Chapter 5 - Shock

Stephanie‘s POV

The luxurious parlor is beautiful, like something out of an old-timey movie. I sit stiffly on the edge of a velvet armchair, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, facing the two strangers who claim to be my biological parents.

Their words reverberate in my mind. I had never suspected, nor had I ever dared to imagine, that I was not biologically related to my parents, the Sullivans.

It all suddenly makes sense, why I always felt that my parents were cold towards me since I was a child, why I always felt like an outsider in the family who only had a use for me.

They were never my flesh and blood to begin with.

A fragile hope stirs within me, tentative and trembling. Could they be the parents I've always longed for—the ones who might finally offer me the love and warmth I've been denied?

Their faces soften, and my mother - my real mother - reaches out to take my hand. “Stephanie,” she says softly. “It’s been far too long. I’m sorry we couldn’t find you sooner.”

"Why now?" I ask, my voice cracking slightly. "Why did you wait so long to find me? Why didn’t you…" The words falter, the question unfinished, but the ache behind it remains. Why didn’t you care before?

My father looks at me, his expression gentle.. "We didn’t wait on purpose," he says quietly.. "Circumstances were complicated. We’ve spent years searching for you."

He looked exactly like the loving father I had always dreamed of—gentle eyes, a kind smile, and an aura of warmth that made me want to trust him completely.

Maybe this time, I could finally have the family I’d always longed for.

I wanted to continue the conversation, to learn more about my family and relatives. Do I have siblings? What do they look like? Would they like me? These questions swirled in my mind, yearning for answers. But just as I was about to ask more, the conversation was suddenly interrupted.

"Stephanie," my father says, and there’s a firmness in his tone I don’t expect. “Why don’t you sit, so we can talk properly? There are matters we need to discuss.”

His words pull me up shorte. I didn't understand what he was saying at first. "Matters?" I repeat, my throat dry. "What kind of matters could possibly require my attention after all these years?"

"Family matters," my mother interjects smoothly, as if that answers anything. "It’s time for you to step into your role."

I blink at her, the weight of her words settling like a stone in my stomach. "What role?" My voice is sharper now, edged with suspicion.

“There is an ancestral agreement,” he begins, his tone measured, like he’s explaining a business transaction. “Our family has long been bound by a partnership with the Rush family. Your sister…” He pauses, exchanging a glance with my mother. “She has refused to fulfill her part of the agreement.”

The words are sinking in before I even realize it. My heart starts to race. “What does that have to do with me?” I ask cautiously, though a sinking feeling tells me I already know.

My mother’s gaze sharpens. The soft look vanished from her face.  “It’s time for you to step into your rightful place,” she says simply. "Your sister’s refusal leaves us with no choice but to marry you off in her place. This is an opportunity for you, especially now that you’ve divorced Mr. Sinclair."

Oh. It settles in then, the truth. I never did mention Vince’s full name… so the did know.

They knew where I was all along.

I stare at them, disgust curling in my gut.

So it is. My biological parents didn’t bring me back for the reasons I had imagined— it wasn’t about family or love. I was just shifted from being a mere commodity to another piece of trade for someone else.

Even though these people were supposed to be my real parents, it became painfully clear that no one had ever truly cared for me.

That longing for family I had just kindled was ridiculous.

“An opportunity?” My laugh is bitter, almost hysterical. “You think this is an opportunity? You’ve only just met me, and now you want me to marry someone I don’t even know?”

“It’s your duty, Stephanie.”

"Do you even hear yourselves?" I demand, my voice breaking. "You’re sitting there, talking about responsibility and honor, but where was your responsibility to me? Where was your honor when I was growing up in a house where I never felt wanted, never felt loved?"

“You don’t even know me. You didn’t bother to find me until you needed something from me. Now you expect me to sacrifice my life for your plans?”

“Enough,” my father snaps, rising from his seat. His eyes bore into mine, cold and unyielding. “This isn’t up for debate. The arrangement has been made, and your fiancé is waiting to meet you.”

The finality of his words sends a jolt through me. “You’ve already arranged it? You didn’t even think to ask if I wanted this?”

“We did what was necessary,” my mother replies smoothly. “And once you meet him, you’ll understand that this is the best decision for everyone.”

My hands tremble with barely contained fury. “You can’t make me do this,” I say, though my voice lacks the conviction I wish it held. “You have no right. You’ve never once, even pretended to act like real parents.”

“We are your parents,” my father says coldly. “This is what is expected of you. You’ll meet him, and you’ll see that this is an opportunity you should be grateful for.” He gave the servants a few brief instructions.

The door opens, and two strong men step in.

My heart pounds as they gesture for me to follow.

I dig my heels in, panic rising in my chest. “You can’t just—”

“Stephanie,” my mother interrupts sharply. “Stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

The two men don’t speak as they guide me toward another room. When the door swings open, the world tilts. Standing in the center of the room is a man I never expected to see again. It leaves me breathless, confusion making my vision swim

Henry.

His presence is magnetic, commanding the room in a way that sends my heart into overdrive. He’s dressed impeccably, his tailored suit accentuating his tall, broad frame. His dark eyes lock onto mine, sharp and unreadable, and for a moment, it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room.

My chest tightens, my breath catching. What is he doing here?

My father steps forward, his tone unnervingly casual. “Henry,” he says, gesturing toward me. “Come and meet your fiancée.”

What? Engaged to Henry?

When our eyes meet, his dark green ones dim slightly.  

His gaze is full of authority and directness, as if I were his prey and he intended to devour me whole.  

“Stephanie,” he says, his voice low and seductive, “It's good to see you again so soon. I hope you're feeling better.”  

He turns to my father. “Could we have a moment alone?”  

“Oh… okay,” my father says, leaving and shutting the door behind him.  

“Please, have a seat.”  

He sits on the couch and gestures to the seat opposite him.  

I sit down, and his alluring presence washes over me.  

“What do you want to talk about, Henry?” I ask, trying to maintain my composure, even though part of me wanted to yell. "You already knew about the engagement the day you were in the hospital?”  

“My grandfather is in poor health and hopes to see me married in his lifetime,” Henry says, his deep voice resonating through the room. “So, I must honor the union as soon as possible.”  

He takes out a document, pushing it across the table toward me, his eyes never leaving mine.  

“This is a contract,” he says. “I want you to be my contract wife for two years.”