ELIZABETH POV
Four years. That was how long I’d been gone. Four years since my father threw me out like garbage, pregnant, disgraced, a stain on his reputation. Four years since I stopped pretending I had a real family. And yet, here I was. The gates of the Harper estate loomed in front of me, black iron twisted like the ribs of a skeleton. Cold, proud, just like the man who raised me. A place I swore I’d never return to, yet I was back,because he called. "Maybe he’s finally ready to be a father," Grandma had said when he called her, voice full of hope I didn’t share. I knew better. If Robert Harper was reaching out after four years, it wasn’t love calling me home. It was power. Control. Leverage. And I was right. A maid answered the door like I was some unwelcome guest. Not a daughter. Not family. I stepped into the same cold, polished marble foyer. The chandeliers still sparkled like they belonged in a palace. The silence pressed in like always, full of judgment. This place had never felt like home. It never would. “Miss Harper,” the maid said stiffly, motioning toward the living room. I walked in. There they were—Father, Jessica, and Josephine. The perfect family portrait. Rich, beautiful, and hollow. Jessica looked up from her phone and rolled her eyes. “She’s still blonde,” she said under her breath, but loud enough. I bit back a laugh. Four years, and she was still obsessed with my hair color. Josephine didn’t even look at me. “Sit,” Father said. No greeting. No welcome. Just a command. I sat. He leaned forward, fingers steepled, expression unreadable. “Let’s not pretend we’re here for a reunion. I’ve made decisions regarding both you and Jessica. Final decisions.” Jessica sat straighter, her eyes suddenly glowing with interest. “I’m under considerable financial strain,” he continued, like we were discussing stocks and not our lives. “It’s not permanent, but timing is everything in business, and I need powerful allies.” His voice was sharp. Clipped. “I’ve arranged marriages for both of you.” Silence dropped like a bomb. Jessica blinked. “Wait—what?” “You heard me. You’ll both be married. The contracts have been signed in principle, and the final agreement will be sealed tomorrow.” My heart stopped. “Tomorrow?” He didn’t blink. “You’ll each be in separate rooms. The men don’t know I have two daughters. We’re keeping this quiet until it’s done.” Jessica looked like she was about to cry from joy. “Jessica, you’re marrying Christian Reed,” he announced. Jessica gasped, her mouth falling open. “Christian Reed? Are you serious?” She turned to Josephine. “Mum, oh my God! Christian Reed!” Josephine finally smiled. “He agreed last week.” Jessica squealed, actually squealed, and clapped her hands like a child on Christmas morning. “I’m going to be Mrs. Christian Reed.” I sat frozen. Christian Reed. I’d heard the name. Everyone had. The billionaire,He was young, powerful, ruthless. And gorgeous, if the tabloids were anything to go by. My heart sank—not from jealousy, but confusion. Why call me back just to rub it in? Jessica giggled beside me. “Finally! A husband that matches my worth.” My stomach twisted. “And you,” my father said, turning his eyes on me like I was some inconvenience he needed to clean up, “you’ll marry Peter Johnson.” The words felt like ice. Jessica stilled. “Wait. Peter? As in Peter Johnson, the sixty-five-year-old CEO?” My father nodded. “Yes.” “Ew,” Jessica muttered under her breath. I found my voice. Barely. “He’s... old.” Father’s eyes narrowed. “He’s rich. He’s agreed to clear part of my debts if you marry him.” “A part?” He ignored me. “You’ll meet your respective husbands tomorrow,” he said, like we were items on a to-do list. “Separate rooms. No confusion. I expect full cooperation.” Jessica laughed. “That’s why you called her back? To marry her off to Grandpa Johnson while I get the prince?” Josephine didn’t say a word. I stood. “You’re selling me off for money.” “You sold yourself when you opened your legs and got pregnant,” he snapped. My breath caught. Jessica smirked, victorious. “You humiliated this family. You owe me.” “I’m not marrying some old—” “If you don’t,” he said, standing too, “you’ll never see your son again.” Silence. Thick. Choking. I couldn’t breathe. “You bastard,” I whispered. He stepped closer. “Watch your tongue, Elizabeth. Or I’ll bury you so far no one will remember you exist.” I clenched my fists. “Why didn’t you call Jessica back to marry him?” He smiled, cruel and cold. “Because she’s valuable. You are... expendable.” My throat burned. But I didn’t cry. “You’ll do this. You’ll sign the contract. And you’ll be invisible until it’s over.” I stared at him, stunned. “Invisible?” He nodded. “No appearing at dinner. No unnecessary talking. And tomorrow, no drama. He walk in. You sign. You leave. Am I clear?” I nodded slowly. He turned his back to me like I was already gone. “Peter arrives at ten. Christian at eleven. The rooms will be prepared. I expect you to be dressed and silent.” Jessica grinned like she’d won some twisted game. “You’ll always be second best, Lizzy.” I walked out before I broke. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. But inside—I shattered.Christian pov The house was quiet. Too quiet. It had been this way for days no footsteps echoing in the hallway, no scent of her perfume lingering in the living room, no accidental glances. Just silence, and the ghost of her presence moving around me like smoke I couldn't catch. She’d been avoiding me. And maybe that was smart. Maybe I deserved it. She barely came down to eat. She didn’t try to talk to me. She moved like a ghost and I let her. Because if I confronted her now, I might say something I wouldn’t take back. Or worse—I might touch her again. I came home late again, later than usual. I told myself it was work, but it wasn’t. I just didn’t want to face what the air between us had turned into. The look in her eyes that morning—hurt, defiance, and something else I hadn’t dared to name—it hadn’t left my mind since. I loosened my tie as I walked through the hallway, my footsteps echoing against polished marble. The staff had all turned in. Nana was nowher
Christian pov She knocked once. Soft. Like she was scared to even touch the door. Good. She should be. “Come in,” I said, not bothering to look up from the folder in my hands. She stood in front of me like a girl caught stealing — posture tense, hands fidgeting, eyes avoiding mine. But all I could think about was the way she looked twelve hours ago. Sweaty, wild and lost in music. The fucking center of attention. Men stared like she was theirs to take. And she didn’t even flinch. The same girl who sat silent as a lamb during our contract signing. The same girl who barely looked me in the eye, who looked like she'd shatter if I raised my voice. I thought she was dull. Easily forgettable. A mistake I could tolerate. But last night? She wasn’t forgettable. She was fire. Dangerous. Reckless. And she was mine. She didn’t speak, just stood there like she didn’t know what to do next. That made two of us. Who the hell was she? I should’ve tossed her out the mo
ELIZABETH POV The pounding in my head felt like a punishment. Like karma with steel boots. I groaned and rolled onto my side, pressing my palm against my forehead. My mouth was dry, my stomach queasy, and everything smelled like regret. Regret... and perfume. My dress was still on. My shoes were off. The glitter on my skin had transferred to the silk sheets, like guilt tattooed in shimmer. I didn’t have to remember everything to know I messed up. But then it hit me. Christian. I shot upright. “Oh, shit,” I muttered, wincing at the sting behind my eyes. The memories came in flashes: the bass thumping in my veins, the drinks, the girls, the dancing. His voice cutting through it all like a blade. That furious look on his face. The hard grip on my waist. His hand smacking my ass in front of the whole damn club. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Or was it shame? You belong to me now. I shivered. I flopped back against the pillows, burying my face in my ha
Christian POV I pushed out of the club’s entrance, the heavy door slamming shut behind me, silencing the chaos. The guards were already waiting by the car, tension carved into their stances as they opened the back door. I dropped her down—none too gently—her feet wobbling in those ridiculous high heels. She swayed. I caught her chin between my fingers, forcing her to meet my eyes. “Jesus,” I muttered darkly, leaning in, “you reek of alcohol.” Her lips were parted, glossy and red from too much lipstick, her eyes glassy, unfocused. She looked up at me like a fucking lamb caught in the wolf’s jaws. “Did you forget you’re someone’s wife, Elizabeth? My wife ffs! Or did you come out tonight hoping to be reminded what that means?” She said nothing. Smart girl. I dragged my thumb across her bottom lip, smearing the red gloss. “You think you can flash this mouth, this body… and I’ll just look the other way?” I smiled. Cold. Dangerous. “Get in the car.Elizabeth” She slid
Christian pov I shouldn’t have come back. Not yet. Two more weeks of silence would’ve served her right. But something about the quiet in my hotel suite had begun to itch beneath my skin. The thought of her alone, waiting, maybe learning her place—should’ve satisfied me. It didn’t. So here I was, back in the city sooner than I planned, stepping out of my car and into the marble entrance of the penthouse. The air smelled the same—cold, expensive, sterile. My guards straightened as I passed. Daniel trailed behind me, briefcase in hand, quiet as always. I didn’t say a word to them. My mind was elsewhere. Where is she? I hadn’t called once since I left. She didn’t deserve that kind of consideration. This marriage was a transaction, not a romance. But still... I expected her to behave. I walked through the corridor and pulled off my gloves, pausing at the base of the staircase. “Nana,” I called. Her familiar steps shuffled across the upper landing, and then
Elizabeth POV The second I stepped through the door, the world changed. It was loud, hot, and alive. The lights flashed in purples and blues, cutting through clouds of artificial smoke. People swayed to the heavy beat, bodies packed tight, laughter echoing in pockets through the music. I walked to the bar, ordering a vodka soda. Something light, I told myself. Just enough to loosen up. Just enough to forget. I sipped and scanned the crowd, feeling for the first time in ages like I wasn’t trapped in someone else’s cage. “You look like a fucking goddess,” someone said beside me. I turned to see a tall girl with copper-red curls and glitter dusted across her cheeks. She looked drunk. And beautiful. “I’m Kim,” she added, leaning in. “And this is Tessa and Billie.” She gestured to two other girls, equally gorgeous, all dressed like trouble. “Elizabeth,” I replied. “Well, Elizabeth, you’re officially part of the girl gang for tonight,” Tessa declared, raising her shot