Trapped in Love by Kitty Song

The forced marriage was no fairy tale. It was a matter of power, of convenience, a charade orchestrated in the shadow of family obligations. Luca Moretti sat in his father's austere office, looking down at the agreement laid out before him with contempt. His jaw clenched as the words echoed in his head: "For the inheritance, for the family, you must marry Amelie Lefevre."

- So that's it? he snapped. You want to sell me, tie me to a stranger to save your business?

His father, a cold man with a piercing gaze, did not blink.

- This is not a choice, Luca. It is a necessity. The merger with the Lefevres is essential. Their company is faltering, but with our support, it will benefit us. This alliance is strategic, nothing more.

Luca stood up abruptly, making the chair creak against the parquet floor.

- Strategic for you, not for me. I love Julia, you know that. You can't force me to abandon the one I love for a... a stranger!

The heavy silence that fell was broken by his father's dry laugh.

- Do you think love has a place here? Be realistic, Luca. Julia has nothing to offer this family. Amelie, on the other hand, is our key.

The name Amelie Lefevre sounded strangely sweet to Luca's ears. He had only seen her briefly, at a dinner organized by their families a few months before. A discreet young woman, almost self-effacing, dressed in a simple dress, her eyes lowered most of the time. There was nothing remarkable about her, nothing that could arouse any interest. And yet, today, she was at the center of his life, in spite of him.

- What if I refuse? he finally asked, arms crossed, glaring at his father.

- Then you will lose everything, he replied with icy calm. Your position, your inheritance, your place in this family.

Luca felt anger rising inside him, burning, uncontrollable. But behind that anger, a wave of helplessness washed over him. He was trapped, cornered.

The wedding day came faster than he could have expected. Everything seemed planned with surgical precision: the church, the reception, the hand-picked guests. But to Luca, it was all a grotesque farce.

Amelie, in a dressing room adjacent to hers, looked at her reflection in the mirror. The white satin dress suited her perfectly, highlighting her slim figure. Her hair was tied up in an elegant bun, a few strands falling delicately over her face. Yet she was not smiling. Her gaze, lost in her own reflection, betrayed a glimmer of sadness mixed with a strange determination.

The door opened quietly, and his mother entered.

- You look beautiful, my dear, she said with a trembling smile.

Amelie turned to her, giving a forced smile.

- Thank you, Mom.

His mother placed a hand on his shoulder.

- I know this isn't what you wanted, but...