Chapter Four

Mila’s POV

I woke up with a headache and a stranger’s smell on my skin.

The first thing I felt was regret, heavy, sharp, and unforgiving.

My head throbbed, my mouth tasted wrong, my body felt warm in places I didn’t want to think about.

I opened my eyes, and the bed was empty. Then panic hit fast. Too fast. My heart started racing before my mind could catch up.

I sat up. The sheet slipped down my shoulders. My skin felt uncovered. Marked. Not hurt. Just aware.

 I pressed my palm to my chest.

Breathe, just breathe.

 I searched the bed, the room, the silence.

 He was gone. Of course he was.

 A laugh left me. Dry. Almost broken. “Coward,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure who I was angry at.

 I tried to remember his face but I couldn’t. I squeezed my eyes shut trying harder but all I could remember was feeling a bump below his chin.

 I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood. The floor felt cold, real, too true. That’s when the fear crept in.

My father.

If he found out about this. It wouldn’t end well. Disgust, control, punishment dressed as care.

I shuddered. 

I scanned the nightstand. My phone. My bag. My dress folded nicely. I dressed quickly and grabbed my phone from the nightstand. 

I switched it on regretting why I turned it off in the first place. Immediately it came on, messages flooded in. From Anaya, from my father. I sighed.

My phone buzzed.

Dad: Come home. Now.

I rushed out quickly without looking back.

I closed my eyes. It was already too late.

When I stepped inside, he was waiting. Sitting calmly and smiling. That smile always meant war.

“Where were you?” he asked.

“Out,” I answered.

“With whom?”

“Does it matter?” I shot back.

He stood slowly. “It always matters.”

I crossed my arms. “You don’t own me.”

His smile didn’t fade. “Mila. You should know I wouldn’t do something if I wasn’t sure about it. This is the best thing for you.”

I rolled my eyes, unable to hide my disgust. ”Yeah…for me.” 

“You had time Mila, I never chose for you all these years until now. If you were serious about finding a partner you liked, you would’ve been married by now.” He snapped.

“We’ll discuss that later.” He sighed.

Something about his tone chilled me.

He pointed toward the stairs. “Get ready.”

 “For what?”

“We’re having dinner with the Garrens tonight,” he said. “Put on something decent.”

 My blood ran cold. Tonight?

 My heart started pounding.

He dropped a stack of papers before me.

 “Sign them…now.”

 I forced a smile. “You don’t waste time.”

 “Neither do they. Sign,” he answered.

“Dad… please,” I pleaded, but he didn’t look at me.

I took the pen and shakingly signed my name. Mila Gerald.

 I turned away immediately before he could see my fear.

But he was right. I never dated anyone after Evan.

Evan Cole. 

He was my everything. He had a way of filling a room without trying, and I had been falling for him almost from the moment we met. 

He was tall, his presence confident yet subtle, the kind of man who did not need to announce himself. He had eyes that made you feel seen, that seemed to look into the places you hide from the world, places you’d crawl into just to feel a hint of peace.  

We started dating when we turned 18. The three years we spent together were the best. We traveled the world together, tried new things together, and it felt like we were made specifically for each other.

But all that came crashing down when his grandfather found out about us. He told Evan I wasn’t good for him and Evan didn’t hesitate to dump me.

It took a lot to move on from Evan. I decided to take a break from relationships after that. If I knew my father would one day drag me into a contract marriage, I would’ve never taken a break.

Men.

______________________________________________

I walked into that house like I was going into a courtroom. 

The Garren Estate was magnificent, even better than ours to be honest. Large mansions with shining windows and a driveway with the most luxurious cars.

I didn’t want to be here. Every step felt forced, measured, watched.

My father walked ahead of me, calm as ever. His back was straight. His pace is steady. He looked like a man walking into success, not a man pulling his daughter into a deal.

 I kept my face blank. That’s what I’d heard. Emotion was a weakness. Emotion gave him power.

We stopped when voices reached us, deep, confident, and very much male.

“Mr. Garren,” my father called beaming. “Good to see you.”

They exchanged handshakes and pleasantries while I watched. 

Mr. Garren was a tall, quiet man with sharp eyes that never softened. He spoke calmly but his words felt like orders. Even when he smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes, and the room felt smaller when he was near.

“Hello Mila,” his voice dragged me out of my thoughts.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.

“It’s lovely to meet you too sir, you have a beautiful home,” I said politely, shaking his hand.

He gave me a small smile.

“And this is my son, Ace Garren,” he said.

Ace Garren was not what I expected. He was tall, taller than most men in the room. His broad shoulders filled his black suit easily. His dark hair was neatly cut and his calm eyes looked like they had seen too much.

He was a spitting image of his father, only better and younger.

The moment our eyes met, he froze, only for a second but I noticed. 

He stared at me longer than normal, like he was trying to remember something. I looked away immediately.

Why was he looking at me like that? 

When I looked back, his eyes had softened, almost confused.

“Hello Ace,” my father said proudly. “This is my daughter Mila.”

Ace stepped forward and held out his hand.

“Mila.” He said calmly.

I shook his hand quickly. “Hi” 

A strange feeling ran up my arm but I ignored it.

Dinner started quietly.

The marble table was long, it sparkled under the light. My food sat untouched. 

My father, Ace, and his father talked about business like I wasn’t there. They spoke until my father and Mr. Garren stepped out to check out some papers in his office, leaving Ace and me alone at the table.

“So,” he said, turning to me.

“I heard you studied art,” he said.

I flinched at the sound of his voice. “Who told you that?” 

“Your father,” he replied.

I moved my food around my plate. “It was just a phase.”

“A phase?” He asked. “Art doesn’t sound like a phase.”

“Well, it was,” I said. “Just like this.”

He cleared his throat. “Mila—“

“This marriage…” my voice cracked and I stopped, holding back tears. “I don’t want it,” I said quietly.

He stayed silent.

“I know you didn’t ask for this either,” I rushed, afraid he might shut me down. “But maybe… maybe we could fight it, maybe we don’t have to go through with it.”

His eyes softened. He looked at me like he pitied me.

“We could talk to them,” I continued. “We can tell them it won’t work… that we are not right for each other. I really can’t do this. Please.” 

I closed my eyes, holding back the tears that burned behind my eyes.

He leaned back slightly, his face calm but tired.

“It’s not that simple Mila,” he replied calmly.

“I’m just asking for a way out,” I replied.

“There’s no way out of this,” he said.

His words felt like a door closing. This is it. This is my life now.

I stared down at my plate and our fathers walked in talking as usual.

“I think Mila should move into Ace’s house,” my father said as he sat down.

“It would help them get used to each other,” he continued.

My heart dropped.

“What?” I said sharply.

“And she should start working in Garren Enterprises,” he added. “Under Ace.”

I stood so fast my chair scraped the floor.

“No,” I said. “Absolutely not.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Mr. Garren replied.

Ace turned to him. “Father—“

“It’s settled,” his father said. “She’s going to be your wife so she should start learning about the business,” he added.

I looked at Ace expecting him to say something to counter it but he was quiet. His face was calm but his eyes were restless.

Something broke inside me seeing his defeat. I realized he couldn’t save me either. I walked away before I completely fell apart.