Married to my father’s enemy.

“ I’m not marrying him.”

The words escaped my mouth before I could stop them.

For the moment, nobody at the dining table moved.

My father, Richard Sterling, slowly lowered his wineglass.

Across from him, my stepmother, Victoria, froze with her fork halfway to her mouth.

But my half-sister, Evelyn, smiled.

She tried to hide it.

She failed.

My eyes moved between them.

“You’re serious?” I asked.

My father’s expression remained calm.

“Completely.”

“You decided I’m getting married without even asking me?”

“You don’t need to be asked.”

My chest tightened.

“Who is he?”

“Alexander Blackwood.”

The name alone made me stiffen.

Everyone knew the Blackwoods.

They owned one of the most powerful business empires in the city. For years, my father and William Blackwood had been fighting for the same markets, the same contracts, the same influence.

They were competitors.

Sometimes enemies.

And now my father wanted me to marry their son.

I let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

“You want me to marry a Blackwood?”

“Yes.”

“You've lost your mind.”

“Watch yourself, Arabella.”

I pushed my chair back.

“You can’t just decide that I’m going to marry a man I’ve barely spoken to.”

“You've met Alexander several times.”

“Meeting someone at a business event doesn’t mean I know him.”

“You’ll know him after you marry him.”

I stared at my father.

That was how easily he said it.

As though marriage were another business contract.

As though I were another company he could merge with someone else.

Victoria finally placed her fork down.

“Arabella sit down.”

I turned toward her.

“I don’t want to sit down.”

Her expression remained gentle.

“You’re upset.”

“Of course I’m upset.”

She laughed.

“My future?”.

“Yes.”

“My future was just decided over dinner.”

Evelyn leaned back in her chair.

“You should be grateful.”

I looked at her.

“For what?”

“For getting Alexander Blackwood.”

She smiled.

“Do you have any idea how many women would want to be in your position?”

I stared at her.

“Then you should be the one marrying him.”

Her smile disappeared.

Victoria’s eyes sharpened.

“Arabella.”

“What?”

“You’re being childish.”

“No.”

I looked at my father.

“I’m being honest.”

He placed his glass down.

“This marriage will strengthen both families.”

There it was.

The truth.

Not love.

Not my happiness.

Business.

“So that’s what this is?” I asked. “Another deal?”

“It’s an alliance.”

“Call it whatever you want.”

My voice trembled.

“But I’m not a company.”

My father’s face hardened.

“You’re Sterling.”

“I know.”

“You have responsibilities.”

“I know.”

The words came out louder than I intended.

Silence returned.

I took a breath.

“I’ve spent my entire life presenting this family.”

My eyes burned.

“I attended your events. I smiled for your cameras. I stood beside you whenever you needed the perfect daughter.”

I looked at Victoria.

“I stayed quiet when I was treated like an outsider in my own home.”

Then I looked at Evelyn.

“And I ignored the fact that my own sister has spent years trying to make me feel like I don’t belong here.”

Evelyn’s face reddened.

My father remained silent.

I swallowed.

“But marriage?”

I shook my head.

“That’s where I draw the line.”

My father stood.

“You’re marrying Alexander.”

“No.”

“You are.”

“No.”

His eyes turned cold.

“Then perhaps you should consider what you’re willing to lose.”

I froze.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that if you refuse, you will no longer have access to the privileges you currently enjoy.”

My heart sank.

“My allowance?”

“Yes.”

“My apartment?”

“Yes.”

You’d take that away from me?”

“If necessary.”

I stared at him.

“And my position in the company?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

That was enough.

I laughed bitterly.

“So this is a threat.”

“It’s a choice.”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“It’s an ultimatum.”

My father walked around the table.

“You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

“Because you’re asking me to marry a stranger.”

“He is a respectable man.”

“I don’t care.”

“He is wealthy.”

“I don’t care.”

“He comes from a powerful family.”

“I don’t care!”

My voice cracked.

“I want to marry someone because I love him.”

My father looked at me as though I’d said something ridiculous.

“Love isn’t what keeps a family standing.”

I stared at him.

Maybe that was the saddest thing he had ever said to me.

Because I suddenly understood something.

He didn’t care who I loved.

He cared what I could do for him.

I looked towards Victoria.

She was watching me quietly.

For some reason, I remembered my mother.

She had been different.

She used to tell me that money could give a person comfort, but it could never give them freedom if someone else controlled it.

I was too young to understand what she meant back then.

Now I did.

My father had died when I was six.

A car accident.

At least, that was what everyone had always told me.

I remembered almost nothing had always told me.

Only rain.

A hospital corridor.

My father’s hand around mine.

And Victoria standing beside him.

After that, my life changed.

My father became colder.

Victoria became the woman of the house.

And I became the daughter who was expected to understand everything and ask nothing.

I looked at my father again.

“When is the wedding?”

His expression relaxed slightly.

“In three weeks.”

I almost laughed.

“You’ve planned everything.”

“Yes.”

“Does Alexander even know?”

“He has agreed.”

That surprised me.

“He agreed?”

“Yes.”

I looked away.

So he was just like everyone else.

Another person willing to enter a marriage because it benefited his family.

Fine.

If they wanted a business marriage, they would get one.

But they weren’t getting my obedience.

I picked up my handbag.

“I’ll marry him.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened.

Victoria smiled.

My father nodded in satisfaction.

But I looked directly at him.

“Don’t mistake my decision for surrender.”

His expression darkened.

“I’ll marry Alexander Blackwood because you've left me no other choice.”

I walked away before he could answer.

I reached my bedroom and shut the door behind me.

Only then did I allow myself to breathe.

My hands were shaking.

I hated that they had managed to corner me.

I hated even more that I didn’t know how to fight back.

I walked to my window.

The city glittered below me.

Everything looked beautiful from this height.

Perfect.

Untouchable.

It was strange how beautiful things could hide ugly truths.

My phone buzzed.

I looked down.

An unknown number.

Don’t marry Alexander Blackwood.

My brows pulled together.

Another message appeared.

You don’t know what your father is planning.

I stared at the screen.

My heart began beating faster.

I typed: Who are you?

No answer.

I called the number.

Unavailable.

A few seconds later, another message arrived.

If you want to know the truth, start with the night your mother died.

My breath caught.

I stared at those words.

My mother.

Why would someone bring her into this?

I typed again.

What do you know about my mother?

No response.

I waited.

Nothing.

I looked toward the framed photograph on my bedside.

My mother smiled back at me from behind the glass.

Amelia.

The woman whose face I could remember more clearly than her voice.

The woman I had spent eighteen years believing I lost in an accident.

I picked up the photograph.

“Why would anyone lie about you?”

My voice was barely a whisper.

Then I stopped.

Because I suddenly remembered something.

Something tiny.

Something I hadn’t thought about in years.

The night my mother died, I had heard her arguing with someone.

I couldn’t remember the voice.

But I remembered one thing.

She had been crying.

I closed my eyes.

A sharp knock sounded at my bedroom door.

I quickly put the phone and the photograph down.

“Who is it?”

“Victoria.”

I didn’t answer.

The door opened anyway.

She stepped inside.

“You should get some sleep.”

I watched her carefully.

“Why?”

“You have a big day tomorrow.”

I frowned.

“What happens tomorrow?”

“The Blackwoods are coming.”

My heart skipped.

“Alexander?”

She nodded.

“Your father wants the families to have dinner together.”

So soon.

I looked away.

Victoria walked closer.

“You’ll like him.”

“I doubt it.”

“You haven’t given him a chance.”

“You haven’t given him a chance.”

“Neither has given me a chance.”

She smiled.

Then she turned toward the door.

“Good night, Arabella.”

“Victoria.”

She stopped.

“Why did you really want this marriage?”

For the first time, her expression changed.

Only for a second.

Then the smile returned.

“Because I want what’s best for you.”

She left.

I stared at the closed door.

I didn’t believe her.

Not completely.

But I had no idea why.

Downstairs, Victoria entered the study.

Richard was waiting.

He closed the door.

“She agreed.”

Richard poured himself a drink.

“Good.”

Victoria’s expression remained serious.

“She asked questions.”

“What questions?”

“About the marriage.”

Richard took a sip.

“That’s expected.”

“No.”

Victoria shook her head.

“She asked why we’re doing this.”

Richard looked at her.

“And?”

“She mentioned her mother.”

The glass stopped halfway to his lips.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Richard placed the glass down.

“She doesn’t remember anything”

“You’re sure?”

“She was six.”

Victoria looked uneasy.

“Children remember more than we think.”

Richard’s eyes hardened.

“Then make sure she doesn’t start digging.”

Victoria swallowed.

“And if she does?”

Richard stepped closer.

“She won’t.”

His voice dropped.

“Not if we keep the past buried.”

Neither of them noticed the shadow that passed beneath the study door.

Neither knew that Arabella had returned downstairs.

She had forgotten her tablet in the dining room.

And now she stood outside the study.

She couldn’t hear everything.

Only a few words.

Her mother.

She was six.

Keep the past buried.

Arabella’s hand slowly covered her mouth.

Her heart began to race.

What were they talking about?

What did they mean by the past?

And why did her mother’s name make them afraid?

She stepped away from the door.

For eighteen years, she had believed her mother’s death was an accident.

Tonight, for the first time, she wondered if she had been wrong.

She looked toward the closed study door.

A cold realization settled over her.

Tomorrow, she was going to meet the man she had been forced to marry.

But tonight, she had discovered something far more frightening.

Her father’s secrets might be more dangerous than her marriage.