Chapter 2

Mrs. Tate burst into Amelia's room, determined to ensure she was ready for her wedding. But as she flung open the curtains and called out her name, she realized she wasn't there. Panic set in as she rushed from room to room.

"Amelia !!!"

She yelled her name and searched for any sign of her, but she was nowhere to be found.

Her mind raced with all the terrible things that could have happened to her. "Has she run away? How do we bear the consequences of his wrath?" She thought out loud.

She ran down the stairs, shouting for the servants to help her search for Amelia. "I can't lose her, not on her wedding day, not when she's about to marry the most powerful man in town." She mouthed.

As she searched every room, nook, and cranny, she was still nowhere to be found.

"Where could she have gone?" She could feel her heart breaking as reality set in. 

"I must find her; I must bring her back." I can't let her make the biggest mistake of her life. I just hope it's not too late." 

Mrs. Tate paced back and forth, her face etched with worry, just as Amelia's dad walked in. 

"Where is Amelia?" He inquired, his voice firm.

"I don't know," she replied, her voice shaking. "I've searched the entire house, but she's nowhere to be found."

He raised his voice in anger. "My daughter's wedding is just a few hours away, yet she's still nowhere to be found?"

He was about to question Amelia's mom further when the front door creaked open.

Amelia entered, looking drained and exhausted, her hair damp from the rain. She carried a bag in each hand as she looked up.

"Amelia, where have you been?" Her dad demanded, his voice harsh.

"I needed to get away, to clear my head," she replied, with her voice barely above a whisper.

"What do you mean you needed to get away?" her mother cried out. "Your wedding is today, and you can't just disappear like that."

"I just needed some time to think," she said softly. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble." She exclaimed.

Amelia walked up the stairs, each step heavy with exhaustion and sadness. Her father followed closely behind, his expression mixed with anger and concern. He turned to Mrs. Tate when they reached the top of the stairs.

"Go get her ready for the wedding," he said in a low voice. "We can't let anything ruin this." "Marriage with the billionaire is the best thing that could happen to all of us."

Amelia's mother nodded, her face etched with worry, before turning to go to Amelia's room. Amelia followed her, head down, as she made her way to the room she had called home for so many years.

She was determined to go ahead with the wedding after being abandoned at the train station by her boyfriend. She thought bitterly that even if she didn't love him, it wasn't bad being a billionaire's wife.

Amelia stood in front of the mirror, her eyes red and puffy from the tears she had cried all night. She washed her face, trying to compose herself, but the hurt was still raw and fresh.

As she was getting dressed, Mrs. Tate knocked on the door and entered with a beautiful wedding dress in her arms. "Your husband-to-be was kind enough to get this for you," she said with a smile.

Amelia took the dress from her mother, feeling a wave of anger wash over her. This was her prison, her sentence for a life she never wanted. She dressed quickly, the anger growing inside her with each passing moment.

Amelia's thoughts were a jumbled mess as they left the house and headed to the wedding. She still kept turning to her phone, hoping against hope that Henry would call and he would rescue her from this misery. But the phone remained silent, and the reality of her situation settled heavily on her shoulders.

She was marrying a ruthless billionaire—a man she only knew about from rumors. As she took her place at the altar, she knew there was no going back. She was trapped in this life and marriage, and there was nothing she could do to escape it.

Amelia stood at the altar, her eyes fixed on the door, still hoping her boyfriend would burst in and sweep her away. But as the minutes ticked by and the door remained firmly closed, she knew he would never show up.

The priest cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to the present. 

"Do you, Amelia, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" He asked, but Amelia's mind was blank.

She felt her father's hand on her arm, a silent plea for her to say yes. She looked over at her mother, who gave her a small, sad smile as she remembered her mother's words, "We make sacrifices for the people we love." 

She loved her family, even though she was forced to do this.

With a deep breath, Amelia turned to face Andrew Reynolds. He looked at her expectantly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. And at that moment, she knew that this was her new life. There was no going back, no escape.

She took a deep breath and said, "Yes," her voice barely above a whisper. A sigh of relief swept through the crowd, and her husband grabbed her, pulling her close for a kiss.

Amelia closed her eyes, trying to ignore the emptiness that still lingered in her heart. This was her new life, her new reality. And she would have to find a way to make it work, to find happiness in a life she never wanted.

She settled into the car with Andrew on their way to his mansion. The car was filled with awkward silence as he lit up a cigarette.

Amelia only fidgeted nervously in her seat.

Andrew suddenly turned to her, offering her a pack of cigarettes. "Do you smoke?" he asked, his voice sharp.

Amelia shook her head quickly. "No, I don't smoke," she stammered.

His expression hardened, and he took the pack away, saying, "Fine, I don't like women who smoke anyway."

Amelia looked at him in disgust, her anger starting to boil. "Why did you offer me one, then?" she asked, her voice tight.

Andrew took a drag of his cigarette, not looking at her as he blew the smoke out the window, offering no explanation.

Amelia could only stare at his side profile, fuming uncontrollably, not that her husband cared though. 

"Why did you marry me if you intend to treat me like air?" Amelia asked out of nowhere.