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Leya stood by the edge of her father's study, her fingers trailing along the smooth wood of the desk that had once been his. The room once filled with his presence, his laughter, his unwavering confidence, once alive, now felt like a tomb: cold, hollow, and lifeless. Almost, as if she heard the echo of his voice from the walls, reassuring her that steadiness that she always relied on.
But now nothing was stable anymore.
Nothing was all right.
The memory of his death came crashing upon her like a tide, of which the force threatened to drown her. She remembered the call, how her mom's face had slumped, folding in on itself, as the weight of the news had shattered everything.
Leya watched immobile, her world breaking into pieces. The moment before, her father was alive, vibrant, with plans and dreams. The next... he was gone.
A car accident: sudden, brutal.
Her hands were quivering while she reached for the framed picture lying on the desk, that of her father proudly in front of their family business. She could recall when she looked at the picture and how proud she was of herself. All this now served to remind her of everything they lost. The company that once had been the hallmark of his presence in this world started coming undone almost as quickly as his life did. The mountain of debts stood like some dark storm, unrelenting and devouring the family whole.
The letters from creditors came first, then the calls, then the threats. Each heavier than the last.
Leya watched as the light in her mother's eyes gradually waned, the withering of the spirit from the weight of it all. How she tried to hold on, but a battle she could never win at. They knew that, and so did she.
That was when he showed up.
Mr. Samuel Blackwood
Every millimeter of the space was filled when he stepped into their home. Dark. Ominous. The power just oozed from him, and Leya was sure the air gradually shifted that very instant his voice filtered through. His voice was low with a soothing cadence as he laid down his terms that would keep them safe. Terms that came with a price.
"I will settle your debts," he had said, icily calm. "But there is something I require in return."
Leya's heart had dropped, knowing what it would be without him finishing the sentence. The look in his eyes, the glance at her apparent.
"Your daughter will marry my son, Harrison."
The words hung in the air, her noose tightening around her neck. She turned to her mother, searching for an escape, for something, anything that could free her from this nightmare. But the tears were already welling up in her mother's eyes, her voice trembling in a whisper: "We have no choice, Leya."
No choice.
The words rang in Leya's mind, a cruel refrain that never seemed to fade. And whatever she did, however, she pleaded with her mother to change her mind, the fact was quite inexorable: they were drowning, and Samuel Blackwood was the only one flinging them a lifeline.
And so, she agreed.
But it hadn't been for herself. It had been for her three younger siblings, who looked to her now to keep them safe. They didn't deserve to suffer because of the collapse of their family's world. She'd do anything to protect them; even sacrificing her happiness was called for; even binding herself to Harrison Blackwood was a price she'd pay.
Harrison paced in great waves of tension, his feet eating away at the floor of his father's office. His fists were clenched, his knuckles white, his eyes darting ever towards the door. Behind the great oaken desk, his father sat, indifference to the whole thing exuding from him, just another deal to be handled and forgotten.
"I won't do this," Harrison grated in a low, angry voice. "You can't just simply expect me to marry some girl just because you've made some deal behind my back."
And Mr. Samuel Blackwood raised an eyebrow, his eyes cool and calculating as he looked at his son. "This has nothing to do with what you want, Harrison. This is about the future of our family. About keeping alliances and making sure the Blackwood name doesn't get tarnished."
Harrison's jaw clenched. "I am not going to care about alliances, nor am I going to marry some desperate woman just because her family has gone bankrupt.
"Careful," his father's voice came as a dangerous warning, "it would appear that you forget who is in control here."
It seemed to Harrison that a storm brewed between them, but he knew better than to press his luck any further. His father wasn't a man one crossed lightly unless he wanted the consequences at least.
"I won't love her," Harrison said finally, his voice hard and the last word hanging heavy with defiance. He leaned forward in his seat, bracing his hands on the edge of the desk, knuckles still pale. "You can force this," he said, "but you can't make me care about her."
Mr. Blackwood did not bat an eyelid. He regarded his son through the same detached expression he would if discussing little more than a business transaction and to his mind, he was.
This has nothing to do with love, Harrison," he said calmly. His tone was so even. "Love is nothing in this instance. This pertains to control Power. Ensuring our family remains untouchable. You will marry Leya Anderson and in turn, her family's debts will be erased, their reputation salvaged. You are merely securing their loyalty, nothing more.
Harrison stiffened, hands fisted at his sides. "She's a gold digger. You said it yourself. Why should I play into her hands?"
Samuel's lips arced into the faintest shadow of a smile. "She's desperate, yes. But she is not the threat you seem to think she is. And besides, you will not be playing into her hands. You will hold all the cards."
Turning away, Harrison ran a hand through his hair as frustration boiled under his skin. He hated this, being manipulated, being pushed into a corner. The thought of marrying some woman he hardly knew, a woman whose family was hanging by a thread... It made him sick. But his father wasn't leaving him a choice.
"When is the wedding?" he asked tightly.
His father cast his eyes at the calendar; his voice was nearly all business, as if setting a date for a board of directors meeting. "Two weeks from today. Already everything is being arranged."
The stillness of his father's voice sent Harrison's blood into a boiling frenzy. Two weeks. Just two weeks before he would be chained to her, to this woman he did not want, did not trust. He strode out of the office, the future weighing upon him like a great press of suffocating air.
Closer to the wedding day, the Blackwood mansion became a beehive of activity as people scurried about making preparations.
Leya's mother insisted on trying to make the occasion beautiful, trying to appear and pretend that this was a joyous event instead of the transaction that it was. But Leya just could not find the tiniest speck of joy.
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