Forced Marriage: Breaking Free from Love

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nd a guy I'm content to stay in a relationship with for more than six months. There is always something I get bored with, although I can't say it's the sex. So, I'

ly started to take off. Suddenly, it was making millions, and my dad was hardly ever home. Mum stayed back, gave up her career as a model, put her stu

o carry everything. And I mean everything. There were nights I'd wake up to find her crying on the couch, quietly sniffling, but never telling me why. I thought it was because of me. I used to

, it became clearer: my dad was just a sleazebag who couldn't keep his dick in his pants. According to the tabloids, the affair was with his assistant. But I never bothered

and, had more girlfriends than I've had hot dinners. As for me, I guess I took after him. I'm not exactly the relationship typ

very time I think about marriage, I picture my father's endless parade of ex-wives sobbing in my ear about how much of an asshole he was. Trust me, I heard it all. My c

son for the sake of his company. Maybe some nerdy idiot who'll be too clueless to realize what I'm doing. Or even worse, he might try to get me to marry some old,

tastic this would be for the company, but all I hear is the hum of my thoughts spinning out of control. It's almost laughable how predictable he is. As if I could be bought. The man practically

he hell is he thinking? This isn't just about love or commitment-this is business. For him, it always has been. And it's not like we don't have billions already. My father could buy

than me, just to help prop up his crumbling empire. I hate how I can already predict the future. I can see this man, this business shark, sitting across from me, grinning l

o be used and discarded based on a business deal? I can't believe I'm even considering this. But then again, what other choice do I have? It's not like I have a say in my life, right

rom all of it. Find a place where I'm not just a pawn in some game. But where would I go? Who woul

, but I don't speak. What's the point? There's

her asks, his tone sharp, b

nd. "Sure," I say, my voice flat, masking the bit

n't. Not

g for both of us. For him, at least. I don't hear the rest of it, my mind already lost in a sea of doubt and an

is spinning, and all I can do is hold on. The one thing I'v