I Married My Taxi Driver Just to Annoy My Ex – The Next Day, He Showed Me a Photo That Changed Everything – Page 2

That afternoon, we met outside a notary’s office. I brought my white dress. He showed up in a sleek navy suit that made him look like a movie star in a magazine spread. We signed a prenup I’d insisted on that basically said neither of us would touch a cent of the other’s money or assets.

It was a joke, really; I assumed he had none.

I mean, this was essentially a sham marriage, and I knew nothing about my soon-to-be husband except the name that had popped up on my phone screen when I called the taxi.

When we arrived at city hall, it was quiet, except for a couple arguing about parking tickets. Adam took my hand, squeezed it gently, and we said our short vows to a bored-looking clerk with glasses that kept sliding down her nose.

My two closest friends, Mia and Clara, stood as witnesses. Clara whispered, “Are you sure?” at least three times, but I smiled through it. Mia just kept snapping photos.

I immediately posted the image Mia took right after the ceremony to Instagram, but with no caption. Just me in the white dress I planned to marry Jonathan in, with a man no one recognized.

I thought that was the end of it. A stunt, a moment of pettiness at my ex, with good lighting. I thought it would fizzle out in a week.

But I went to bed with a strange feeling in my chest, half exhilaration, half regret.

The next morning, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find Adam standing there, holding two coffees and a photo.

“Morning,” he said. “Thought you should see this.”

He handed me the picture. It was glossy, clearly old, taken on a yacht the size of a small island. Adam stood beside a man I immediately recognized, one of the richest businessmen in the country. Gregory is the CEO of a global logistics empire.

Adam looked younger, his hair longer, but it was unmistakably him.

My mouth went dry, and my stomach flipped so hard I nearly dropped the cup. “What does this mean?” I demanded, my voice shaking.

He sipped his coffee calmly and asked, “Can I come in?” When I nodded, he glided inside and explained himself.

“That taxi job? It’s how I get away sometimes and my way of staying in touch with real people. I’m Gregory’s son. I stepped back from the company three years ago after things got… complicated. But I never really left and am the heir to his company.”

He shrugged. “Technically, yes. But I don’t care about any of that.”