Anything You Want (English)

Strangers at the Altar

"So, is wealth really all-powerful?" Drake muttered as he strode up to Samantha.

She stood at the mansion’s doorway, watching her family in the garden, where laughter mingled with the scent of grilled meat. Every weekend, her grandfather’s siblings, their children, and grandchildren gathered here. Despite their endless bickering, they always found their way back to each other—because family, for better or worse, was an unbreakable thread.

"Why are you looking at me like I just crawled out of a grave?" His voice carried a teasing edge, but Samantha flinched at his words, eyes darting to his.

"Don’t think for a second that I’m going to marry you just because—"

"Relax, I already know," he cut in, amusement flickering in his gaze. "We literally met today. Who in their right mind would believe we’re in love?"

"Normally," he went on, his tone turning thoughtful, "a girl would be terrified if she were being forced into marriage with a stranger." People like you want to marry for love. But you—" he studied her as if she were a puzzle he had yet to solve, "you look like you couldn’t care less. No fear, no resistance—just acceptance. Why?"

She tilted her head, a small smile curving her lips. "I guess that makes me abnormal."

His brows furrowed, as if her indifference disturbed him more than outright defiance.

"I don’t like vague things. So let's be clear about this." His voice hardened. Samantha met his gaze, sensing the weight behind his words.

"I hate your family. Especially your grandfather. Do you know why?"

She held his stare, silent. Of course, she knew. It was no secret that his family’s downfall—her grandfather’s hands all over it—led to his father’s death. The business her grandfather took? The ruin he left Drake’s family in? It wasn’t just some old tragedy—it was personal.

"You don’t need to tell me," she murmured. "None of that matters now. The past is the past. What’s important is the future. And besides—"

She linked her arm through his, a casual gesture, but the moment was anything but light.

Drake stiffened, his breath hitching as he stared down at her—surprise flickering in his eyes, then something sharper. Irritation?

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, his voice low.

Samantha’s smile deepened, unreadable. "Isn’t this what married couples do?"

"Oh, come on. What’s with the hesitation?" Samantha teased, her voice light, almost playful.

She wasn’t oblivious to the hostility simmering beneath Drake’s composed exterior. She just refused to let it dictate the mood of her evening. If she dwelled on his resentment, this whole arrangement would be unbearable.

"Don’t act like we’re close," Drake snapped, shrugging off her touch with a sharp movement. "Let’s not forget—I’m only doing this because I have no choice."

Samantha smirked, tilting her head. "Not used to your fiancée being this clingy?" Her voice took on a teasing lilt, but there was an underlying challenge there, just subtle enough to keep things interesting. "I bet your ex-fiancée was more—"

She froze mid-sentence.

Drake’s gaze darkened, his expression shifting so quickly it sent a chill down her spine.

"I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that," he said, his voice dangerously quiet, like a threat wrapped in restraint. "But if you ever bring up my past again, I won’t let it slide."

Samantha swallowed.

"You may be a conceited, spoiled brat living under the thumb of your wealthy grandfather, but that doesn’t give you the right to pry into my personal life. And let’s get one thing straight—my life is my own. That was part of the deal I made with your grandfather. No interference. No meddling. On paper, we’re married—just the way you and your dear grandfather wanted. But beyond that?" He scoffed. "I don’t care about your reasons. Just hold up your end of the bargain."

Samantha felt her jaw tighten, but she forced a smile, straightening her shoulders.

"You’re right," she admitted, keeping her voice deceptively light. "I am conceited. Probably a spoiled brat too. And I usually get what I want."

A beat passed. Then, without missing a step, she leaned in slightly, eyes unwavering.

"And just so you know—I intend to make you fall in love with me."

A slow, confident smile spread across her lips.

Drake exhaled sharply, shaking his head in disbelief. "That’s the last thing I’ll ever do."

With that, he turned and walked away.

Samantha remained standing there, watching his retreating figure, fingers curling into fists at her sides. He didn’t know how much nerve it had taken for her to say those words—to push back, to keep up this act. If only he knew.

But he didn’t.

To him, she was just a spoiled rich girl playing games.

"Are you okay?"

The voice was quiet but familiar, and when she turned, her grandfather’s assistant was standing beside her.

The moment she saw him, everything—every ounce of bravado—crumbled.

Without warning, tears welled in her eyes and spilled over, hot against her cheeks.

She had forced herself to hold her ground, to stand tall—but now, standing before someone who truly knew her, she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

"After all that tough talk, now you’re crying?" He sighed, stepping closer, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

"Just tell your grandfather you don’t want to go through with this," he murmured, voice gentler now. "Better to walk away than get hurt in the end."

Only a handful of people truly understood her situation—her personal doctor, and this man, her grandfather’s secretary and lawyer.

More than just employees, they were constants in her life. More than family, more than cousins—they were the ones she could trust.

***

“Lola, what’s this?" Samantha asked, eyeing the white envelope as her grandmother, Leanne, handed it to her.

They were at the reception of her wedding to Drake. The atmosphere was warm, filled with chatter and clinking glasses, but the moment felt oddly tense. Even Drake glanced at the envelope with mild curiosity, waiting for an explanation.

"A gift," Leanne said simply. "Even though I wasn’t thrilled about this marriage, I couldn’t let the occasion pass without giving you and your husband something."

She sighed, her sharp gaze flickering toward Leandro, who remained silent, watching but not interfering.

"I never expected the youngest of the family to be the first to tie the knot. But what can I do?"

"Thank you, but you didn’t have to go through the trouble," Samantha said politely, accepting the envelope.

As she opened it, her breath hitched. Her eyes darted up to her grandmother, who was smiling knowingly. Before she could say anything, Drake reached for the envelope, taking it from her hands without hesitation.

"I know you want to—"

"This isn’t necessary," Drake cut in abruptly, his tone cool, dismissive.

Samantha blinked, caught off guard. Her grandmother frowned.

"We have classes at university," he continued. "Something like this can wait."

"What are you talking about?" Samantha frowned. "This is a gift, Drake. From Lola. You could at least pretend to be grateful. And besides, I actually want to go—"

"If you have all the time in the world, then go alone." His words were sharp, but his expression remained unreadable as he looked at her.

Samantha bit her lip, frustration rising.

Leanne sighed, irritation creeping into her tone. "The travel date is open. You can go anytime you want. I have no ill intentions."

Samantha forced a smile, turning back to her grandmother.

"Thank you, Lola. I really do like the gift." Her voice was firm, sincere.

Her grandmother rarely gave her presents, and she wasn’t about to let Drake’s attitude ruin the moment. She also knew better than to expect him to be excited—after all, he hadn’t wanted this marriage in the first place.

But that didn’t mean she had to let his coldness dim her own happiness.