Taming My Arrogant Husband

Scarlett’s Point of View

“This is for your mother's medical bills.” My dad shoved the money in my hands and snorted bitterly, “but hear me—don't you dare let anyone know what we have planned. Do you understand? If they find out, your mom will suffer far worse than death!”

“Yes, dad…”

He glared at me with disdain, his head shaking vehemently. “You're a fool to keep believing your mom will get better. If I were you, I would just give up—there's no hope because her disease is incurable. You're only setting yourself up for pain.”

"Honey, you can try to influence your illegitimate daughter all you want, but she will never heed your words." My stepmom's voice dripped with condescension. "However, I won't hesitate to use her to our advantage in keeping my daughter from marrying into that arrogant family!"

That’s right.

My dad had arranged me into a marriage with a cold-hearted billionaire, hoping to gain some financial return. It was supposed to be Nadine – my half-sister – but she wasn't willing to sacrifice her freedom.

If I didn't go through with the arrangement, my mother's allowance for medical care would be cut off. After all, my mom had once been the mistress of this wicked man and I was merely the product of their illicit affair.

I gripped the money tightly in my fist, ready to put a stop to their snickering. But before I could do anything, the door creaked open and in stormed my half-sister with her arms full of colorful shopping bags.

With a brisk snap of her bubblegum, she scanned me from my untidy hair down to my worn-out shoes.

A sly grin crept across her face as she let out an airy laugh. “Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence,” she taunted. “The pathetic beggar shows up again to ask for money just before her wedding day. Is your mother still ailing and in need of cash?”

I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. ‘Calm down, Scarlett. Don’t let her words get into you.’

"Control your tongue, my girl," dad scolded Nadine sternly, yet his words still sounded gentle and melodious - a voice I had never heard directed at me.

"Don't forget that it was your sister who saved you from this arranged marriage to the Scoville family. With Storm Scoville's notorious reputation, you'll be nothing but a puppet in his hands. I'm sure you can't handle him."

'And you think I can?' I wondered, aghast.

How could my father abandon me like this, trading me away for his other child? I was his own flesh and blood too- how could he not remember that!

Storm Scoville is the billionaire I will marry. Words and rumors tell he was a cruel, unyielding, and calculating individual; one who wouldn't think twice about displaying his fury, no matter to whom you may be related, be it family, friends, or even his own partner...

That was the crux of why Gladdy, my stepmother, chose to send me off as the bride instead of Nadine.

They had contrived a way to make it appear that I was the legitimate daughter, and she was the illegitimate one. They made it looked like he was a good father, taking care both of his daughters.

"Whatever, I'm not thanking her for it! This is a win-win situation for everyone. She gets to sleep in a soft bed, eating good meals and bathing in an expensive bathroom," Nadine snapped, rolling her eyes and folding her arms across her chest.

"Your daughter is right, honey! She will finally experience a good life," Gladdy added.

Nadine moved closer towards me and whispered menacingly into my ear, “Besides, rumor has it that Storm is a real virtuoso when it comes to sex. Who knows how easily he could get you pregnant? If you conceive his babies, you could kiss your dumpster life goodbye and just take care of his children.”

An inferno of fury consumed me as I shoved her back. I clenched my jaw and barked with icy venom, "Nadine, even if I need the money for my mom's medical bills, I will not stoop to your level. Be grateful that I save your ass."

Her eyes widened as my stepmother suddenly shrieked, "What the hell did you say, bitch?!"

Nadine’s expression morphed to one of fury, and my father met it with a piercing glare.

His voice now contained an air of authority as he spat out, “So you are implying that this marriage only benefits us?! Don’t you understand how much you stand to gain from it?”

"What I earned is but a small fraction of what I shall reap, dad," I retorted. “Unfortunately, I cannot stay for one second longer and make calculations, so I must take my leave now.”

"Come back here, Scarlett! How dare you!" my dad screamed.

I walked away from their villa, a weight in my chest. All I could think of was what tomorrow would bring - a life far removed from the one I'd known, different privileges and expectations. I feared what lay ahead, but all I could do was hope that I would survive until my mother recovered.

The following morning, I awoke early to go to my father's villa for the wedding preparation. As I arrived, I was relieved to find that everyone else had already gone ahead of me. Only the makeup artist, designer, and hair stylist were left.

"Are you ready?" the makeup artist asked when she started putting makeup on me.

I fondled my fingers and forced a faint smile. "I'm nervous."

She placed something cool against my eyelids and, reluctantly, I allowed them to shut.

I heard her murmur, "Why? Storm is the ideal husband any woman could dream of. It's a blessing you get to marry him."

The common folk were blind to the harsh reality hidden beneath the façade of that man. Only those hailing from the upper echelons of society could see beyond the mask he wore, revealing his true nature.

Time seemingly flew by as I spent more than three hours preparing.

After what felt like an eternity of meandering through a jumble of emotions, I barely noticed that we had arrived at the church.

My heart raced and my palms became moist, and I could feel the fluttering of hundreds of butterflies in my stomach.

The anxieties had taken hold.

As I stepped out of the car, my legs felt like jelly.

I stood in front of the church's door, two men positioned to open it.

My feet wanted to take me away from that place but I was rooted to the spot, my heart pounding like a drum.

There was no escape now; the church door had opened wide and all I could see were flashes of cameras, rapturous applause from the guests, and at the end of the aisle, stood the man.

He was waiting for me.