For Richer or Poorer; The Billionaire's forbidden vow

The skyline glittered under the soft glow of evening lights as Ethan Reynolds stepped outside his mansion, his steps were calculated as if they were programmed to move after a second. The air was thick with anticipation and a sense of what would happen next as he climbed into his luxurious car, the scent of money emanating from his custom-tailored suit, his shoe and even his dark glasses were enough to show that he was a billionaire. Tomorrow, he would turn thirty, a milestone that would open a chapter of his life that was tied to the Reynolds family legacy.

The car carried him away through the busy streets of hustling, and as the city's heartbeat moved around him, Ethan couldn't shake off the thoughts tingling at the edge of his heart. The anticipation of what awaited him at his uncle's prestigious law firm gnawed at him. Tonight, he would meet with the family patriarch, his uncle Richard Reynolds, to discuss the inheritance that would be bestowed upon him as he stepped into his thirties.

He pulled up to the grand entrance of Reynolds & Associates, a towering architectural masterpiece hidden among the financial buildings of Wall Street. As Ethan stepped out onto the polished sidewalk, he took a deep breath and a moment to compose himself. The huge glass door reflected the city lights, reflecting a confused image of the man who was about to inherit a fortune in the next 6 hours.

He entered the building, the cool air of grandeur wrapping around him like a familiar cloak. The reception area was a proof to the family's success, it was adorned with beautiful tile and modern art that whispered affluence. At the sight of him, the receptionist stood up to welcome him with a discreet nod as he walked towards her desk

"Mr. Reynolds you're welcome, your uncle is expecting you in his office on the top floor," she informed, her tone as sweet and efficient as the surroundings.

"Thank you," Ethan replied, his voice carrying the tone of a man that was familiar with the formalities of high society. He made his way to the elevator, as his fear increased with every floor that he passed.

As the elevator doors slid open on the top floor, Ethan stepped into a corridor adorned with quality furniture and pictures of Reynolds family ancestors. The air here was filled with a scent of history, each step echoing the footsteps of those who had shaped the family's legacy.

He reached the double doors of his uncle's office, marked with a discreet brass metal that read 'Richard L. Reynolds, Senior Partner.' Ethan took a deep breath before he knocked once and entered.

The office carried an air of authority, thoroughly adnored with quality furnitures, leather-bound books, and the subtle scent of wealth. Behind an large desk was Richard Reynolds, a man whose steely gaze and silver hair commanded respect. He looked up from his computer screen with a hint of satisfaction crossing his face as he saw his nephew.

"Ethan, my boy, come in," Richard greeted, his voice carrying the weight of years of legal expertise. "Happy early birthday."

"Thank you, Uncle Richard," Ethan replied, shaking his uncle's outstretched hand. His eyes met the sharp gaze of the older man, recognizing the gravity of the moment.

"Sit, it seems you grow taller and handsome each day," Richard said as he motioned to the leather chair opposite his desk. "But that aside, Let's get down to business."

Ethan took his seat, a sense of formality settling over the room. The elder Reynolds twisted his fingers as he looked deeply at Ethan with a composed expression.

"As you know, turning thirty is a significant milestone for the Reynolds family," Richard began, his words carefully chosen. "You've proven yourself worthy of the responsibilities that come with it, both within the family and in your own business."

Ethan nodded, his gaze unwavering.

"Therefore, it is time for you to assume your role as a custodian of the family fortune," Richard continued. "Tomorrow, on your thirtieth birthday, the full details of your inheritance will be revealed to you."

A surge of anticipation coursed through Ethan's veins. The sound of those words lingered in the air, and he could almost taste the new level of affluence, wealth and power that awaited him.

"There is, however, one condition," Richard added, his eyes locking onto Ethan's.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, his composure unyielding. "What condition?"

Richard leaned back in his chair, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "You must marry within the next six months. It must be a union that will solidify the Reynolds legacy and ensure its continued prosperity."

Ethan's expression changed immediately, reflecting a ripple of tension surged beneath the surface. Marry? The word echoed in his mind, setting off a mix of thoughts and emotions he hadn't anticipated.

"In return, the full details of the Reynolds fortune will be unveiled to you, and you will officially take the power of the family empire," Richard explained.

Ethan absorbed the weight of his uncle's words with the realization settling in. The path to his destiny was well explained, paved with both privilege and obligation. As he left his uncle's office, the city lights outside seemed to fade with a newfound intensity, casting shadows on a future he could not escape.

The sleek black car glided through the city streets, the hum of its engine a steady counterpoint to the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in Ethan's mind. The tall buildings blurred into a sea of lights as he rode through the familiar route home, the weight of his uncle's ultimatum lingering in the air like an unspoken challenge.

"Six months to get a wife," Ethan muttered to himself, his hands gripping the leather steering wheel with a hint of frustration. The city's night skyline served as a silent witness to his internal thoughts. Six months to find a suitable match, to fulfill the expectations thrust upon him as the heir to the Reynolds fortune.

The mansion loomed in the distance, its grandeur a stark contrast to the trouble within Ethan's mind. As he pulled into the gated driveway, the imposing structure of stone and glass stood as if it awaited his presence. The mansion was more than just a home; it was a symbol of the Reynolds legacy, a legacy now resting squarely on Ethan's shoulders.

He parked the car, the engine's purr fading into the quiet of the night. Ethan remained seated for a moment, the weight of the impending task settling over him like a heavy hat placed on his head that he couldn't take off.

"I don't believe in love," Ethan declared, his voice carrying a hint of defiance. He had seen too many relationships broken by ulterior motives, too many gold-diggers vying for a piece of the Reynolds fortune. Love, to him, had become a distant and elusive concept. He had swore never to fall in love with any woman nor come close to them but now family's legacy demands it of him

As he Exixedg the car, he walked towards the grand staircase leading to the mansion's entrance. The double doors swung open as if welcoming him into a new world. The echo of his footsteps reverberated through the expansive space, each stride carrying him closer to the reality that awaited him.

The mansion felt both empty and suffocating. Ethan made his way to the study, a room adorned with rich furnishings. It was here that he grappled with the weight of his family's expectations.

Seating himself behind the imposing desk, Ethan stared at the city lights twinkling beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. The night held a quietude that seemed to amplify the relentless ticking of the clock on the wall. Six months was a short span that now stretched before him like an unexpected journey he must embark on.

"Love is a luxury I can't afford," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the city below. The memories of past relationships surfaced, each one was birthed by the suffocating presence of wealth. It had become a barrier, a barrier between him and genuine connection.

His fingers drummed on the polished surface of the desk, a subconscious rhythm of dissatisfaction. The pressure to conform to societal expectations clashed with his desire for authenticity. As he contemplated the path laid out for him, a sense of rebellion simmered beneath the surface.

In the dim light of the study, Ethan reached for a crystal wine bottle, pouring a generous measure of liquid into a crystal glass. The fiery liquid glowed in the soft light, mirroring the turmoil within him.

"Six months to find a wife," he murmured again, the bitterness in his tone betraying the complexity of his emotions. The notion of an arranged marriage, even in its form, felt like an intrusion into the Independence he had always prized.

The clock's hands continued their relentless march, the hours slipping away as Ethan grappled with the conflicting forces pulling at him. The city outside, now hidden in the darkness of night, seemed both distant and all-encompassing.

As he leaned back in the leather chair, the amber liquid in his glass cast dancing reflections in his eyes. Six months was a deadline that carried the weight of tradition and expectation. The mansion, with its hallowed halls, stood as a silent witness to the internal struggle that would define the next chapter of Ethan Reynolds' life.

The night wore on, and the city's heartbeat outside remained steady. Within the mansion's walls, however, a different rhythm unfolded—one of contemplation, resistance, and the uncertain journey toward a future dictated by duty rather than desire.