One Night Stand (stuck between two brothers).

OfficiallyMrsKnight

Kaia pov.

I felt a prickling sensation against my back, an insistent nudging that roused me from the depths of sleep. Blinking against the lingering fog of dreams, I was slowly drawn into awareness by the soft morning light spilling through the slightly parted curtains, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. My body ached, heavy with exhaustion, and my mind struggled to piece together the fragments of the night before. What time is it? I turned my head, my gaze falling on the alarm clock—6:45 a.m. My stomach dropped. I’d only been asleep for a few hours.

The club. The music. The drinks and s*x. Nick, my personal driver, had dropped me off at 3 a.m., and I’d stumbled into bed without even bothering to undress. And now… I turned my head again, and my breath caught. My father sat on the edge of my bed, his large frame looming, his hands gripping his walking stick with a firmness that sent a chill down my spine. His presence was suffocating, his dark eyes boring into mine with an intensity that made my stomach twist.

“Have you made your decision?” His voice was calm, but the undercurrent of authority was unmistakable. It wasn’t a question—it was a demand.

I sat up slowly, my heart pounding, my fingers clutching the edge of the blanket. My eyes darted around the room, taking in the details I’d missed in my groggy state. A wedding gown hung from a clothes hanger, its white fabric gleaming in the morning light. My luggage was neatly packed next to it . And two guards stood at the entrance of my room, their presence a silent reminder that there was no escape. I knew how this would end . I'd either marry willingly or by force. Either way I will be walking down the aisle .

So much for having a choice..

My father’s love for control was legendary. He ruled his empire with an iron fist, and he’d always treated me like one of his business ventures—something to be managed, molded, and exploited for his gain. And he wouldn't stand anyone or anything disobeying him. Especially me .

He’d wanted a son, not a daughter, and my mother’s inability to conceive again after my birth had only deepened his resentment.

"You’re a girl," he’d told me once, his voice dripping with disappointment. "A girl can’t carry on the family legacy."

As if that were my fault. As if I’d chosen to be born this way.

I’d spent my entire life trying to prove myself, to earn his approval, but nothing was ever enough.

I’d studied business instead of pursuing my dream of becoming a fashion designer. I’d gone on dates with CEOs he wanted to partner with, plastering on a smile while I endured their pompous conversations and wandering hands. And still, it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough.

And now, this.

“I don’t want this,” I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

“This isn’t about what you want, Kaia. This is about what’s best for our family. Caspian Knight is a powerful man. His connections, his wealth—they’ll secure our future. You should be grateful.”

Grateful. The word tasted bitter on my tongue. Grateful to be sold off like a prized racehorse? Grateful to marry a man twice my age, whose name I only knew from boardroom whispers and the occasional headline?

I stood, my legs trembling slightly as I made my way to the bathroom. The cold tiles beneath my feet sent a shiver up my spine, but I welcomed it. Anything to distract me from the reality waiting for me outside that door.

When I emerged, my father was gone. But the guards were still there, their eyes boring into me as if daring me to make a move. And then there was the makeup artist, her hands already busy unpacking her kit, her face a mask of professional indifference.

Minutes passed in a blur. Foundation. Blush. Eyeshadow. Lipstick. By the time she was done, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me in the mirror. The satin gown hugged my curves, the heavy makeup accentuating my hazel eyes, turning them into something almost otherworldly.

"Perfect," I whispered, though the word tasted like ash on my tongue.

The door creaked open, and my mother stepped in, her face lighting up with a smile so bright it almost hurt to look at.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed , her voice soft and almost maternal. “My daughter is so beautiful.”

I turned to face her, my heart aching with a mix of anger and longing. “Are you happy?”

Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered“Of course!” she said, stepping closer to adjust the veil that I hadn’t even noticed until now. “My daughter is getting married. What mother wouldn’t be happy?”

"But I don’t want this marriage, Mom."

Her expression hardened, and I saw the woman behind the smile—the woman who was just as cold, just as calculating, as my father.“Our family needs this marriage, Kaia. It’s not about what you want.”

“No,” I shot back, my anger boiling over. “Dad needs this marriage. He’s the one who wants to be on top, who wants to control everything. And you—you’re just like him. You don’t care about me. You care about money and power.”

My mother’s face hardened more, her eyes narrowing as she took a step closer.

"You should be happy you’re marrying Caspian Knight," she snapped. "Do you know how many women would kill to be in your position?"

"He’s an old man," I shot back, my voice rising.

"Who cares about that? All that matters is that he’s rich."

"Is that why you married Dad?"

The slap came so fast I didn’t have time to react. Her palm connected with my cheek, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. My head snapped to the side, the sting spreading across my skin like wildfire.

"How dare you speak to me that way," she hissed.

She turned to the makeup artist, her expression softening as if nothing had happened. "Retouch her makeup, I don't want any red mark to ruin her big day." she ordered, before striding out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

I stood there, my cheek burning, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps and a tear fell from my eyes.

*County Clerk's Office*

The office was sterile, with fluorescent lights that buzzed faintly overhead, making the room feel even colder. I sat in a stiff-backed chair, my hands clenched into fists in my lap. The man across the table, in his late fifties, with thinning hair and a too-wide smile that made my stomach churn shook my father’s hand and sat down . The wedding was private just families. He probably didn't want the media to know about it.

"Welcome," he said, his voice overly cheerful. " My name is George. I’m Mr. Knight’s lawyer. I’ll be handling the marriage registry."

“Where’s Mr. Knight?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

. "Oh, he’s not coming. I’ll be overseeing everything."

I glanced at my father then, hoping for some kind of reaction, some sign that this wasn’t okay. But he just sat there, his face blank, as if this were all perfectly normal.

"Where’s the document she needs to sign?" he asked, his tone impatient.

George slid a stack of papers toward me, and I stared at them, my vision blurring. I didn’t read them. What was the point? I picked up the pen, my hand trembling, and signed my name. The sound of the pen scratching against the paper was deafening in the silence of the room.

"Congratulations," George said, his voice echoing in my ears. "You’re now Mrs. Knight."