Chapter One

Alkira

I stared down at the ring on my finger and took a deep breath. My lips were sore from biting them continuously. This was it. I had to do this. Marrying into a wealthy family was my only option.

Call me a gold digger if you like, but you wouldn’t understand, even if I tried to explain. Marrying a man with money was my only way out—my family’s only way out.

When I was a little girl, I dreamed of the perfect wedding with the man of my dreams. I never imagined it would end up like this. Marrying a man for his money—something I was always against—is exactly what I’m doing now.

No one wants to marry a beast. But what choice did I have? As I said, I had none.

I looked over at my husband. He took another sip of wine and clenched his fist into a tight ball. He barely looked at me. Even our kiss at the church was simple and quick.

This is the worst, yet somehow the best, decision I’ve ever made. I kept staring at his brown hair, light brown eyes, and slightly pink lips. He was about 6’3”, slightly muscular.

I looked over at my mother and her boyfriend. They kept staring, a small smirk spreading across their faces. They got what they always wanted—one of her children married into a wealthy family so they would never have to work again.

My brother, on the other hand, was furious at me for taking such a drastic step—marrying into a family with a man I don’t love. Just for our mother. I guess he’s the only one who actually cares. But what can I do?

Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves. Many wealthy people were here. I guess my family were the only low-ranking guests in the room. From top models to businessmen, even the freaking prime minister! I could hear their whispers:

“How could he marry that gold digger?”
“Eww… look at her.”
“All that jewelry can’t hide her poor, damsel figure.”

He leaned over, cupped my face, and kissed me. I felt the tension as our lips touched. I wanted all this to be over—but at the same time, I didn’t. Because when it’s over… I’ll have to submit myself to this stranger, and that… that’s terrifying.

We aren’t going on a honeymoon, but I know what he wants. Typical man. I’ve never felt this much pain—until now. Everything I ever dreamt of is now damaged. I’ll never become a fashion designer. Now, I’m just a housewife.

I should have run away.

---

Two Hours Later

I followed Zane to the master bedroom. Rose petals covered the floor and the bed. I swallowed hard, knowing what was expected of me. I walked toward him and began to undress.

He looked surprised and stepped back.

“What are you doing, woman?!”

“I… I’m submitting myself to you,” I said, clearing my throat as I stepped toward him again. “As… as your wife.”

He let out an evil laugh, then suddenly turned serious and stepped closer. He grabbed my cheeks and stared down at me.

“You’re nothing but a low-ranking gold digger. Oh—and a whore. Being with you is like being with a dog. And I don’t do dogs.” He chuckled and released his grip. “I’m sick of women like you. All you do is chase rich men so you can sleep with them. I curse this day! My room—this room—you will never step foot in it again. Ever! Every night, I’ll bring a different woman here, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He pressed his index finger to my forehead.

“I dare you to bring a man into my house, woman. I dare you! If I’m on the left, you take the right. I don’t want you anywhere near me. When my friends come to visit, go to your room and mind your business, like the child you are. You made a mistake marrying me. I am a dragon—I’ll breathe fire down your neck! I am a lion—I will tear you apart. I plan on ruining your life… Anna.”

He shoved me aside and opened the door.

“It’s Alkira,” I muttered.

“Jasmin! Jasmin!” he barked.

She must be one of his women. Within a minute, a woman in her late forties entered, dressed in a maid’s uniform, her hair tied neatly in a ponytail.

“Hello, Mrs. Johns—”

“Don’t call her that!” Zane snapped. “Take this woman to the guest room.”

“But sir, sh—”

“Unless you want to be fired, do as I say! It’s not hard to find another maid!”

She quickly nodded and signaled for me to follow her.

I followed her down the hallway to another enormous room, though it was smaller than his.

“Just let me know if you need anything, Mrs. Johnstone.”

“Just call me Alkira,” I replied.

She nodded and left. I closed the door and sank to the floor. My life has always been a mess. The idea of marrying someone who actually loves me is off the table now.

I’m stuck with this beast.

Once the first tear fell, the rest followed. They poured like rain.

My life. My dreams. Everything is ruined.

Because of that—

I sniffled and wiped the thought away.

---

Zane

I felt bad for how I spoke to Jasmin. She’s been working for me for seven years and has always been amazing. But right now… I’m pissed.

I grabbed eight bottles of wine from the kitchen and headed to my room. I’m going to drink this woman out of my system.

Marriage was never an option for me. I hate the very idea of being committed. Spending life with someone forever is stupid, and I don’t plan on doing it.

I have no feelings for this woman—and I never will. Other than showing the public we’re a happy couple, I want nothing to do with her. Especially not sexually. She’s not my type, and she never will be.

I should have never agreed to this marriage. But my mother threatened me. Like she always does. Then she gave me that speech about how much she loves me and how this is for the best. About how I need to stop being a man-whore.

Apparently, marrying a gold digger is better.

I slammed my door shut and dove into bed. I switched on the TV. Our wedding was already making headlines, and people were already speculating how long the marriage would last.

If I had refused to marry her, my mother would’ve ruined me. She says she loves me, but she cares more about appearances. All she ever talks about is how embarrassed she is that I’m always seen with different women every week.

It’s my life!

If that thing hadn’t happened years ago, she wouldn’t have anything on me. It’s not like I can deny it—she has proof.

I grabbed my phone from my pants pocket, planning to call one of my girls… but changed my mind.

I’m sure the paparazzi are swarming outside my house right now.

I’m tormented. And frustrated.