wedding after all. She could disappear. Escape like she had planned to before. But the look on her father's face told her she couldn't get out of this.

He looked over his shoulder to check if his wife was within earshot. She was not. He returned his pleading gaze at Cassandra and said, "You can walk away if you want. You can do whatever you want, Cassy. But please, trust me when I say that this is the best solution right now."

"Solution? For what? That's what I want to know."

Her father closed his eyes for a moment and she almost felt sorry for him. "I did something stupid two years ago. Because of that, I am in trouble. I was about to go crazy when Philip came along and we both decided to help each other." She waited for more but he finished his explanation with, "That's all I can tell you. Trust me, darling. I would rather walk you down the aisle against your wish than lose you forever. Both you and your mother. I promise I'll explain everything once it's all over."

"Then there's no loan money? No contract with Philip Strindberg?"

Before her father could answer, her mother shouted for her. "Cassy, aren't you going to get ready?"

"Please," was the only word that her father managed to say.

She shared one last look with her father. The man looked like he was waiting for the jury to say he was going to jail for the rest of his life.

Cassandra sighed and shook her head. "Mom, the wedding is in six hours. Are you that excited?" She saw the relief on her father's face as she shouted over her shoulder.

"Yes! Of course!" Valerie said, walking back to them. She gently ran her smooth hands over her made up blond hair and smiled. Her mother was really beautiful. She always carried this elegance with her that flowed naturally. Her light brown eyes were filled with innocent joy and it seems that age gave her a new glow instead of making her old. Just like now, she was dressed in a red dress that spruced up her still slender curves. A pearl necklace hung around her flawless skin and she looked like ten years younger. "Now, let's go get you ready. Your gown and make-up artist are waiting for you at The Plaza."

From the corner of her eye, she saw her father step back and disappear in the kitchen. "Mom! It's only seven. The wedding's at one o'clock," she whined.

"Now, stop being so whiny, Cassandra. You have to take a long bath. You need to relax. Six hours is not enough for that." Her mother pushed her toward her bedroom. "Go fill your tub and have a relaxing bath. I brought different kinds of aroma therapy packages for you. I'll go get them." Cassandra resignedly walked to her bathroom and filled the tub. There was no way she could talk her mother out of this.

She spent almost one hour inside the tub with the strong smell of lavender and so many other things from the candle her mother lighted for her, thinking of the talk she had with her father. Is he in big trouble? Mafia-kind-of-trouble?

God, why was she so obsessed with this Mafia thing? Better than terrorists, she reasoned. Her father was not capable of manufacturing plastic weapons of mass destruction, was he?

He was the only one who could answer that and as much as she wanted to drill him, her mother's presence prevented that. And he chose to go ahead to The Plaza to see if any more things were needed to be done.

It was better that way. Lying to her mother, letting her think her daughter was marrying because she wanted to, was hard enough. His presence only made it worse.

And there was Philip Strindberg. If her father would not talk, she'd make sure her future husband would. He got mixed up in her father's troubles to help him? That did not seem right. He was not the kind of man who would graciously help another businessman without something in return. And no matter how she thinks of it, she was not the one Philip Strindberg really wanted. He could get any wife he needed. There was something else he was after here.

I'll make him talk, she promised.

Marrying him would give her time. So she better get to that wedding after all.

"Mom, I'm done. I don't think I can stay longer. My skin's going to fall off if I do," Cassandra called out from the bathroom, wrapping herself with the silky robe her mother handed her earlier.

"Good. Now dry off and wear that dress," she pointed at a lime green dress on her bed.

Cassandra sighed and walked over to the bed. She took her time dressing and when she was done, she frowned at her mother who was busily packing a lot of things.

"What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.

"I bought you some real clothes, honey," her mother said in a sing-song voice. "You should show Philip your assets."

"You met him?"

"Of course. He and you dad told me the news. I even asked him why he didn't bring you. Oh, he was so sweet. Said he wants to get my permission personally. It was brave of him to come alone to face me and your father."

"Yeah, he is," was all she could say. He did not mention about meeting you, she thought to herself as she watched her mother. "Mom, you did not tell him about Dennis, did you?"

"Hmm? No, of course not, darling. I was not stupid to talk about such matters."

Cassandra felt relieved until she saw what her mother was packing. "Mom, what's that?"

"What's what?"

"That box!" she asked, her face horrified when she saw the brightly colored box.

"Don't tell me you don't know what this is?" her mother asked innocently and flung the box in front of her. "This is for your protection. In case you don't want to have a child just yet."

"Mom! I know what that is!" she grabbed the box from her mother's hand. "And I know very well what this is for! God, you're embarrassing me!"

"I got you the pills too," her mother continued, "you know how to use this, right? Look here...there's a date—"

"Mom!" Cassandra gasped as she snatched the pills away, "I'm old enough to know how to use the damn pills!"

Her mother looked at her in bewilderment, "Why are you so horrified? I'm just looking out for you, honey. I know that women of today are not in such a hurry to build a family. I just want to support you and Philip."

"Then stop doing stuff like this. God, it's embarrassing," she looked around. Though she knew they were alone, still she wanted to be sure no one else witnessed their exchange. "What are those?" she asked when she saw the colorful garments inside her suitcase.

"Underwear, lingerie, and a lot more. Toys as well—"

"What the hell, mom!" She groaned, pulled the suitcase towards her, threw the pills and the box of condoms inside and closed it. "Mom, stop it, okay? I know what to do during my honeymoon."

"Where are you going anyway?" her mother's light brown eyes looked at her with joy.

"Somewhere," she answered.

"Tropical?"

"Very," she smiled for the first time. She tried to think of Philip's reaction once he found out. Oh, it was the only thing that made her giddy. "Now, mom, please let's go. No more boxes and pills—and toys, okay? Just...just behave."

"Okay, okay," her mother held up both hands. Valerie Anders sighed. "I am happy for you, darling."

Regretfully, Cassandra couldn't say the same thing.

*****

The next three hours she spent in a whirlwind of a lot of things. Philip sent a driver to drive her to The Plaza. She and her enthusiastic mother rode at the back of the black BMW with the latter woman's incessant blabbers and constant reminder that everything would go perfectly and saying things like, "I just wish we had more time to prepare this wedding."; "Why did you decided all of a sudden, anyway?"; "You're not pregnant, are you?"; "I wish you told me about him."; "I wish I had enough time to meet his family! I've read about them countless of times and I still find it unbelievable that you snatched one of them!"

Cassandra did not bother to answer all questions because she knew her mother was only talking to herself and did not really expect any answer.

The moment she stepped inside her dressing room an hour before the wedding, she was stripped out of her dress and was wrapped in a silk robe. Her blond hair was made up in perfect waves by a cheery, black American woman who gave her an hour of fun stories about other wedding tragedies she had been into in the past.

When she was ready, Cassandra hardly recognized herself. Perhaps it was better that way. She wanted to think that she was not the woman who would walk down the aisle today.

The gown was the last thing to come and it was a more difficult task than the last time. Her veil was much more of a challenge because it practically ran down the floor behind her and it was uncomfortable to move her head at all.

Cassandra was able to rest five minutes before the dreaded walk down the aisle. Her father did not show up throughout the storm, probably guarding the doors in fear that she would run away. How Cassandra wished she had the courage to go Julia-Roberts and be the Runaway Bride of New York.

Her mother had gone missing and she didn't really care. She couldn't take any more of her useless chatters. She was still recovering from the gifts she received this morning.

Someone knocked on the door and the pretty brown-haired beauty popped her head inside. "Can I come in?" Chanty asked.

"Yes, of course," Cassandra said and began to stand up.

"Oh, no, don't stand up. I know you're tired," her future sister-in-law waved her hand. She was dressed in a pretty golden gown and it was paired with golden wedged sandals. Her straight brown hair was spread beautifully behind her back. She held a bouquet of tulips in one hand and she handed it to Cassandra. "This is yours," she smiled awkwardly. "Look, Cassandra, right?"

"Cassy. You can call me Cassy or Cass, whichever you're comfortable with," she answered.

"Look, Cassy." Chanty's smile turned warm. "I'm sorry about last dinner. Angelica was out of bounds. I shouldn't have let her talk me into bringing her."

Yes, about that. Why don't you fucking tell me more about Angelica? Cassandra wanted to ask, but chose to utter, "That's okay. I was shocked, but I got over it sooner than most would have, I think," instead.

Is she here? I don't want to pull out a bunch of red hair off that pretty head of hers.

"Don't worry; she's not coming to the wedding. I told her I'd end our friendship if she does," Chanty said in a jesting tone as if she heard Cassandra's question. "She's just a bit heartbroken, that's all. Oh, I know Philip probably told you about everything, so I don't think I should explain."

No, actually I don't have a freaking idea. I would love to know more! Cassandra thought as she smiled. "Yeah, of course he did."

"I really hope we'd become friends. My brother should have at least introduced you to us before he decided to propose."

"Of course, we can be friends. And I had been very busy for a long time though I really wish I could have met you guys before all this," she answered warmly. She liked Chanty—she was not like her brother at all. Actually, she liked the rest of his family that she even considered if he was adopted.

"Well, good luck. Philip said none of your friends can make it to be your maid of honor and he thought I'd be a perfect proxy. I hope you don't mind."

"I don't really have a lot of friends and the few I have are scattered around the globe. New York was never a home until now, of course. And you being my maid of honor is an honor. I told him you'd be perfect," she lied. She totally forgot about that detail.

She was saddened by that thought again. She had friends nearby and though they were not a lot, she would have loved to have them at her wedding. She shook her head mentally. No, she didn't really want her friends to see her getting married to a complete stranger. Two years ago, they expected her to be married happily. She couldn't say she was happy now, so it was better that they were not here. Most of them were better off doing whatever they were doing in wherever part of the world they may be right now.

She dreaded the calls that would bombard her should this wedding be publicly known. He was a Strindberg, after all. Ah, but she would not be here to answer the calls, will she? She would be somewhere far away for her honeymoon.

Chanty seemed pleased and she gave Cassandra a small hug, drawing Cassandra away from her thoughts, before telling her it was time for the wedding to start.

Her throat tightened at the news. It was like she was suddenly grabbed from behind without notice. Oh, God, this is really happening.

"Philip's already waiting for you," Chanty smiled at her as she held out her hand for her. Cassandra took it and held on for dear life.

Her father was already waiting for her by the entrance. She also forgot he'd be handing her to Philip. Without a word, she hooked her hand around the crook of his arm.

"I'm sorry about this, Cassy. I really am."

"What's done is done, dad. I just wish you can trust me enough to tell me everything," she whispered back, already tired of having another witty remark to throw. She knew he had strong reasons for doing what he did, but the bitterness on her part would stay for a bit longer until she found out the truth behind all these.

The music started and everyone in front of the line—all of them strangers to her—started to walk slowly down the aisle. Everyone turned to look at her. She looked back at them, grateful for the veil because she didn't feel like smiling with her eyes right now. Everyone was a stranger—excluding her mother who was now seated with Mary and Hope Strindberg like they had been friends since birth, an empty seat beside her most probably for her dad.

With eyes full of the new faces around her, she looked around and almost gasped. She never realized The Terrace Room she and Philip visited yesterday could become more beautiful. Golden lights hung from the high ceiling, expensive flowers along the aisle—it was just golden everything. She almost felt out of place.