Chapter 1: Miss to Mrs

AZALEA’S POV 

“You will marry him.” Helen’s sharp voice cut through my heart like a double-edged sword.

I looked up at my father who was sitting beside her, eating as if his wife didn't just drop a bomb. The fact that he was sitting at ease, not bothered by Helen's declaration wasn't even a surprise, but it made my heart ache.

Why can't she marry off her own daughter if she was desperately in need of money? After all, it was her obsession with money and her extravagant way of spending that has rendered my father's business useless and now the company is at the brink of bankruptcy. 

I had a lot to say and a lot of questions to ask, but all of them rested on the tip of my tongue until I washed them down with a glass of juice. 

“That man has been bedridden for three years. Nobody knows if he'd wake up. If Azalea marries him, she's as good as a widow!” Lionel, my stepbrother, interceded.

For a brief moment, the clank of cutleries against plates ceased, and an agonizing silence issued before my father lifted his head and cleared his throat, knowing that everyone was waiting for him to make the final decision. What he says, stands. 

“The offer is mouthwatering and we can't afford to lose the opportunity. You can think of the fact that he has zero chances of waking up as a good thing because you would be free. With a good lawyer, you can break off the marriage and even have benefits to start over within a year.” Everything about Morgan Peyton is a business transaction, even his daughter.

“It's not like she is not deformed. Let's be more realistic here, it would help her life. No man will settle for a woman whose vocal cords are malfunctioning.” Helen added with a snort. It was so kind of her to sugarcoat my defect of speech with grammar.

Why was everyone avoiding the fact that I am engaged to be married next month to another man and our wedding plans have been in progress for over two weeks?

This is my life! I have a say in it, and I won't be forced to marry someone that I barely know, a man who has been in a coma for three years with no hope of recovery! I don't deserve this! 

Ah, I wish I could say those words out loud to my father. With self-loath, I drained the rest of my juice, washing down everything that I could have said, and put the glass down on the table with an unnecessary force. Everyone watched as I pulled back my chair and left the dining room. 

In my room, I stared at my phone as if it was the source of my problem. I don't have friends, nobody to confide in. But I was never as lonely as I felt at that moment. Dread washed over me at the thought that I was alone in this world.

At moments like this, I have only one person to turn to and I am about to lose that person because of my father's decision.

My fiance, Leo, was my best friend, and over the years, he has been there for me through the storms and sunshine. My father has allowed us to be together since his father is the biggest investor in his company. He was family and so they didn't question us when we started dating a year before he proposed.

Not sure why I needed to call Leo and how I intended to explain everything to him, I dialled his number and impatiently paced my room while I waited for him to pick up. Maybe I needed his reassuring voice to soothe me. He didn't pick up the first ring until it diverted to voicemail, then I redialed and he picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hello, Zara? I have been texting you, I'm still waiting for you, Sweetheart.” Leo hurriedly said as soon as the line connected.

“Wha…what?” I tried to keep the words flowing, but my speech organs disappointed me as usual. When I feel tense, I just don't speak at all because the words get harder to formulate.

I can't believe what I just heard. Did he even look at the phone's screen to see the caller before receiving the call and why was he mistaking me for my stepsister, Zara? With an aching heart, I sighed into the phone and was about to end the call when I heard a familiar voice speak from his end. 

“Hey, honey. I'm so sorry for coming late. You know my family and their tradition for weekend brunch.” That was Zara’s unmistakable sarcastic voice!  

How long has this been going on? Right under my nose? No wonder she had excused herself halfway into her meal and dashed out while her mother roasted me. Did Leo totally forget that the line was still connected?

“Oh, finally! I do wonder how I managed to date that dumb woman for years. Who was I kidding when I proposed to her? Whatever made her think for a second that I would spend the rest of my life with her!” Leo’s words made me sink to the floor as my heart split into two equal parts, each part dropping on my feet.

“We still need the money, and my father is making it easier for that to happen. Be patient, the world will be ours soon.” Zara's voice punctured the hollow that had become my heart and tore the two equal parts into a thousand tiny, uneven pieces.

“Yes, my queen. We will rule the world together when this happens.” He chortled, and a long pause followed. “I thought a red dress made you look sexy, but your body has made green my favourite colour. I can't wait to rip it off.” I heard a giggle as he changed the topic, then a crash and creak. And then there's just the dirty sounds of them making out.

I became rooted to the marble floor of my room. I dropped my phone slowly and wished I would just disappear forever. My ears and eyes didn't make sense to me at that moment as tears rolled down my cheeks and my throat felt constricted.

What makes perfect sense is a dumb girl who has more health issues than anyone alive marrying a bedridden man. That is a match made in heaven and I'm going to accept my fate in good faith. I've nobody. I keep losing everyone and everything. They always leave in the end. A dead man wouldn't abandon me, ghosts normally haunt what belongs to them forever.

A knock on my door brought me out of my misery. My father walked in, followed by a man in a grey suit before I could even invite them in. I stood up slowly to stare at them.

“I will take you home, Mrs Dante Drummond.”