"What? No, Dad! I haven't even finished my bachelor's degree!"
Olivea's voice echoed through the grand living room of their English estate. Her tone carried both disbelief and desperation, but her father remained unmoved.
"Enough, Olivea," Luke Lancestor's voice was heavy, firm, and sharp as a blade. "Maybe this would never have happened if you weren't so wild."
Her heart sank. She knew what he meant by wild. Yes, she went to clubs with her friends. Yes, she drank, laughed, and enjoyed the freedom of her youth. But her father twisted her lifestyle into something shameful. He thought she was reckless, a woman who threw herself into the arms of strangers.
He was wrong.
"Dad, please!" Olivea's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I may go out, I may drink, I may laugh with my friends—but I have never done what you accuse me of. I don't sleep around. I don't give myself to random men. Please, Mom, tell him!"
Her mother, Sabella, didn't defend her. Instead, a smirk touched her lips. "Olivea, this is the best choice for you. The man you will marry is rich… and handsome."
Olivea's hands balled into fists at her sides. Her voice rose, trembling but defiant. "What? No! I don't care if he's rich, or handsome, or even perfect. I don't want to get married! I've just turned twenty-six! My life is mine, not a contract you can sell!"
But her father silenced her with a single sentence, one that crushed the air in her chest.
"This weekend, the marriage will be held in New York. Prepare yourself."
Her body went cold. The argument was over. Luke Lancestor's word was law in this household.
Olivea said nothing more. She turned on her heels, her long hair whipping behind her as she stormed up the staircase and into her room. Slamming the door, she leaned against it, breathing hard, her heart pounding like a trapped bird.
She grabbed her phone and immediately typed a message.
Olivea: Zoe… I'm gonna cry right now.
Zoe: What? Why? What's wrong?
Olivea: My dad arranged a marriage for me… with his friend's son. Ugh, this is the worst thing that's ever happened to me.
Zoe: Damn… haha. Babe, you got this. It's gonna be okay.
Olivea stared at the message, her lips trembling. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but she couldn't reply. Instead, she shut off her phone and tossed it onto her bed. Slowly, she walked toward the balcony, pushing open the glass doors.
The sunset painted the English sky in streaks of gold and crimson, casting a soft glow over the sprawling city below. Olivea rested her cheek against her hand, whispering to herself, "No… no… I can't do this. I'm a virgin. What if… what if something happens after the wedding? What if I can't handle it?"
Her cheeks flamed red at the thought, embarrassment and fear twisting inside her. She rushed back to her bed, burying her face into her pillow. But her restless mind refused to stay still. Grabbing her phone again, she opened Google and typed handsome men in New York.
"Ugh… what is this? Oh my God… this one is hot—" she muttered, scrolling through images. But her moment of escape was interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Come in, Mom," she said, forcing her voice to sound polite.
Sabella entered gracefully, her presence calm but suffocating. She sat at the edge of Olivea's bed, gazing at her daughter's troubled face.
"Olivea," she said softly, "you must understand. This decision is the best way."
Olivea shot to her feet, frustration spilling out of her like fire. "Mom, but why? Why is this the best decision? Why do I have to give up my freedom for a man I don't even know?"
Sabella turned her gaze toward the window, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips. "Because, my dear, you are our only daughter. We only want to protect you. He will protect you. You'll understand one day."
Without waiting for a reply, she stood and left the room, her perfume lingering in the silence.
Olivea stood frozen, her chest heaving. Her mother's words felt like a cage closing around her.
Downstairs, Sabella found her husband in his study. Luke was seated at his desk, reviewing documents, the glow of the lamp highlighting the sharp lines of his face. She placed her hands gently on his shoulders, her voice soft with doubt.
"Darling, are you certain about this? Is he truly the right man for Olivea?"
Luke leaned back, clasping her hands in his. His smile was calm, almost amused.
"Sabella, don't worry. He is a good man. He once called me his rival, but rivalry does not mean hatred. He will treat Olivea well." His laughter rumbled low in his chest. "Besides, this marriage will secure everything."
Sabella exhaled, torn between trust and fear. But Luke's conviction was unshakable.
Tomorrow, they would pack their luggage. The weekend wedding awaited in New York.
And Olivea's fate was sealed.