003: Over My Dead Body

EDEN

There are moments in life when your soul just... leaves your body. Mine is currently floating above the hospital bed, waving a little white flag.

"Dad," I say slowly. "You're saying—and please, for my own sanity, say I'm hallucinating—that I'm supposed to marry Hayden Wolfe."

He nods, utterly calm.

"Okay," I breathe, pressing my fingers to my temples. "Let me just process this. You're in the hospital, you've scared ten years off my life, and now you're trying to sell me off to my high school nemesis?"

"Don't exaggerate," Mom says from the corner, dabbing her eyes. "It's not selling. This is... mutually beneficial."

I turn to look at her. "Mutually beneficial for whom? Because I can't see a single benefit unless you count lifelong trauma as one."

Dad sighs, looking every bit the tragic hero of his own telenovela. "Our company's in trouble, Eden."

That shuts me up.

“What do you mean...trouble?"

He looks at Mom, and she hesitates before whispering, "We're... in debt. A lot of it. The company's barely staying afloat."

My heart drops. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Dad had managed to start a smaller company after the bankruptcy years ago. To think that he was losing everything again was heartbreaking.

“I didn't want to worry you," Dad says softly. "But Mrs. Wolfe, Hayden's grandmother, offered to help. She'll cover the debts if you and Hayden... settle."

“Settle?" I repeat faintly. "As in...marry? Not, like, settle a lawsuit?"

Dad flashes me a weak smile. "She believes it would strengthen both families. You'll be well cared for."

Oh.

My.

God.

They've gone full Bridgerton.

"Dad," I say, my voice shaking with disbelief. "You're trying to fix our financial crisis with a marriage alliance?! What year is it, 1850?"

My mother murmurs, "It's not as bad as you think."

“Oh really?" I snap. "Because from where I'm standing, it's very bad."

I stand up so fast my chair scrapes the floor. "I need air."

“Eden, please don't make a scene—" Mom starts, but I'm already halfway out the door.

By the time I'm outside, my pulse is doing a drum solo in my ears. They don’t know anything. They don’t—

I can't breathe.

How can I marry the jerk I hate with every fibre of my being? The one who ruined my life? The reason I’ve depended on sleeping pills and alcohol for the longest time?

My phone's in my hand before I know it. I scroll through my contacts until I find the one name I never thought I'd tap again ever since that dreadful prom night when I got deceived.

‘Wolfie'

I take a deep breath and hit "Call."

My heart thumps harder, and I start to pace. The second I hear the click and his voice comes on the line, I nearly combust.

“Well, if it isn't my favorite squirrel," he drawls. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

I grit my teeth, anger stirring in my blood. "You're a psychopath."

He chuckles. "Not denying that. But you'll have to be more specific."

I inhale through my nose, because if I don't, I might start screaming. "Did you tell your grandmother we were getting married?!"

There's a moment of silence, then a lazy, "Ah. So you heard."

“‘So you heard?!'" I bark. "That's all you have to say?!"

“What did you expect?"

“She's offering to pay off my family's debts, Hayden! You can't just—just negotiate my life like it's a corporate merger!"

“You're overreacting," he drawls.

The nerve of this—

“Overreacting?" My voice rises an octave. "You've basically proposed to me without my consent!"

“Technically," he says, and I can hear the smirk in his tone, "I proposed to my grandmother. You were just part of the deal."

“I'm going to kill you."

“Not before the wedding, I hope."

I hang up instantly before my brain explodes.

Wedding? Over my dead body.

……...

An hour later, I'm standing in front of Wolfe Enterprises, glaring up at the mirrored skyscraper. I don't even remember driving here. My body just went on autopilot, powered by pure rage.

Inside, the receptionist barely looks up when I storm in.

“Hi," I say, giving her a tight smile. "Eden Clarke for Hayden Wolfe. He's expecting me."

She blinks, checks her screen, and then smiles. "Yes, Miss Clarke. He said to send you right up."

Of course he did. The smug bastard.

I'm ushered into an elevator, and the moment I catch sight of my reflection in the mirrored wall, I practically recoil. My hair's messy, my eyes wild with something akin to bloodthirst.

Perfect.

The doors open to his office floor, and my heels click against the marble as I stride to the end of the hall. His name is on the glass door in gold lettering.

I don't knock. I shove it open.

And there he is.

Hayden Wolfe.

His white shirt outlines his broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled to his elbows to reveal his veiny arms. His hair's parted down the middle, long enough to slightly dip over his eyes and curl against his collar.

A faint smirk curves his lips as his electric green gaze slowly sweeps over me.

I am suddenly extremely self-conscious.

“Eden," he drawls, towering above me as he rises. "You came."

Damnit, his extremely long legs are distracting me.

“Don't flatter yourself," I snap. "I came to tell you that this insane marriage idea is not happening."

He moves closer, slowly, his menacing aura pressing around me from all sides.

“Are you sure about that?" He asks, the sound of his deep voice making my skin tingle.

I glare up at him, refusing to back down. "Positive."

He gives me an infuriating, dangerous smile.

“We'll see, squirrel."

And somehow, against my better judgment, my pulse skips.

Damn it.

“Don't call me that," I snap. "You don’t get to nickname me while plotting my abduction into marriage.”

“Funny," he says, cocking his head. "That's not how your father described it."

I freeze. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He looks at me for a long moment, like he's weighing how much truth I can handle.

Then he sighs. "You should sit down."

“I'm fine standing."

“Suit yourself." He picks up a sleek folder from his desk and slides it towards me.

I glance at it. My father's signature stares back at me.

My stomach plummets. "What... is this?"

“The contract," Hayden says. "Your father signed it last night."

For a second, I can't hear anything but my heartbeat.

“He... what?"

“He agreed to the arrangement. The Wolfe Foundation clears your family's debt in exchange for your engagement. Officially."

“Officially?" I echo, my voice trembling. "As in... legally binding?"

He nods. "Our PR teams coordinated with both families this morning."

My throat goes dry. "You're lying."

“Am I?"

I snatch the folder, flipping through pages that blur together with legal terms, joint venture clauses, marriage conditions...until I see it. The final line:

‘Engagement to be announced publicly on October 28.'

Tomorrow.

I look up at him, horrified. "You did not."

“Actually," he says, his jaw tightening, "your father did. I just made it official."