I Dumped a Scumbag and Married A Boxer Star

Chapter 2: A Stranger's Vow

"I can do this… I will do this…" Ines muttered to herself. 

The courthouse was way smaller than Ines was expecting it to be. 

It also smelt like paper, ink. It looked strict, unromantic, and completely different from what a wedding was supposed to be. 

But for Ines Jackson, this was exactly what she needed… it was a place to rewrite her fate.

She was standing in front of the clerk's desk, her fingers clasped tightly together. Nerves seemed to fry her at the edges. 

The silk bodycon dress hugged her. It looked so smooth against her skin. 

It was short, of course, but with an extravagant gown that awaited her at the grand cathedral where she was meant to be. 

Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing the striking sharpness of her cheekbones and her green eyes. 

Eyes she had intentionally left bare of makeup so there was no hiding. 

Beside her, Raphael Giovanni looked as out of place as a man could be at his own wedding. 

He was still dressed in the same dark jeans from the night before. 

The fabric was wrinkled from sleep or lack of it. His black t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders. 

His messy hair fell into his shining blue eyes. If he was having second thoughts, he didn't show them. 

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, hushed and rough, as if he hadn't spoken in hours. 

"I don't have a choice," Ines murmured, her nails pressed into her palms. 

"I told you that." 

Raphael looked at her for a moment, then sighed. "Alright." 

The clerk, a middle-aged woman with weary eyes and a no-nonsense attitude, barely gave them a second glance as she processed the paperwork. 

She had probably seen her fair share of impulsive marriages, though none quite like this one. 

"Names?" she asked, peering over her glasses.

"Ines Jackson." 

"Raphael Giovanni."

The woman typed something into her computer before shuffling the marriage license in front of them. 

"Sign here. Both of you." 

Ines reached for the pen first, her hand only trembled a little as she scrawled her signature on the document that would legally bind her to a stranger. 

Then she passed the pen to Raphael. 

He took it without hesitation, glancing at her once before pressing ink to paper.

 "There." He set the pen down with a soft click. 

"Done." 

The clerk nodded, stamped the license, and slid it back to them.

 "You're officially married. Congratulations."

 It was the most underwhelming wedding ceremony imaginable.

No vows, no rings, no first kiss. 

Just ink on paper and a weird energy flying in the air between two people who needed each other for weirdly different reasons. 

Ines exhaled, feeling an odd sense of relief despite the madness of it all. 

Then she turned to Raphael. "Come with me." 

He raised a brow. "Where?" 

"My real wedding."

He let out a short, dry laugh. "Are you serious?" 

"I need to show up, or they'll come looking for me. But I'm not walking in there alone." 

He stared at her, his blue eyes scanned her like a security robot, as if trying to find the depth of her recklessness. 

Finally, he shrugged. "Alright. Let's go crash a wedding." 

The cathedral was breathtaking, obviously… It was proof of wealth and power, a place where perfection was not just expected but demanded. 

The moment Ines stepped inside, a hush fell over the crowd. 

Hundreds of guests, politicians, business moguls, celebrities—all turned in their seats, their faces felt like leaves from the tree full of confusion and shock. 

Cameras flashed wildly as paparazzi, who had been stationed outside for hours, fought to capture the scandal happening before them. 

Trevor was at the altar with his hair perfectly styled. He was the picture of a groom ready to claim his bride.

But when he saw the man walking beside Ines, his smug confidence darkened into a cold winter's night. 

"What the hell is this?" Trevor barked, stepping forward.

 "Ines, what are you doing?" Ines was staring at him head-on, her heart was ready to flee her chest, but she refused to look away.

 "I'm here to tell you I'm not yours to claim, Trevor. Not now. Not ever, you dirty piece of shit."

Her father, Diego Jackson, was standing near the altar. 

His quite darker face turned pale within seconds. 

"Ines," he said demandingly, sounding more like a warning. "What have you done?" 

She squared her shoulders. "I got married." 

The collective gasp that followed sent a huge wave through the cathedral. 

Diego's jaw tightened, his hands formed into fists at his sides.

 "You're lying." 

"She's not," Raphael interrupted casually, slipping his hands into his pockets. 

"We just came from the courthouse." 

Trevor's face turned an ugly shade of red.

 "You married this… this nobody?" 

Ines smiled coldly.

 "Better a nobody than a lost-in-life crocodile." 

Trevor moved faster than she expected. 

One moment, he was standing on the altar, the next, he was storming toward her, anger was parading his features in. 

But Ines was faster. Before he could spew another insult, before he could even reach her, she clenched her fist and swung. 

Her knuckles collided with his jaw in a satisfying crack. 

Trevor stumbled back, his hand flew to his face, eyes looked wide with shock. 

The entire room was frozen—guests, family, staff—no one had expected the bride-to-be to punch her own fiancé in the face. 

The silence was louder than that spider lurking at the corner. 

And then, someone laughed. 

A deep sound that broke through the tension like a knife.

Raphael shook his head. "Well, that was unexpected." 

Trevor, still clutching his jaw, growled, "You little—" 

But Ines didn't wait for whatever threat he was about to throw at her.

She turned on her heel, grabbed Raphael's wrist, and pulled him toward the exit.

 "Let's go."

They walked past the stunned guests, past the photographers capturing every moment of their scandal, past her father's seething rage. 

And the moment they stepped out into the cool evening air, she let out a long, trembling breath. 

Raphael glanced down at her, one brow raised. 

"So, Mrs. Giovanni. What now?" 

She looked up at him, as if looking for courage and energy to respond.

"Now? Now we run."