Serena POV
My heels struck the marble floor in sharp, frantic clicks as I crossed the penthouse, my pulse racing faster with every step.
I tightened my grip on the velvet box in my hand.
Inside was a gold bracelet engraved with our initials. Three years, sealed in gold. Tonight was our anniversary. I had replayed this moment so many times that it already felt like it was real.
Damien's smile, his arms pulling me close, his surprised laugh when he saw how much I remembered.
I reached the front door and knocked.
Hard.
"Damien! I'm here. Happy anniversary!"
Silence.
I frowned and knocked again, harder this time. No answer. My call went straight to voicemail.
Maybe he's planning something, I told myself, forcing a smile that no one could see.
The doorknob turned easily beneath my hand.
The apartment was too quiet.
"Damien?" My voice wavered despite my effort to stay calm.
Then I heard it.
A soft moan.
My stomach dropped.
I followed the sound down the hallway, my fingers tightening around the box like it was the only thing keeping me upright. The bedroom door was slightly open.
I pushed it wide.
The world cracked.
Damien was there, on the bed with Lila.
My stepsister.
For a moment, none of us moved.
Lila's lips curved into a slow, triumphant smile before she remembered to look shocked. Damien, sitting against the headboard, barely flinched.
"Serena," he said calmly, like I had interrupted a business call. "Don't make this dramatic."
Dramatic.
"We've been unhappy for a while," he continued. "You were always in the way. Lila understands what it means to be a wife. I only stayed because you made things… convenient."
Each word landed like a blade.
"I'm done pretending," he finished. "It's over."
I couldn't breathe.
Lila pulled the blanket up to her chest and looked at me with wide, innocent eyes.
"Please don't blame me," she said softly. Too softly. "I never meant for you to find out like this."
Her gaze sharpened.
"You should've stopped clinging to him."
The box slipped from my fingers and hit the bedroom floor.
Three years.
Gone.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear something apart.
Instead, I turned and walked away.
The cold night air burned my lungs as I ran. By the time I reached home, my hands were shaking so badly I could barely unlock the door to my room.
I showered until my skin stung, trying to wash off the humiliation, the betrayal, the smell of them.
Then I collapsed onto my bed.
A knock came soon after.
"Miss Serena," the maid said gently, standing in the doorway, "your parents would like to see you."
I already knew this wouldn't end with comfort.
The living room felt cold and lifeless when I entered.
My father and stepmother sat side by side on the sofa, faces carved from stone.
Lila was there too, sitting upright, composed, elegant, innocent.
"Serena," my stepmother said, folding her hands. "It's time we were honest. Lila is the better match for Damien."
My chest tightened.
"You knew?" My voice shook. "You let this happen?"
My father didn't deny it. He cleared his throat instead.
"That isn't why you're here."
I looked at him, suddenly cold all over.
"The family needs stability," he said smoothly. "The Crowe family is willing to help but only if their son marries one of our daughters."
My heart sank.
"That will be you."
So that was it.
Damien wasn't the only thing they were willing to trade.
"If you refuse," my father added calmly, rising to his feet, "you should be prepared to face the consequences."
"What consequences?" I asked.
"That's not up for discussion," my stepmother snapped. "Just understand this family won't protect you anymore."
Silence pressed in around me.
I straightened.
"Then I refuse."
My stepmother scoffed. "You're being foolish."
"No," I said quietly. "I'm choosing myself."
I turned and walked away before they could see my hands shaking.
I thought betrayal was the worst thing that night would bring.
I was wrong.
Because of the cost of survival, I learned,
It was a marriage I never chose to have.
**Ethan's POV **
"You're thirty-two."
My father's voice cut through the dining room like a blade.
I didn't look up from my plate. The steak had already gone cold.
"So?" I said calmly. Too calmly.
"So you're not married," he continued, sharp and unyielding. "No wife. No heir. No stability."
I finally lifted my gaze.
"What I have," I said evenly, "is a company that's expanding globally. Contracts to close. Acquisitions to finalize. I don't have time to chase romance just to satisfy your timeline."
His lips curved into a humorless smile.
"The company I gave you."
That made me set my cutlery down.
"It's not a gift," I said. "It's a global empire."
"And it exists because I allowed it to," he replied coolly.
I leaned back in my chair. "This isn't about marriage. This is about control."
"That's why I've made it easier for you," he said. "You'll be getting married."
My spine stiffened.
"No."
"You will," he continued without hesitation. "An arranged marriage. One of the Hale family's daughters."
Anger surged.
"You made that decision without my consent?" I snapped. "You don't get to decide my life."
"I don't need your permission."
I stood, palms pressing hard against the table. "Grandfather never forced you to marry."
His eyes darkened.
"That's because I already knew when to marry," he said flatly.
"You were four years old when I turned thirty."
The words hit harder than I expected.
"So this was planned," I said. "All of it."
"This is legacy," he replied. "Stability."
"I won't do it," I said coldly. "I won't marry a stranger because you decided it fits your schedule."
Silence fell.
Then his voice dropped, deliberate and final.
"If you refuse," he said, "you lose the company."
My jaw clenched.
"The board stands with me," he added. "Your authority exists because I gave it to you."
Rage burned through my chest.
"You've controlled my life since I was a child," I said tightly. "Even now. Even as an adult."
"I thought we all agreed this would be a peaceful breakfast," my mother said suddenly, her voice strained.
"Please...both of you..stop arguing."
It was too late.
I dropped my cutlery. The sound rang loudly in the room.
"I won't be forced," I said. "Not into marriage. Not into obedience."
I turned and walked out.
The night air was cold as I stepped outside. One of my guards opened the car door immediately.
I got in without a word.
As the car pulled away, the house shrinking behind me, my hands curled into fists.
A woman I didn't know.
A marriage used as leverage.
My father thought this would break me.
Instead, it drew the first line of war.