Prologue

 “Amara !”

The sharp voice of her father cut through her room just as her feet hit the floor. She had tied her bedsheets together, using them as a makeshift rope to climb out the window. It wasn’t her first time escaping—but this time, it felt different. Bigger.

As soon as she landed outside, she looked up—yep, there he was, staring right down at her from the second floor.

“Bye, Dad!” she called, forcing a smile and waving before snatching up her wallet that had fallen.

“Amara, get back here!”

“Not happening!” she yelled, already backing away.

“You can’t leave! Your wedding is tomorrow!”

“And I’m not showing up to it!” she shot back, spinning on her heel and sprinting away.

Her dad’s voice chased after her, and just when she thought she was in the clear, she heard the words that made her stomach drop.

“Armando! Go after her!”

Oh sh*t.

No way in hell was she getting caught. If Armando got to her first, she was screwed. Big time.

Without wasting another second, Amara ducked through a small hole in the bamboo fence—the same escape route she’d been using since high school. The exit led to a busy road, and if she could just make it there before her dad’s people did, she might actually have a chance.

Reaching the street, she frantically waved her hands, trying to stop any car that would notice her. Nobody did.

Her heart raced. She was practically dancing in place from anxiety. A black SUV approached—fast. Too fast.

Screw it.

She jumped in front of it.

Screech. Honk. Tires burned. Amara flinched, bracing herself for impact. But when she peeked, the car had stopped just in time.

She bolted to the driver’s side window and knocked hard.

It rolled down, revealing a pissed-off guy behind the wheel.

“Are you f*cking insane?!” he snapped.

“No time! Please help me!” she begged, completely ignoring the attitude.

The man narrowed his eyes. “I’m not falling for this crap. Try harder, lady.”

The engine rumbled back to life. Panic surged through her.

“There are people chasing me! If they catch me—I'm dead. Literally dead!”

He looked like he still wasn’t buying it.

Amara, desperate now, leaned half her body through the open window. He swore loudly, clearly not expecting that.

“I swear I’m not lying! They’re coming for me and if they catch me—God, they’ll kill me. Please. I’m begging you,” she said, forcing a few tears to fall.

And bingo. It worked.

“Get in.”

She blinked. “W-What?”

“Now!”

She didn’t wait for a second invitation. She climbed in, slammed the door shut, and he peeled away from the side of the road like something out of an action movie. As she looked back, she spotted Armando just arriving. Close call.

The guy didn’t speak. Not even a glance her way. Amara stared out the window, chewing on her lip, trying to think of where the hell she could go next. No friends. No relatives she trusted. Nothing.

Then his phone rang. He tapped a sleek white earpiece, and she listened in without meaning to.

“Mr. Fuentes’ daughter ran away? So the wedding’s off. Hah. That’s actually great news.”

Her blood ran cold.

Her eyes darted to the window again, refusing to let him see the way her face fell. She bit the inside of her cheek and gripped her hands so tight they started to hurt.

She escaped the wedding, alright. But fate just threw her into the car of the one man her father might’ve been planning to marry her off to.

Awesome. Just awesome.

This? This was a disaster in motion.

She was so, so screwed.

____________________________________________

Okay, I was literally freaking out in this guy’s car. My heart was racing, my brain was on full overthinking mode, and I kept glancing out the window like maybe, just maybe, I’d spot a place to crash for the night. Spoiler alert: I didn’t.

And now I was starting to spiral—what if this guy was the one my dad wanted me to marry? Like, the mystery groom in this whole surprise wedding setup? Yeah, I’ve never even seen the dude’s face. It’s giving medieval princess vibes, and not in a cute, fairytale way. More like “sold for a cow and three goats” kind of way.

And for what? I didn’t even date anyone just to avoid the drama. Now suddenly I’m supposed to be somebody’s wife? Nah. Hard pass. I am way too young, too pretty, and too full of dreams to be tied down to some random stranger with a ring.

I glanced at the guy next to me. He was totally focused on driving, like he wasn’t smuggling a runaway bride in his car. Pale skin, clear as hell. Thick brows that almost touched ‘cause of how deep he looked in thought. Sharp nose, slightly hooded eyes, thin lips with a hint of color, and a small mole on his chin. Also—glasses and messy bangs that half-covered one side of his face. Bro was unintentionally giving K-drama love interest.

“What’s your name?” he suddenly asked, making me jump.

Crap. I quickly looked away before he noticed I was full-on staring at him.

“A-Amelia,” I stammered. Almost said my real name. Close call. Real close.

“Who are your parents?”

Sh*t. I couldn’t tell him my dad’s name. That was basically a GPS to my real identity. And my mom’s been gone for years.

“A-Armando,” I lied.

Yeah, that’s actually the name of our head security. But whatever, he didn’t need to know that.

“Surname?”

Wait, what?

“Sorry, what?”

He side-eyed me for a second then looked back at the road. “Your family name.”

Right. Stay calm, Amara.

“Castillo,” I said, pulling that one out of thin air. At this point I was just collecting fake identities like Pokémon cards.

He didn’t say anything after that, so I let out a small sigh of relief. My heart, though? Still having a full-on panic attack in my chest.

“Your address?”

Okay, now I was in trouble. Should I fake an address? Ask him to drop me off at the police station? Nah. That would just make things messy. Way too risky.

“Just tell me where you live. I’ll drive you home,” he offered.

“A-About that…” I gave him the fakest smile known to man and looked down, pretending to be shy. Time to pull out my best acting chops.

He pulled the car over and looked at me expectantly. I panicked.

I took a deep breath, looked up, and let the tears start flowing. Drama queen mode: activated.

“Actually… I—I don’t have parents anymore,” I fake sobbed. “They’re gone. I’m literally all alone. My family got into so much debt they basically gave me away as payment and… this is the first time I’ve escaped.” Sniffle sniffle.

His expression shifted. He looked away, and I knew I had him.

“They took our house, too. The bank did. I have nowhere to go,” I wailed, making it as dramatic as possible. I saw him hand me a handkerchief.

I blew my nose right into it. Gross, I know, but I was committed to the role.

He visibly cringed when I tried to hand it back. “You can keep that.”

I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. Poor guy looked like he regretted every life choice leading to this moment.

“Thanks,” I said sweetly. “Do you maybe know anywhere I could stay tonight? Just for a night or two?”

He sighed again, then glanced at me briefly before answering.

“You don’t have any relatives? Friends?”

“They all live far away,” I said with a sad little sniffle. “And honestly… they probably wouldn’t even let me in. Nobody even tried to look for me when I disappeared.”

God, the lies were stacking up. I was gonna need therapy after this.

“Alright,” he muttered. “Do you want a job? Room and board are included.”

Wait, what?

I didn’t answer right away. I had enough money on me to survive for now. Rent a room, eat cheap, figure things out. But long-term? I needed work.

I wasn’t going back home, that was for sure. I already knew if I stepped foot in that house again, my dad would lock me up and drag me down the aisle kicking and screaming.

“If I say yes, would I be working for you?” I asked cautiously. I needed to know what I was signing up for. If he was the boss, I was out.

“No. I’ll refer you to a friend of mine. He’s looking for a maid.”

Oh. Okay. Not the dream job, but it’s not like I had options.

But like… do maids need to know how to cook? ‘Cause I can’t even fry an egg without almost burning the house down.