Chapter 5

The next morning came with a pounding headache. My temples throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the ache clawing at my chest. The whiskey had faded, but the memories hadn’t. They burned, raw and unrelenting.

I needed answers.

The contract trembled in my hands, though I tried to hold it steady. Every word inked on that page felt like venom seeping into my veins. I stood in the doorway of the living room, staring at my parents as if they were strangers.

“You arranged a marriage behind my back?” My voice was sharper than I expected, slicing through the quiet. “With Travis Walker?”

My father didn’t flinch. He sat there in his pressed shirt, coffee cup in hand, as calm as if I had asked him about the weather.

“You’re lucky he’s even willing,” he said.

The words landed like a slap. I glanced at my mother, hoping she’d defend me, but she only shifted uncomfortably, her lips pressed into a tight line.

“I’m not doing it,” I snapped. “I don’t even know him. You had no right—”

“I had every right,” my father cut in, standing slowly, his presence filling the room. His tone was iron, unyielding. “This isn’t about rights, Camilla. This is about survival. If you hadn’t been so damn foolish, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

My breath hitched. My own father—blaming me.

“You’re blaming me?”

His gaze hardened. “I warned you about George. From the very beginning, I told you. But you insisted. You paraded your heartbreak in front of the world, and you let the media feed on it. Our name became a joke, our investors walked away, and now you expect sympathy?”

Tears pricked my eyes. His words cut deep, sharper than any headline I had endured.

“I’m fixing it,” he continued, his voice cracking for just a moment, almost too quiet to notice. “That’s what I do. I clean up your mess.”

His voice caught, and for a second he looked less like my father and more like a tired man who’d run out of fight.Then he forced it down, like he always did.

“You think I want this?” His hand tightened around the edge of the table. “You think I don’t hate what this family has become?”

Finally, my mother spoke, her voice low. “We didn’t want it to come to this, sweetheart. But your father is right. We don’t have a choice.”

I swallowed hard, anger swirling with grief. “You could have told me. You could have asked.”

My father’s eyes narrowed. “Would you have said yes?”

The silence between us was my only answer.

“Exactly,” he said, brushing past me like the conversation was over. “You’re marrying him. That’s final. I won’t let your pride bury this family any deeper. I’ve given you enough time to cry over that boy.”

My voice cracked. “And if I refuse?”

He didn’t look back. His words were ice.

“Then don’t bother calling yourself my daughter.”

“Dad?!” My voice broke, but he was already gone. I turned to my mother, desperation clawing at me. “Mom, you have to do something. I haven’t even recovered from George. How can you let this happen?”

I caught the flicker in his eyes but it vanished, replaced by the calm, unshakable mask she always wore. She wrapped her arms around me, patting my back while I sobbed against her shoulder.

“My baby,” she whispered, “your father’s mind is made up. It’s for the best.”

I pulled away, my chest heaving. “This isn’t right, Mom. There has to be another way.”

“There’s no other way, Camilla.” Her tone was soft, but her words cut sharper than my father’s. “Your father is trying to save your future.”

“No, he’s saving himself. His company. He doesn’t care about me.” My voice trembled with rage. “It’s not my fault the wedding was called off. Why am I the one taking the blame?”

Her lips tightened. For the first time, her voice turned sharp.

“Because you are the weak one. And the weak always pay the price. That is why marrying Travis Walker is the best decision for you. For all of us. Listen to your father, Camilla.”

Her words knocked the breath out of me. My mouth opened, but no sound came. When I finally found my voice, it shook.

“It’s my life. You should let me choose. I don’t love this man—I don’t even know him.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And what happened to the man you loved?”

I froze. The mention of George was enough to reopen every wound. She saw the pain, softened, and her voice dropped.

“Listen to me. My marriage to your father was arranged too. Look at us now. Love will come. It always does.”

She took my hands, gripping them tightly, as if she could force her conviction into me.

“We love you. If there was another way, we would have taken it. But there isn’t.”

Then she let go. She hugged me briefly before turning away, her footsteps retreating down the hall.

I stood frozen in the silence, my tears drying on my cheeks. Something inside me shifted. The ache in my chest hardened into resolve.

If they were forcing me into this, then I would face Travis Walker on my own terms.

---

The café was too bright, too cheerful for the meeting ahead. Sunlight streamed through tall window. People around me laughed, worked, and lived as though the world wasn’t caving in.

I sat in the corner booth, arms crossed, my stomach knotted.

11:58.

Two minutes early. Just enough time to run. But I stayed, my father’s voice echoing in my head.

You’re marrying him. That’s final.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the tears at bay.

A shadow fell across the table. I looked up. A man in dark pants and a blue T-shirt stood there, casual but confident.

“Camilla Baker?” His voice was calm, professional.

I nodded. “You’re late, Billy Scott.”

“Traffic,” he said with a small shrug, shaking my hand.

I leaned forward, trying to steady my voice. “So, what do you have for me?”

He hesitated. “Whoever sent that message doesn’t want to be traced. It’ll take time.”

Of course. Always time. “That’s why I came to you. Don’t tell me you can’t do it.”

“I didn’t say that. I just need more time.”

“Billy, this is my life. If you need more money, I’ll pay. Just make it fast.”

His expression shifted. “The only thing I managed was a location. An old hotel. But when I pulled the CCTV… everything from that day was gone. Wiped clean.”

My shoulders slumped. Back to nothing.

“No nearby cameras? Street footage? Anything?” My voice was thin, desperate.

“There were some,” he admitted, “but those were erased too. Someone doesn’t want to be found.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Baker.”

I forced a smile, stood, and left the café with disappointment heavy in my chest.

On the walk home, Olivia’s words echoed in my head. Maybe it’s for the best.

If I could find out who that woman was, the media storm would die, the investors would return, and I wouldn’t have to marry a stranger. But now… now I was trapped.

Maybe it really was for the best.

At home, I collapsed onto my bed, staring at the ceiling as my breath came in shallow bursts. The contract sat on my desk, waiting like a curse. I hadn’t even read it.

Dragging myself up, I reached for the file. My eyes landed on the name again.

Travis Walker.

My hands shook as I pulled open my laptop. Within seconds, his profile appeared on the screen.

My eyes widened.

No. It couldn’t be.

Of all people—

The man my father wanted me to marry was none other than the arrogant, coffee-spilling jerk I had cursed at in the airport.