CHAPTER 1

SAMANTHA'S POV

“If you don’t accept, we will have no choice but to cut off your mother’s life support,” Sandra said, her voice cold and unyielding. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned towards her in anger.

I have always dreamt to have the most dramatic and romantic proposal and wedding but my own biological father just shattered it by announcing my marriage to a total stranger. And as though that wasn't enough, he is now threatening me with the life of my mother, his first wife. The woman who stood by him when he had nothing and helped him build the empire his flaunting for another woman.

I'm sure my stepmother had something to do with it but no way in this world would I let him and his crazy wife turn my life upside down for their own benefit. If they want a sacrifice, their ever loving daughter who flaunts my father's money like it's hers should be the sacrificial lamb not me who had to fight for everything I have now even though my father was among the top ten richest in the country.

“What are you talking about? You stopped paying for her treatment last year. I have been struggling to pay for her bills. You must be stupid to think that you can pull that card on me.” No way would I let them blackmail me into this.

“Do you think that twenty thousand dollars per month was enough to handle your mother’s bills?” She asked me, her lips lifting in amusement.

What the hell is she talking about?!

“Samantha, honey,” my father started, forcing me to tear my gaze from his crazy wife and turn to him. “We have been paying eighty-four percent of the bills the whole time.”

My ears rang and I forgot to breathe for a minute as I stared at him in shock.

“If you disagree with the marriage, we will be left with no choice but to stop paying our part of the bills. Are you sure you can handle paying a hundred and twenty thousand dollars monthly?” Sandra asked with a smirk.

“Are you going to allow her to do this too? She was your wife. The one you promised to be with in sickness and in health.” My voice came out weaker than I wanted it to.

“We have no choice.” I turned my face to Sandra, who was still smiling.

My shoulders slumped in defeat. She had me, and she knew it. It would take me working to the bone for four months to get that amount of money.

“Who is the person I am supposed to get married to?” I asked my father, accepting defeat. Relief washed over his face, and I felt sick.

“Gregory Quin.” My ears bled at his announcement. I instantly understood why she made this choice for me and not her daughter. After all, no man would want their daughter to marry a man who is worse than the devil.

Gregory Quin! The billionaire who was known for talking down on women at every opportunity he got. Wasn’t he the one who went viral when a video clip of him beating his wife to the extent that she went unconscious was leaked?

Not only was he a disgusting misogynist, Gregory Quin was an eighty years old man who was closer to his grave than anyone I know.

“Of all the people, Dad. You know what the rumors say about him.” My voice trembled as I allowed a teardrop to escape, tracing a cold path down my cheek. Situations like this make me wish my mother was hale and hearty.

“Believe me, honey, if I had another option, I wouldn’t have done this, but this is the only way. Besides, the media likes to make successful men look bad. He might not be that bad.” He said, his voice a mixture of desperation and forced optimism. I chuckled dryly, wiping the tears from my eyes. Was he really trying to assure me?

“He might not be that bad? Can you listen to yourself? A man who has never failed to proclaim his hatred towards the female gender is the man you are wishing for your own daughter.”

“Believe me when I say that I have no other option. It breaks my heart that you think that I would intentionally bring this on you if I had another choice.” I shook my head at him. There was no way that he is saying and accepting that the only way to save himself is to sacrifice me. Which parent does that?

“You know mum wouldn't have allowed this to happen if she were here. It is the soulless being you married that is putting all these ideas in your head.” His face fell and he opened his mouth to speak. I took a deep breath hoping that I had successfully struck a nerve and he would tell me he would try his best.

“Well, she is not here is she? You have to think of others before you think of yourself. That's what I have been trying to teach you all these years.” Sandra cut in not giving my father the opportunity to speak.

I stared at him hoping he would say the word but he didn't. He just shook his head and avoided my gaze.

“What will it be, Samantha? You don’t have much time to decide.” His words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. This felt as though my heart had been stabbed several times and then, the pieces were trampled upon to worsen the effect.

I nodded, feeling a hollow ache in my chest. I am just going to marry an old man who has declared his hatred towards the female gender at every speech he makes and pray that God kills him faster.

It’s not going to be that hard, I told myself, though my heart screamed otherwise. Or maybe, I could run away. That was a brilliant idea. I should stop fighting the idea and make them think that I was in for it and plan my escape.

“Do I really have a choice? When is the wedding?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Tomorrow.” They answered simultaneously, and my eyes widened in shock, my heart pounding in my chest.

The hope that I had more time to create another plan was dismissed, replaced by a crushing sense of inevitability.

I have less than twenty-four hours left before I am handed over to some disgusting bag of old bricks. I need a drink.

I walked out of the office, not sparing any of them a glance, my vision blurred by unshed tears. The weight of their announcement pressed down on me, making each step feel like a monumental effort. It felt hard to do carry out a simple action like breath.

I made my way to my car, the cool metal of the door handle grounding me momentarily. I drove aimlessly for an hour, crying behind the wheels of my car and my mind playing over everything that just took place. Eventually, I stopped in front of a club, the neon lights flickering invitingly.

The thought of giving my virginity to someone as disgusting as Gregory Quin made me want to crawl out of my skin. I will rather give it to a random person.

With that thought, I walked into the club blaring with loud music and ordered the most alcoholic drink the club had.

My eyes gazed through the crowd searching for any suitable person and ended up on one person.

His eyes landed on me and I couldn't tear my gaze off him. It felt like there was an invisible thread pulling me to him.

His lips lifted up in a smirk and he raised his glass to me. But just as things were starting to heat up, the stranger's eyes locked onto something behind me.

His expression changed in an instant, and he muttered a single word that made my blood run cold:

"Run.”