The front door creaks open, and I sprint from my room, heart pounding after waiting for him for hours. I know it’s Jax—he always comes back at this ungodly hour after vanishing all night. “Jaxon Harper!” I shout as I reach the door, my fingers clutching the paper I found in his room last night.
There he is, standing in the doorway. His dark hair is disheveled, and his skin has that sickly pale tint. Probably another night of drinking and partying. He stumbles in, not even glancing my way, like this is just another morning in his chaotic routine.
I shove the paper in his face. "What the hell is this, Jaxon Harper?" My voice cracks with sheer disbelief. "An agreement? A marriage? Did you just sell me off to some random billionaire?
Jax barely glances at me, tossing his jacket onto the couch like it's just another Tuesday. "I didn’t expect you to find out this way," he mutters, fiddling with his phone and avoiding my gaze.
I stare, disbelief boiling inside me. "That’s it? So you’ve been planning this? What’s the endgame, Jax? I marry Maximilian Leander Milton, sign my life away—and you pocket the money?"
His jaw tightens, but he stays unfazed, strolling to the kitchen. He grabs a water bottle from the fridge and twists the cap like we’re discussing the weather.
"I’m not selling you off," he says, taking a long sip. "It’s for your sake."
My heart pounds, fury igniting every nerve. "For my sake? Are you serious? You think forcing me into an arranged marriage with a bunch of rules is some kind of a fucking favor?"
"He's rich, fine, and a gentleman. He will treats you better than I ever do."
"I don’t need a man!" My voice cracks, but I don’t care. "I can treat myself better—better than you ever did! I can’t believe you did this to me. I’m your sister. You loved me... you used to love me."
He sighs like I’m the unreasonable one, leaning back lazily in his chair. "This is how I love you."
The words hit like a slap. Without thinking, I slam my fist on the table. Plates rattle, and the dull thud echoes through the kitchen. "This isn’t love! This is control! Did you even read the contract?" I shake the paper in his face, hands trembling with rage. "It’s a cage, Jax—a goddamn cage, and he holds the key!"
His indifferent expression stays in place, like this whole conversation is beneath him.
Fury burns through me, hot and unforgiving. "I thought we only needed each other! After what happened, I thought you would be more taking a good care of me. But now I see... You’ve been desperate for money all along. Is that it? You’re so desperate so you’d sell me off?" My voice wavers under the weight of it all.
Tears blur my vision as the dam finally breaks. "I worked so hard—for us. I got that scholarship, not just for me. I wanted an education, a good job, a better life... for both of us." I look at him, my heart shattering with every word. "You didn’t have to do anything, Jax. You just need to wait—just wait!."
"I can’t wait," he says, his voice soft but firm. There’s something behind it, but I don’t care. Maybe he thinks he can tame me with his gentleness, but not this time. Not anymore.
Jax’s face hardens into that cold, indifferent mask when I don’t respond the way he expected. "Dress up. He’s coming to take you," he says.
His words knock the air from my lungs. I stare at him, stunned. "No! I’m not going anywhere!"
Without thinking, I tear the contract to pieces, the sound of ripping paper cutting through the silence. I toss the shreds at his feet, gasping for breath. "Watch me!"
Jax doesn’t even flinch. He stands there, emotionless, as if my rebellion is just a minor inconvenience.
I whirl around and storm out the front door, phone already in hand. Desperately, I dial my best friend’s number, each unanswered ring tightening the knot in my chest. "C’mon, Sarah," I mutter, but the call goes to voicemail. I try again. Nothing.
Panting, I reach the road and, without thinking, step off the curb—
SCREECH!
A car swerves, tires screeching against the asphalt. I stumble back, heart racing. "Oh my God... I'm sorry!" I blurt, still dazed from the near miss, my knees weak beneath me.
A man steps out-a tall figure in a suit, his sharp features masked by a cold, unreadable expression. My breath catches. This must be him.
Instinct kicks in. I spin to run, but Jax is already there, blocking my path. His hand clamps around my wrist.
"Jax, let me go!" I thrash against his grip, panic surging as he drags me toward the sleek black car by the curb. "Jax, please! You can't do this!"
He stays silent, his grip like iron, ignoring every desperate kick and twist. My pulse thunders in my ears, drowning out everything but the panic rising inside me.
With a rough shove, Jax forces me toward the open door. Before I can fight back, he pushes me inside. The door slams shut with a heavy thud.
I yank the handle furiously, but it won’t budge. Locked. "No! Let me out!" I scream, pounding the window with both fists. "Jax!"
Through the glass, I see him talking with the man by the car. Jax’s pale face lights up as he exchanges glances with him—his source of money.
I hit the window harder, my palms stinging. "Jax, please! You promised Mother! You promised to take care of me!" My voice cracks, tears spilling freely.
Jax steps closer as the man slides into the car. The window lowers just enough for him to speak. "This is how I take care of you, Ari," he says, his cold, detached eyes locking with mine.
Before the car moves, I read his lips: "Goodbye, Ari."
***
The car glides to a stop, and my stomach sinks as I stare out the tinted window. A massive, cold mansion looms ahead, straight out of an old European painting. Classical columns line the front, and ivy creeps up the stone walls, failing to soften its harsh grandeur. Everything about it screams power and wealth.
The man cuts the engine and glances back with a polite, distant expression. "We’re here."
I press into the seat, wishing I could disappear. "I’m not getting out."
"That’s not up to me."
"I'm not marrying you, you know!" I snap.
He chuckles with amusement. "Of course, you're not, Lady. I’m not the one who set this marriage."
His words confuse me. Before I can respond, he steps out, walks around, and opens my door. I sit frozen, the seatbelt digging into my chest as I stare up at the towering mansion.
"I’m Gideon, Miss. Harper," he says softly, unlocking my seatbelt. "It’s best if you cooperate. My little brother isn’t a man with more time for dealing with your tantrums."
I clench my fists, fury boiling inside me, but it’s pointless. No one is coming to help me—Jax made sure of that.
I shove the seatbelt away and swing my legs out of the car. My feet hit the cobblestones as I stare up at the looming entrance. Gideon hands me off to the butler, who motions for me to follow. Each step tightens the knot of anxiety in my chest. I tell myself I’m calm—but I’m not. I’m just holding it together.
The butler guides me through endless hallways, sunlight pouring through tall windows, offering no comfort. My thoughts spin—how did everything fall apart so fast? Yesterday, I believed in a future I could control. Now, I’m here, handed over to a stranger.
The butler opens a door, gives a curt nod, and leaves. Inside, Maximilian sits behind a large desk, papers scattered around him. He writes calmly, black hair catching the light, sharp features cold and unreadable. He glances up briefly, eyes cutting through me like I don’t belong, then returns to his work without a word.
How am I supposed to live with this man? The thought starts suffocating me. He feels more dangerous than any poverty I’ve known, more terrifying than hunger. My knees buckle, and I collapse onto the cold marble, breathless. Tears blur my vision with desperation.
"Please..." The word slips out before I can stop it.
Maximilian’s pen stills, and his gaze lifts from the paper to me. This time, he really looks. His cold, gray eyes meet mine—not with anger or cruelty, just sheer indifference. It’s not that he ignores my tears; it’s that they don’t matter. I don’t matter.
Why agree to this marriage if he doesn’t care? Could someone have forced him into this, just like Jax forced me? The thought flickers, fragile but hopeful. If this marriage means nothing to him, maybe—just maybe—he’ll let me go.
“Please cancel this marriage,” I say, my voice trembling but determined.
He doesn’t respond, but I press on. “I had dreams... I still do. I earned a scholarship, and I can’t throw it all away." The tears come again, deliberate now. If sorrow is my only weapon, I’ll use it.
“Please,” I whisper, voice breaking. “I’m too young for this. I have so much left to do.”
Then he moves.
The soft scrape of his chair against the floor is my only warning. My heart pounds painfully as he walks toward me, slow and deliberate, his expression unreadable.
Each step he takes feels heavier, as if the air thickens with his presence. He stops in front of me, towering with that same unreadable calm.
For a moment, he just stands there, silent, his cold eyes scanning my face. I hold my breath, clinging to the hope that he might grant me the freedom I begged for.
“Where will you use the scholarship?” His voice cuts through the silence, catching me off guard.
I blink, confused. “It’s here, in the city... Fordham."
He gives a small, detached nod. “You have integrity. You have value.”
I stare at him, stunned. I don't know why he talks about my college. But if this is my chance, I need to take it. “Y-yeah, exactly!” I say quickly, seizing the moment. “I can’t let it slipping through my fingers, right?”
He watches me, silent and expressionless, his gaze making my heart race with growing panic. Desperation claws at me.
“I’ll do anything to end the contract—anything, Mr. Milton!” My voice cracks as I look up at him, tears streaking my cheeks, hoping my desperation will move him. "So, please—"
“Anything I say?” His voice is calm, but there’s something new in his tone—something that sparks hope in my chest.
There is it—my chance! With the offer I've made, he has to choose something other than marriage, right? Could he finally let me go?
“Yes!” I gasp, breathless. “I’ll do whatever you want!”He leans his face in slowly, deliberate, the air thickening between us. My heart hammers in my chest, desperate and frantic. Then his voice brushes against me, cold as frost.“Then... marry me.”The words hit me like a slap, leaving me stunned. I freeze, disbelief knotting in my throat. My hope—the one last flicker I clung to—snuffs out instantly.“What?”“You said you’d do what I say.” He steps closer, his presence pressing down on me, suffocating. “I say: marry me.”I shake my head, as if I’ve misheard, as if this isn’t real. But his voice slices through my confusion, calm and merciless.“And if you really hate this agreement, then let's get married like a man and a woman should do—not like a contract tells us to.”Without waiting for a response, he turns his back and walks toward the door. His footsteps echo in the silence, a final reminder of how little he cares. He played me—made me think there was a way out, only to tear it
The rooftop venue glimmers under the morning sun, but none of it feels real to me. I sit alone at a table tucked into the garden’s corner, far from the laughter and clinking champagne glasses. This isn’t a wedding; it’s a transaction wrapped in extravagance. Guests buzz around like bees in a gilded hive, chatting and congratulating, oblivious to the suffocating weight in my chest. Maximilian’s friends and family swarm through the garden, each one effortlessly fitting into this world he dragged me into three days ago—a world I don’t belong to. “Oh, the bride is beautiful! What a dress!” “I heard the wedding was arranged quickly. No one expecting this marriage before.” “Strange, isn't it? But look at this—he spared no expense, proofing everything.” “She’s lucky. It’s Maximilian Milton, after all. Who wouldn’t want to be in her shoes?” Lucky. That word cuts through me. I glance at the ring on my finger, a sparkling band I never wanted. My thumb rubs the cold metal as if tryin
“Madam!”I shift my gaze to the two men running toward me; a flicker of panic crosses their faces, subtle but unmistakable. They are the guards who wanted to follow me—Mr. Andymon and Mr. Patrick. They quickly lead me away from the guard about to escort me into the elevator, and I feel a sense of loss as Mr. Patrick pulls him aside.Their stiff posture and the way their eyes dart to him without making direct contact tell me everything and nothing at once. They move too smoothly, like a choreographed dance—efficient and polished—as if trying to keep me calm and ensure I don’t notice that something is off. But I do.“Madam, are you finished?” Mr. Andymon asks, his tone light and polite, as if we’re discussing brunch rather than a situation that’s setting off every alarm in my head. “You should head back to the roof soon.”I fold my arms and narrow my eyes at Mr. Andymon. “I ruined my makeup,” I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Should I go back upstairs and chat with the guests lo
The moment I lift my gaze, the air leaves my lungs—it’s him.“Are you gonna leave your husband just like this, right after the wedding party?”Maximilian. Sitting across from me like a ghost from a nightmare. I blink, hoping he’ll disappear, but no—he’s real. He found me.He looks terrible. The usual sharp elegance is gone—dark hair disheveled, stubble shadowing his jaw, and cold, bloodshot eyes ringed with exhaustion. His suit is wrinkled, shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He seems worn down, but far from defeated.Maximilian leans back, jaw tight, struggling to maintain control. His gaze locks onto mine, steady yet simmering with restrained anger.“How did you...?”He cuts me off, leaning in with infuriating calm, like he’s already won. “If I missed your train, I would’ve taken my helicopter.” A pause, heavy with meaning. “Understand your position now?” His voice drops, sharp and deliberate. “Stop causing trouble.”The words hit like a slap. My nails dig into my palms to stop my hands