A Love Forged In Ruins

Layla's pov 

Today marks my second anniversary with Mark. He's been my boyfriend since I met him at a café two years back. It was love instantly, and I have no regrets about having him in my life. I invited him to come to the house to celebrate, but he forgot it's our anniversary and that I want to surprise him. 

My car stops in front of my parents’ mansion, a place I previously considered home but that now felt like a foreign land. The sight of the grand house makes me feel uneasy, Iike I don't belong here anymore.The expansive windows shimmered in the afternoon light, creating lengthy shadows on the beautifully kept lawn. This place used to feel like home, but now it feels cold, distant–just like my family. I came back sooner than anticipated, aiming to catch Mark off guard. I considered that we might share the afternoon, enjoying laughter as we once did. 

I step out of the car, holding my gift for Mark and head towards the door. The front door was slightly open, which was unusual. Pushing it open, I step inside. The sound of my heels echoing on the marble floors, sharp and loud, sending chills down my spine. I ascend the stairs, holding the tiny box tightly in my hand, but the discomfort in my stomach intensifies with every step. 

Then I could hear it–a laugh. Mark's laugh, floating down the hallway, light and familiar. I'd recognise it anywhere.

He's talking to someone. His voice sounds relaxed, even happy. My heart beats faster as I walk towards the sound, my steps slower now, my chest tightening. 

I opened the door to my room. And there they stood—Mark and Celeste, entwined in one another's embrace. My stepsister, the family's favorite, and my boyfriend, the guy who professed his love for me just last night.

Celeste, always the performer, pulled away from him, gasping like she's the one who's been wronged. “I didn’t want you to find out this way.” she says, her voice calm, almost bored.

Find out this way? Not a hint of remorse in her tone. Simply shocked that her secret had been revealed.

Mark let out a deep sigh, brushing a hand through his hair. Looking at me like I'm the one causing a scene "Listen, Layla” he says, his voice so calm it makes my blood boil. “I was going to tell you. Celeste and I... it just happened.” 

It just happened? My chest feels tight, and my hands tremble as I step back. The betrayal cuts deep, the pain almost too much to bear. 

"Was everything a lie, then?" I ask, each word taking a part of my soul. "Everything you said to me? Every promise?" 

Mark had the audacity to appear emotionless. “Let’s be honest, Layla. Things haven't been good between us for a while. You've simply been too absorbed in your own problems that you didn't even notice.” 

My problems? My anger surged as the pieces began to fit together. He was accusing me, making the situation even worse. 

And Celeste... she just stood there, watching me with that same self-satisfied smile she always had. She had won. She had seized it all—my family's love, their attention, and now, the man I thought I would spend my life with.

Unable to endure it any longer, I rushed downstairs. Each step felt more heavy, the air denser. I needed fresh air. I had to break free from the distorted reality that my life had turned into. 

But the nightmare had just begun. 

At the foot of the stairs, my parents stood waiting, their faces emotionless and calm. My mother had her arms folded and wore a serious expression. My father, glancing aside, avoiding my gaze, his jaw tense. 

“Mom, Dad,” I started, fighting to maintain my calm. "Did you know?" 

My mom looked away, unwilling to meet my stare. Dad cleared his throat. “Layla, you need to understand.” 

Understand?. His words hit me like a blow to the body. My parents were supporting her. Protecting both of them, as if my suffering was insignificant. 

"Oh, I understand." "So, I’m the problem in this family, is that right?" My voice rised, anger and heartbreak mixing in every word.

My father's stare grew intense. "Layla, stop being so dramatic." "We expected more maturity from you." 

Maturity?. I bit my lip to prevent it from quivering. I wasn’t the one being dramatic. I was the one being betrayed. 

I felt the urge to run, to leave this house as fast as I could. But my mother's voice stopped me.

“There's something else you should know”

I turned slowly, preparing myself. 

“Celeste will be inheriting Monroe Enterprises.” “It’s what’s best for the family,” she said, her voice cold and detached, as if she's reading off a grocery list. "You... you've always been too gentle for the corporate world, Layla," 

The room rotated, and I fought to maintain my balance. Monroe Enterprises belonged to me. I spent years getting ready, giving up so much, delaying my dreams to grasp every detail, each strategy, and every connection. Everything had been for this—my future, my heritage. And now, in just one sentence, they were giving it to her. Just like that.

“And regarding you,” my father said, cutting through my thoughts, “we’ve set up your marriage to Damian Blackwood. “Do you remember him?” 

My thoughts faded away. Damian Blackwood—the controversial offspring of an ex-billionaire, whose family's dynasty had fallen apart due to accusations of fraud and dishonesty. He was everything I despised—arrogant, ruthless and dangerous.

"That's meant to be Celeste's duty," I said, my voice rising. “She is the one who's supposed to marry for the family.” “Not I.” 

My mother let out a sigh, a look of contempt crossing her features. "You don't have a choice , Layla. Celeste is the future of this family now. “You'll have to do this for her—and for us." 

"Is it for her?" My laughter felt empty. "You're throwing my life away for her?" "You want me to marry a total sranger I don't even love, just to make her life easier?" 

My father's stare became intense. "It's not about love, Layla." It's about responsibility. You will be taken care of. "Plus, you require the funds for your grandmother, right?" 

The reference to my grandmother broke whatever remained of my determination. She was the only person who had ever shown me unconditional care. The only person who had cared for me without expecting anything in return. She was unwell, and the medical expenses were pilling more quickly than I could handle. Without assistance, I wouldn’t be able to afford her treatment

I felt the walls closing in on me. This isn't a choice, it's a trap.

This was my decision: give up my happiness, my future, or witness the only person who ever mattered to me in pain. 

The voice of my father was steady, unyielding. "Consider this an opportunity, Layla."A chance to prove your worth to this family. Show us that you can make the right choices.”

The right choice. Like I had a say in the situation. 

“Alright,” I murmured, my voice barely heard. The words felt poisonous on my tongue. "I will do it." “I will marry Damian Blackwood.”