The Inheritors

ChapterOne

At the Marteens group headquarters—a sleek, glass-walled penthouse office overlooking the skyline of the city of Ericteria

A frame with the inscription; power is not inherited; It is taken. Hung on the wall above Isaiah martins head.

Well, Shawn Martin wasn’t about to let his power be taken away from him by anybody.

His father’s voice, cold and commanding as always cut through the silence like a hot knife through butter.

“You have one option, Shawn. Get Married. Or watch someone else take your legacy.”

Shawn dwindled back into the leather chair, feigning disinterest, he drummed with his fingers against the armrest. His chin tightened, but his face betrayed no emotions. Across from him, Isaiah Martins—the man who gave him life but not love watched him with the same detached scrutiny he reserved for business transactions.

It wasn't a request. It was an ultimatum.

Shawn was aware of what was happening. His half-brother Julius has been lurking in the dark like a serpent whispering poison into their father's ear. he is like a vulture waiting to pounce on his carcass. If Shawn didn't prove to be a stable, family-oriented man, the investors would lose confidence in him. His inheritance—his birthright—would be handed over to Julius.

“That fool,” Shawn thought as he let out a scoff.

Rubbing his eyes with his fingers Shawn exhaled slowly. “A wife?” he smirked, though there was nothing too funny about it. “And where exactly am I supposed to find one on such short notice?”

Isaiah didn't blink. Instead, he slid a folder across the desk. “You don't have to. I already have.”

Shawn’s smirk faded.

“Mr. Matthew Phillips owes us money” Isaiah continued, tapping on the folder. “More than he can ever repay” Isaiah gave a sly grin of satisfaction “but, he has something of value—his daughter.”

Shawn’s jaw tightened. “You want me to marry some desperate girl in exchange for her father’s debt?”

“I want you to secure your seat on the board” Isaiah corrected. “Which decent lady do you think would love to marry you in this state?” he snapped.

“You don't have to love her. You don't even have to like her. You just have to marry her”

An oppressive silence fell between them.

Shawn looked at the folder. Amanda Philips. Twenty-five. College graduate. Quiet. Unassuming. A nobody. He scoffed.

He didn't care so much about marriage. But he gave a damn about power.

And Julius wasn't going to get his seat.

Shawn snapped the folder shut. “Fine. Tell Matthew Philips his daughter just got engaged.”

****

A clogged, dimly lit apartment on the outskirts of Erictera.

Amanda’s hands trembled as she clenched the edge of the toilet sink.

As She bends to wash her face. Her father’s words echoed in her head. “You’re getting married.”

She swallowed hard. “You what? How?”

Matthew Philips, weary and defeated, wouldn’t meet her eyes “Shawn Martins has agreed to clear our debts if you marry him.”

Amanda stepping back, shook her head “No. No, this is pure madness. I am not some object you can trade off for money.”

Matthew let out a broken sigh. “Amy, I had no choice.”

“You always have a choice, dad.” She screamed, her voice filled with anger laced with desperation. “You chose to gamble everything away. You chose to drink and be merry instead of fixing things. You chose to run away from the troubles you created and now I’m supposed to pay for your mistakes? Your foolishness?

His shoulders sagged. “I know I have failed you. But this…this is the only way to save you.”

Amanda let out a dry bitter laugh. “Save me?” You’re selling me.”

Her father’s silence was all the reply she needed.

Her body felt chill, her breath cold. Shawn Martin. She had seen him on television. Wealthy. Arrogant. Ruthless.

And now, she was to be his wife?

A prison disguised as a marriage.

Amanda clenched her fists. Then cleared everything on the sink in outburst. Tears rolling down her cheeks. If this was her fate. She would survive it.

She wasn’t just sure if she would come out whole

****

A private ceremony at St. Anthony Cathedral, surrounded by wealth but devoid of warmth.

Amanda stood at the altar, bedraggled in lace and silence.

The wedding was small, but the weight of it crushed her. No friends. No family—except for her father— they were too average to be at such a gathering.

“He even had the guts to look proud” Amanda looked at her father in disgust.

Shawn MARTINS stood beside her, his presence permeating the atmosphere with power and indifference. His fitted black suit was pristine, and his expression unreadable. He hadn't even looked at her the whole time.

The priest's voice echoed through the cathedral, pulling Amanda from her fears. “Do you, Shawn Alexandra Martins, take Amanda Josephine Philips to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

A beat of silence.

Amanda's breath became entangled.

Then, Shawn’s voice—cool, calm, detached— filled the space.

“I do”

Her Hands quivered as he slid the ring onto her finger.

A binding oath. A business transaction. A cage.

The priest turned to her. “And do you, Amanda Josephine Philips, take Shawn Alexandra Martins to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Amanda's throat went sour. She wanted to scream. To disappear. To run. But there was nowhere to go.

Her father's debt. Her lack of options. The obdurate man beside her.

“I do”

The words barely left her lips above a whisper.

Shawn’s hand grasped hers, firm. The weight of the movement pressed down on her. She took in a bitter swallow.

And as their bows were sealed with a kiss—quick, meaningless, unappealing— Amanda Philips realized something

She had just married a man who might never love her.

And worse?

She might never be able to stop herself from loving him.