BOUND BY FATE, HEALED BY LOVE

Ava’s POV

The cold marble floor sent shivers through my feet as I stood in the grand Carrington mansion. Its towering walls and expensive art screamed luxury, but to me, it was nothing more than a golden cage. My mother had worked here as a maid for ten years before she died giving birth to me. That single act had marked me as a stain on the pristine image of this family.

Mr. Carrington—my father—acknowledged me in silence, never in words. His wife, Mrs. Carrington, despised me with every breath she took. To her, I was the daughter of “the help,” an unwanted reminder of her husband’s mistakes. My half-siblings? They barely remembered I existed unless they needed someone to blame.

But today, something was different. Something was brewing.

“Ava,” Mrs. Carrington’s sharp voice cut through my thoughts, dragging me into the sitting room where she waited with my father. She sat stiffly on one of the ornate chairs, her lips pressed into a thin line. Mr. Carrington stood by the fireplace, avoiding my gaze as always.

“You’ve been called here for an important matter,” she began, her voice as cold as the marble beneath my feet. “You’ll be married into the Williams family.”

I blinked, sure I had misheard her. “Married?”

“Yes, married,” she snapped, her tone impatient, as though I were too slow to grasp the gravity of her words. “You’ll meet them today. The arrangements are already finalized.”

I opened my mouth to protest but stopped when I caught the look in her eyes—steely, unyielding. She was daring me to say no, daring me to fight back. But what was the point? My life had never been mine to control.

“Do I get a say in this?” I asked, my voice low but firm.

Mrs. Carrington’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Of course not. This is your duty, Ava. Be grateful we’ve even found someone willing to marry you.”

The words stung, but I bit back the retort bubbling in my throat. Arguing with her was like punching a brick wall—painful and pointless.

“Who… who is he?” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Lucas Williams,” she said simply. “You’ll meet him soon.”

I had heard of the Williams family—wealthy, powerful, untouchable. But their son, Lucas, was another story. Rumor had it he had been in a terrible car accident that left him crippled. Since then, he had withdrawn from the world, turning cold and distant.

A perfect match for the unwanted daughter of the Carringtons, I thought bitterly.

Hours later, I found myself sitting stiffly in the back seat of a sleek black car as it sped toward the Williams estate. Mrs. Carrington sat beside me, her face blank but her eyes sharp. The silence between us was suffocating, broken only by the hum of the engine.

“Do try not to embarrass yourself,” she said suddenly, her tone laced with disdain.

I gave her a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll do my best to live up to your high expectations.”

Her glare could have melted steel. I turned to look out the window, hiding the smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. Small victories.

When we arrived, the Williams mansion loomed ahead, even more intimidating than the Carrington estate. Its dark stone walls and towering gates gave it an almost gothic appearance, like something out of a suspense novel.

The butler greeted us at the door, his face unreadable as he led us into the grand sitting room. The Williams family was already there. Mr. and Mrs. Williams exuded power, their gazes piercing as they assessed me. But it was the man in the wheelchair who held my attention.

Lucas Williams.

He was tall, even sitting down, with dark hair and sharp features that seemed carved from stone. His piercing gray eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. There was something in his gaze—curiosity, suspicion, maybe even anger.

“So,” he said, his voice smooth but cold, “this is the girl.”

My cheeks flushed under his scrutiny. “And you must be Lucas,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

“Observant,” he replied dryly, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Mrs. Carrington cleared her throat, her false smile plastered across her face. “Ava is delighted to meet you.”

“Am I?” I muttered under my breath, earning a sharp elbow from her.

Lucas chuckled, the sound low and unexpected. “At least she’s honest.”

Mr. Williams leaned forward, his expression stern. “This marriage is important for both families. I trust there will be no… complications.”

“No complications,” Lucas echoed, his gaze never leaving mine. There was a challenge in his eyes, as if he were daring me to prove him wrong.

As the evening dragged on, small talk filled the air like smoke, thick and suffocating. Mrs. Carrington and Mrs. Williams exchanged polite barbs disguised as compliments, while Mr. Carrington stayed silent, blending into the background like furniture.

Lucas, however, seemed to find amusement in watching me squirm under the weight of their expectations.

“So, Ava,” he said suddenly, breaking the awkward silence. “What do you think of all this?”

I hesitated, glancing at Mrs. Carrington, whose warning glare could have set me on fire. “I think it’s… unexpected,” I said carefully.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s one way to put it. You don’t strike me as the type who likes surprises.”

“I don’t,” I admitted, surprising myself. “But I’ve learned to live with them.”

His smirk returned, but this time, it didn’t reach his eyes. “Haven’t we all?”

There was something in his tone that made me pause—a bitterness that mirrored my own. For the first time, I wondered if he felt as trapped as I did.

As we left the Williams estate, the tension in the car was palpable. Mrs. Carrington’s lips were pressed so tightly together they were nearly invisible.

“You could have tried harder to make a good impression,” she snapped.

“I wasn’t aware I was auditioning,” I shot back, my patience wearing thin.

Her glare was icy, but I didn’t care. For once, I felt something other than resignation. I felt defiance.

As the car sped through the dark streets, I couldn’t help but wonder what the future held. Lucas Williams was a mystery, one I wasn’t sure I wanted to solve. But one thing was clear—this wasn’t just a marriage. It was something far more complicated, far more dangerous.

And I was right in the middle of it.