The walls of my fatherâs study used to be lined with framed awards and magazine covers.Now, theyâre just dusty reminders of what used to be.He sits across from us, behind the desk that once ruled a business empire. His fingers tap the surface, steady and slow. Every tap is a countdown. And when it stops, the silence becomes unbearable.âIâve made the decision,â he says.His voice is tired, but his tone is final.He doesnât look at me.He looks at my sister.My twin.Eliora.âYouâll marry Adrian Donavan.âJust like that.Not a request. A command.Eliora doesnât flinch. She crosses her legs, raises one brow, and says, âExcuse me?ââYou heard me.ââNo, I didnât. I thought I heard you say youâre marrying me off to a man I donât know, like itâs 1823.âMy father sighs and stands. His suit is rumpled. He hasnât shaved. This isnât the man who once dined with prime ministers.âThis is the deal,â he says. âDonavan invests fifty million into Vaughn Corp. In return, we merge families. Marriage.
Last Updated : 2025-05-28 Read more