An Arranged Marriage

Imogen

My eyes widened as I scrolled through the latest gossip online. Out of all the headlines flooding my screen, one instantly caught my attention — and shattered my heart at the same time.

Billionaire CEO Malcolm Grayson was apparently married.

My crush was married.

I stared at the screen for a few more seconds, feeling oddly disappointed. It was ridiculous, really. A man like Malcolm Grayson would never notice someone like me anyway, but somehow the news still stung.

“Imogen!”

My father’s loud voice suddenly echoed through the house, making me jump in shock. I quickly tossed my phone onto the bed and hurried toward the door.

The moment I opened it, I found him standing there with a dark expression.

“Come downstairs. Now.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away.

I swallowed nervously before following behind him. Ever since his company started struggling financially, his temper had become even worse than usual. The fact that he personally came to my room meant whatever this was, it wasn’t good.

When I entered the living room, my stepmother Silvia and stepsister Lyra were already seated comfortably.

Just great.

Another family meeting where I would somehow end up being the problem.

Father sat down and motioned for me to do the same.

“Sit.”

I obeyed quietly, trying to ignore the mocking look Lyra threw my way while Silvia remained focused on her phone.

Father cleared his throat heavily.

“As you all already know, the company has not been doing well lately,” he began. “And I currently owe a very large debt.”

I wasn’t surprised.

With the way he constantly spoiled Silvia and Lyra without limits, it was only a matter of time before his business started collapsing.

“One of my creditors,” he continued carefully, “has offered to clear every debt I owe…”

He paused briefly before finishing,

“…if one of my daughters agrees to marry his autistic son.”

My entire body went still.

The amused chuckle that escaped Lyra’s lips immediately told me which daughter he was talking about.

“W-what?” I stammered in disbelief.

“It’s exactly what you heard,” Father replied coldly.

“And you refused… right?” I asked hopefully, though deep down I already knew the answer.

Instead of speaking, he laughed.

My stomach dropped.

Silvia finally lowered her phone and looked directly at me.

“To save everyone’s time,” she said smoothly, “you’ll be marrying their son.”

I immediately rose to my feet.

“No.”

The word came out before I could stop it.

“You don’t have a choice,” Lyra said lazily while inspecting her nails.

Father slowly stood up, rage flickering in his eyes.

“Did you just refuse me?”

“I’m not marrying someone I don’t love,” I blurted out emotionally.

In seconds, he crossed the distance between us and grabbed my arms painfully tight.

“And you think I married your useless mother for love?” he snapped.

The cruel statement made Silvia and Lyra burst into laughter.

My chest tightened painfully.

“Why do you hate me so much?” I whispered, tears gathering in my eyes.

Father scoffed coldly.

“Oh, now I hate you? When you’ve been living under my roof all these years, eating from my hard work, you never thought about that?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

More than once, I had begged to move out and build my own life, but he always refused, insisting daughters in this family were meant to leave through marriage only.

And now he was literally trying to sell me off, again.

“I’m not some business deal you can trade for money,” I said shakily. “You have another daughter, don’t you?”

Silvia instantly stood up.

“What did you just say?” she snapped furiously. “Say it again and I’ll cut off your tongue.”

Father released my arms slowly and stepped back.

“Then you will no longer be my daughter,” he said emotionlessly. “You’ll leave this house with absolutely nothing. No money. No belongings. Then we’ll see how long you survive on your own.”

I clenched my fists tightly.

Even then, I refused to back down.

I couldn’t marry a stranger simply because my father wanted to clear his debt.

“If I leave,” I said firmly, “you’ll have no choice but to send Lyra instead.”

For the first time, uncertainty crossed Lyra’s face.

“Then I’ll leave,” I continued stubbornly.

I turned toward the stairs, but Father’s voice stopped me instantly.

“If you walk out of this house,” he said calmly, “none of your mother’s belongings will go with you.”

My steps froze.

“I’ll give every single one of them to Lyra instead.”

The air left my lungs.

Those keepsakes were all I had left of my mother.

Slowly, I turned back around.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

His expression remained cold and unreadable.

“You leave with nothing. Not even your mother’s memories. So decide carefully, Imogen. Will you obey me, or lose everything connected to her?”

My eyes burned with tears.

“Do you even hear yourself?” I asked bitterly. “You’re blackmailing me with my dead mother’s belongings because I won’t marry a stranger?”

“You brought this upon yourself,” Silvia interrupted smoothly. “If you were a good daughter, none of this would be happening.”

Anger surged through me immediately.

“This has nothing to do with you,” I snapped. “This is between me and him.”

“How dare you speak to your mother like that?” Father roared furiously.

“She is not my mother!”

The words exploded out of me before I could stop them.

Years of frustration finally spilled over.

Ever since my mother died, Silvia and Lyra had made sure I understood I was unwanted in my own home. And Father had watched it all happen without ever once defending me.

Now he expected me to call Silvia my mother?

Father let out a frustrated breath before speaking again.

“My decision is final. If you want to keep your mother’s belongings, you will marry that boy.”

I refused to let them see me break down further.

Without another word, I turned and stormed upstairs while Lyra’s mocking laughter echoed behind me.

Three Hours Earlier

Malcolm

The loud ringing of my phone dragged me out of sleep.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered irritably as I reached for the device beside me.

Who the hell was calling this early?

Squinting at the bedside clock, I saw it was barely past five in the morning.

Sebastian.

My personal assistant.

Already annoyed, I answered the call while rubbing my face tiredly.

“This better be important.”

Unlike me, Sebastian sounded completely awake — and nervous.

“Sir…” he said quickly, “there’s currently a report online claiming that you’re married… and there’s a marriage certificate attached as proof.”

The moment those words left his mouth, every trace of sleep vanished instantly.