"Can you do me a favor?
I need your help."
"Alright, Dad, what is it this time?" Freya asked her father curiously.
"Freya, get married."
Her father's words struck her like a slap.
"What!?"
Her asked eyes widened,in horror.
To who?I don't even have a boyfriend dad,she stuttered.
"You are kidding me right?
But the baleful look in Mr Carter's eyes says otherwise.
Freya has lived her entire life within her family control, but this? This was too far.
"I'm not going to do it,""Her hands quaking at her sides.
Her voice trembling.
You have to help me out Freya,her father pleaded his eyes pleading with hers.
Mr Carter moved closer to his daughter slightly patting her shoulders pulling her into a warm embrace.
Freya you have to help your father get out of this.
Daddy's little angel,his voice softer.
His eyes pleading.
Won't daddy's angel help him out? Mr Carter asked Freya as he raised he thick brows.
The name Mr Carter calls his daughter only when he wants her to get something done.
Freya eyes welled up with tears.
"You expect me to marry a stranger, someone I've never even met?
Freya asked her father in disbelief,her voice trembling With tears welling up in her eyes.
Oh no Don't cry,he is a very wealthy man and handsome as well.
He would give you everything you want just say yes,but is okay if you want daddy to be locked up behind bass.
Mr Carter muttered with a sad tone.
I don't even know this man.
Freya's voice cracked with desperation.
please, you have to help me .
" Mr Carter begged his daughter.
"For me, for the family and for you," his voice heavy with emotions, as if the weight of their future rested on her shoulders.
"Father, please, don't make me do this,"her voice trembling with desperation as she shook her head in refusal.
I promise, you'll be happy after the marriage,his voice softening in an attempt to reassure her.
"He's wealthy, You won't have to worry about anything,not bills nothing at all.
Freya scoffed, biting her tongue to hold back the words that threatened to spill out.
Fighting back the tears from welling up in her eyes as she struggled to contain her emotions.
Freya's selflessness had become a defining trait, as she consistently put her family's happiness above her own desires, often sacrificing her own needs and dreams in the process.
"This is too much, Father," she protested, her voice rising in distress.
"You're offering me to a stranger in marriage, like I'm some kind of commodity. It's ridiculous!"
Is fine then, I guess I'd remain behind bass for the rest of my life, Mr Carter muttered quietly walking out of the room.
Alright dad, I'll think about it.
She couldn't come to think of her father staying behind bars for the rest of his life just because she refused to get married to someone who could help; she'd feel guilt for the rest of her life.
Mr. Carter hugged his daughter and kissed her forehead; he heaved a sigh at his daughter's response.
Good night," Freya muttered quietly to her father and walked to her room, leaving him standing, a triumphant smirk spread across his wrinkled face.
He knew his daughter too well; since she told him she would think about it, it meant she'd agree to marry Hilary.
Freya cried all night in her room, thinking about her decision. Maybe it was the best after all.
She had done a lot for her family and these was just one of them, besides what is a family without sacrifices she thought
Consoling herself.
She hugged herself to sleep with a heavy heart, not knowing what the next day might be for her; her mind was blank.
She was only a 22-year-old young girl, still figuring out life — her career and life itself.
She woke up the next morning before she realized she had slept on the ground.
She felt hungry and light, as she hadn't eaten her dinner the night before; she had lost her appetite.
She walked to the dinning table,it was already arranged with most of her favorite meals,that was so unusual.
From the stairs she saw her step mother Helen Carter.
Sitted on the dinning chair,her face unsually bright than usual.
Freya dear, come eat up and get dressed,your husband is waiting for you.
Helen walked up to Freya patting her shoulder slightly.
Freya decided she,d to talk to her mother about everything, once the marriage process was done.
But one thing she wouldn't do is telling her mother the condition of the marriage,her mother will be devastated.
After the meal, Freya got dressed in a casual white corporate gown that crossed her knee length.
She packed her hair into a high ponytail.
A black limousine with tinted windows was already waiting for her outside her father's house.
It was just a simple court marriage between her and her new husband.
The drive to the courthouse took just one hour.
While on the ride to the court house, Freya quietly watched outside through the tinted glass,deep down she knew this isn't the life she dreamed of and this isn't the life she wanted for herself.
But then she had to step up for her father, she can't bear the guilt, if she doesn't who would?
As Freya reached the court house, she walked straight to the magistrate office,as she was told.
Without reading what the paper contains she writes her signature.
Her mind was blank and so is her head.
"Freya's thoughts scattered the moment a strong, commanding cologne cut through the air—smoky, with a hint of spice.
He walked in with the unhurried swagger of a man who didn't just own the room, but the whole damn planet, his gaze sharp enough to strip secrets and his presence pressing against her skin like heat."
She raised her head to get a clearer view of the man she had agreed to spend the rest of her life with.
Hillary Thompson.
Her breath caught in her throat when her eyes met with his deep eyes.
At first when her father told her his name,she didn't give it much of a thought,she thought it was just a coincidence, besides people answer the same name and surname as well ,but she was wrong this time.
The man standing right in front of her is none other than the, cold-hearted CEO of Cyan inc and youngest billionaire in Mayor city.
Her breath hitched in her throat,her palms sweating as she watched him boring his gaze into hers.
They attended the same high school and even sat side by side in class at some point.
She remembered him just like her name, every memory was stuck in her brain.
He was the last person she expected to see.
Looking at Hilary standing right in front of her made her stomach churn.
They only didn't attend the same highschool,he bullied her in highschool.
No. No, no, no.this can't be happening, Freya exclaimed to herself.
She pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
A weight crushed her heart.
She tried to speak but her tongue felt wobbly.
Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
What has she gotten herself into?
Looking at the man standing before her,he wasn't the boy from highschool anymore.
He has grown taller than she recalled, broader shoulder,bright blue eyes,black hair, chiseled jawline.
His cold demeanor seems to have increased.
Hilary stretched his hand to Freya with a sly smile gesturing to her for a handshake.
She hesitated for a moment before taking Hilary's hand.
He gestured for her to take the lead while he followed behind.
They walked to the black limousine waiting outside.
The ride was silent, yet filled with tension,but neither of them spoke to each other.
The car soon came to a halt in front of a mansion
"Judging by the polished elegance of the surroundings—the velvet drapes, the soft golden lighting, the quiet hum of wealth in the air—Freya had no doubt it belonged to the world of the high class."
Hilary stepped out first.
"Let's go."he muttered without expression, leading the way.
A low gasp escaped Freya's lips as she stepped out off the car.
Hilary stepped forward, bringing space between them.
"Can We talk?" Freya asked Hilary.
Her voice was cracky but she tried to steady her voice.
She could be with anyone but not Hilary,she needed to get things straight and done right away.
She will work harder to provide the money for her father but staying with Hilary was out of it all.
She'd talk things out with him,she wouldn't stay married to him.
"This is the key." Hilary handed the house keys to Freya, then turned and walked back to the car, leaving her standing alone at the door.
He didn't even give her the chance to say a word.
From a distance, he watched as she unlocked the door, while the driver carried her luggage inside.
As Freya stepped inside, she was stunned—the house was even more beautiful than she had imagined. Everything was neat, collected, and perfectly arranged, nothing like the careless space she expected from a bachelor.
The mansion boasted three living areas, four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a spacious kitchen, and two balconies with wide-open views.
She wandered through each room in quiet awe before finally settling into the one that felt right for her—the smallest bedroom.
The other rooms seemed bigger,
Freya estimated the entire house to be at least three thousand square feet.
Only two of the bedrooms were equipped with a wardrobe and bed.
Despite the divided space the master bedroom remained huge like the living hall, complete with a study,closet and a huge bathroom.
After dragging her luggage into the room, Freya went to the kitchen.
The kitchen was sparkly clean but without any equipment.
She wanted to buy some kitchen utensils but she needed to ask Hilary first, it's his house and she has to ask for his permission.
Freya picked up her ringing phone in her bag.
What are you up to Freya
You haven't been taking my calls.
Karen, Freya's best friend, asked out of concern.
Umh, let's meet at the restaurant, Freya told her friend.
Since Karen already knows where their favorite spot was, she quickly ordered a cab
Karen knows her friend too well,she knows there was more to Ella not picking up her calls throughout.
She is not usually like that.
When Karen arrived she ordered coffee while she sat and waited for her best friend.
What's up with you, you don't seem bright.
Karen's eyes bore into Freya's.
Freya's brows furrowed,as she pursued her lips.
Tell me, who is it you got married to?" Karen frowned, her voice sharp with disbelief.
"I know you don't even look at another man since you broke up with Martin—dickhead," she added, cursing martins through gritted teeth.
Karen was never gentle with anyone who dared to hurt her best friend.
Ignoring Karen's questions,Freya sat there calmly, sipping her coffee as though the world hadn't just tilted on its axis.
"Who is your husband?" Karen pressed again.