The Billionaire's Bargain wife.

Tears rolled down Amara's cheek as she stared at the man she once trusted more than anyone. “How could you?” Dad, her voice trembled. “How could you sell me off like some kind of property?” Mr. John didn't meet her eyes. His hand shakes as he reached for a glass of Water on the table. “I had no choice, he whispered.” Amara's heart pounded in her chest. “You gave me away to a stranger. For what? For Money?” “Not money,” he said, voice cracking. “For your father's life, they would've sent me to jail.” “Then what is it like?” She snapped. “Dad, You signed a contract for marriage without my consent, without my opinion. You gave me out to a stranger to save yourself and your business!” she said, tears dropping down her cheek.” Mr. John slammed his fist on the table. “He's not just a stranger. He's Mark Reynolds! A billionaire, he agreed to clear my debt. I had no choice.” Amara's heart shattered. “And I did?” What about my choice, my life, my future? I don't even know him yet! “I can't marry someone I don't love.” A sharp knock at the door. Amara looked at her father, then to the door as she opened it. A man stepped into the room. Tall. well-dressed, cold eyes. The air around him shifted the moment he entered. Mark Reynolds. Her future husband, the man who bought her freedom. He didn't even smile, he turned his face straight to Mr John. “I have been waiting all day for her to come home, I waited, so I decided to come around,” he said calmly. Amara answered sharply. “Am not marrying you!” Mark walked closer, his eyes unreadable. “You’re already mine, the marriage certificate was registered an hour ago. welcome to my world, Mrs. Reynolds.” Amara backed away in shock. “No… this isn't happening…” Her father couldn't even look at her. Amara's lips parted. “What do you want, why marry me?” His gaze dropped slowly from her eyes to her waist, her legs, then back up. “You.” Amara felt her stomach twist. she stared at her father one last time, hoping he would speak up. But he didn't. “You will be picked up tomorrow," Mark added. Pack lightly, I don't like clutter.” He turned and left the room, leaving silence behind. Amara dropped on the floor, heartbroken and helpless. tears dropping down her cheek. “Amara,” Mr. John called, trying to touch her. “Don't touch me,” she said. she stood up and walked to her room. “I can't believe this is happening to me.” she whispered to herself. The next morning, a black car waited outside Amara's house. Her suitcase sat by her feet, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She has no choice, but to accept her fate and save her family. Her father didn't come out to say goodbye. Maybe he was so ashamed. She arrived at Mark's mansion, it was beautiful. white marble floors. Gold curtains. crystal chandeliers. A maid showed Amara to her room. It was large and spotless. She sat on the bed and looked around her new room. “My new world.” she said calmly. The door opened an hour later. Mark leaned against the frame. “You'll follow my rules,” he said calmly. “No going out unless I say. No talking to my staff unless necessary. And definitely no visitors.” Amara didn't reply. He stepped closer. “I didn't marry you for your voice. I married you to fill a space. so be quiet. look pretty. and stay out of my way.” he turned towards the door, and stopped. don't forget I need you in my room by 9:00 pm. He said, calmly. Amara could not hold her tears. “what have I gotten myself into?” she whispered to herself, tears dropping down her cheek. Days passed in silence. Make left early, returned late. He barely spoke to her and when he did, it was to correct her. “Don't touch that.” “Don't walk there.” “Don't dress like that.” Amara ate alone. Slept alone. She cries herself to sleep. her world had become a golden prison. Early one morning, Amara stood by the window watching the garden below, then she saw a handsome looking young man. A tall, kind eyes, laughing gently. Paul Reynolds. Mark's cousin. He looked up and caught her watching. he smiled For the first time in weeks, she smiled back. Later that afternoon, Paul knocked on the sitting room door. “Mind if I join you?” he asked. Amara blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Of course not.” He sat a little far from her, eyes curious. “I'm Mark's cousin, paul. I just returned from New York a few days ago. And you're his new bride?” he asked calmly. Yes, that's right. She answered with a little smile. I am Amara by name. “You don't talk much. Is the mansion quiet for you?” he asked. She gave a sad smile. “Too loud in the wrong ways.” Paul laughed softly. “I know what you mean. Mark isn't exactly a bouquet of roses.” Her eyes flickered to the hallway. “He doesn't like when people talk to him.” Paul shrugged. “He's not here?” “No,” he's not yet back from work. She said softly. They say in silence for a while. Then he said quietly, handing over his call card to Amara “if you ever need someone to talk to… I'm around.” He stood up, and left the house. That night, Amara lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She could still hear Paul's laugh. The softness in his eye and the kindness in his voice. What am I doing? She thought. Her phone buzzed beside her. One message from Paul: “you smiled today. I hope you do it again tomorrow.” She closed her eyes. a tear slipping down her cheek. That night. Amara slept on the bed smiling. Amara wakes up early to get some chill drinks in the fridge downstairs. As she walked down the stairs, she overheard a phone conversation from Mark's bedroom. His voice was cold. “She's just a placeholder. You're still the one I want. Once she breaks. I will come back to you.” Amara froze at the last words. “I married her to make you jealous,” he said.