HER UNRULY HUSBAND

Chapter 2- Command

THE gates of our house opened after almost an hour of driving. The guards stood stiff as they saluted, and the car rolled slowly inside. The driveway stretched long, lined with palm trees and perfectly trimmed hedges. To the public, this house was a symbol of power. To me, it was a reminder of everything I wanted to escape

It was beautiful, yes, but to me it always felt like a cage dressed up in gold.

When the car stopped, the front doors opened, and the house staff lined up just like how the guards did as if I were some honored guest instead of a daughter coming home.

I forced another smile and stepped out. My heels clicking against the stone pavement.

The house still didn’t change. Its full of extravagance and probably…my father is still doing that thing to keep this status intact.

I was still in the lawn area when I smelled the familiar perfume. I turned around and I saw my mother arms wide, urging me to hug her.

“Loriel, finally!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a quick embrace. “Your father will be so pleased to see you back in time for the campaign. And the auction.”

I hugged her back lightly, then pulled away. “It’s good to be home.”

The truth was, it didn’t feel like home anymore. It felt like a stage. And I was about to play the role they wrote for me all over again.

Before I could reply, I heard footsteps. My mother stepped aside, and I knew without looking who it was.

“Loriel.” My father’s voice was strong and commanding.

He went outside to meet me and Micheal. His eyes scanned me the way they always did. He smiled faintly, but it was the kind of smile he used in public.

“Good that you’re back,” he said. It was not a greeting. “I thought I need to drag you from Florence to here. You know your responsibilities.”

“Yes,” I replied coldly. My voice was even, but I felt the tightness in my chest. “I remember, dad.”

He stepped closer and placed his hand on my shoulder. His grip was firm. His eyes searched my face.

“You have to behave. When the people see you beside me, they see unity. That matters more than anything.”

There it is again. My worth measured by what I can give to him. Not as a daughter, but as a piece of his image.

I forced myself to hold his gaze. “I understand.”

He studied me for another moment, then released my shoulder. “Good. Tomorrow, there is a campaign. You will be beside me.”

He turned, already speaking to an aide standing nearby. He rarely waited for me to answer. To him, my agreement was automatic.

But then he stopped, his hand resting on the staircase railing. He spoke again without looking back. His tone was almost casual, but the weight of his words settled on me like a chain.

“Also, Loriel, there are people I want you to meet at the auction. Families who will soon to be yours. I expect you to make a good impression on them.”

My chest tightened. I knew what he meant. He did not need to say more. He was preparing the ground for something larger. Families with sons. Families with influence. Marriages were never about love here. They were about power. For him, everything is just for his political image and status.

I kept my voice steady. “If that is what you want.”

He turned his head slightly. “It is not what I want. It is what is necessary. You will understand soon enough.”

Yeah, very well.

Then he walked away, his footsteps echoing as he climbed the stairs.

My hands curled at my sides. My chest burned with the words I wanted to say but could never speak aloud. I do not want this life. I do not want his plans. I am not a product he can display. I am not a tool he can use.

But I said nothing. I watched the staircase until he disappeared. Only then did I let out a breath I had been holding since he spoke.

My mother touched my arm again, smiling like nothing was wrong. “You must be tired from the flight. Go to your room and rest. Tomorrow is important.”

I nodded. I let her lead me halfway down the hall before I stopped and said, “I can walk by myself.”

Her smile faltered, but she let go. “Of course.”

When I reached my room, I closed the door and leaned against it. The silence inside was heavy but different. This room still carried my things. Books I left behind, photos, clothes. But it felt less like mine now. It felt like a museum display of the girl they wanted me to be.

I walked to the mirror and stared at my reflection. My makeup was still in place, my clothes neat, but my eyes showed the truth.

Why am I back here again? I had a life outside. I was free, even if only for a short time. I breathed without their control. And now I am here, trapped again. I said I would only stay for the campaign, but I know what will happen.

They will pull me deeper, like they always do. They will not stop until I am bound to someone of their choice. A stranger’s ring on my finger. A name tied to mine forever, not because of love but because of politics. I hate this. I hate them for forcing me into it. And yet here I am, standing in front of this mirror, knowing I will play along. At least for now.

The lights from the stage flooded the open-air grounds, making the banners and tarpaulins of my father’s face impossible to ignore. His name was printed on every corner of the event space, on the walls, on the chairs, even on the stage backdrop where it said, “Governor Fernandez: For Progress, For People.”

I hated this part of my life, but here I was, standing beside him in the area reserved for family, near the stage with my mother.

“Loriel,” my father whispered close to my ear, his hand pressing my back lightly. “Remember to smile when the cameras turn.”

I nodded stiffly. He always said that, as if I was too dumb to know. I had been doing this for years. Smile at the cameras, wave when told, shake hands with people, act sweet even if I wanted to disappear.

Inside, I was screaming. But no one could hear that.

If only I didn’t do something terrible five years ago, I’ll be as free as dove now.

I glanced at the crowd again. Some of them were genuinely cheering, others looked like they were just forced to attend. My father had paid for buses to bring people in from far towns probably. Food was free. That was how it always went. Of course, people would come if you gave them food and a free ride.

He stepped forward to greet a group of supporters who came closer to the stage. Cameras followed him. Flashbulbs popped. His smile was wide, practiced, and full of confidence. He was a master at this. I could never tell if he truly believed in what he was saying when he talked about service and change, or if he only wanted power.

Probably both.

One of the coordinators handed me a small flag and urged me to wave it for the photos. I forced a polite smile, raising the flag just enough. My cheeks were starting to hurt.

This is the life he wanted me to show. The perfect daughter of the perfect governor. The obedient one who dressed neatly, stood quietly, and acted as if she believed in everything he said. But inside, I wanted to shout that none of this was mine. This life had been forced on me.