TRACKING HER( SHE IRRITATES ME)

Chapter 1

Aurora pov

It’s not what it appears to be, but being proposed to by a cold, unyielding man who takes ages to smile feels like a nightmare. My father's choice is completely irrational.

I looked over at my father, who was in the bar cellar, panting as if the marriage was meant to be settled the moment I heard the news.

“Aurora has no option but to wed the man I’ve chosen for her. It’s better to accept this than to argue endlessly without any outcome, do you understand?” he said, glaring at me with eyes full of anger. I couldn’t hold his gaze, my eyes glued to the floor, feeling anxious because I know what my father is capable of.

I’m angry, yes, but it’s the utter disregard for my home and my brand-new sofa that truly disturbs me, not the betrayal.

“Father, he’s not the kind of man who knows how to win a woman’s heart. I can’t marry him,” I stuttered, nervously twisting my fingers.

I stood there, my legs trembling, feeling the weight of my father's words pressing down on me like a dense fog. His hand pointed at me with an authority that made me feel like I was merely a responsibility to be passed on.

“You will marry him, Aurora,” my father growled, his voice a low, menacing whisper that sent shivers through me. “And you will not complicate this any further. Do you understand?”

My heart raced, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze. I had been warned, and I knew the dangers of provoking him. The memory of his unpredictable fury lingered, a constant, bitter reminder. His cold, unyielding stare seemed to dare me to defy him again.

"I-I don’t want to marry him." The words slipped out, weak and ineffective. I immediately regretted my outburst.

Father's lips curled into a scowl, his irritation evident as he closed the distance between us. "What part of this is unclear? This isn’t open for debate. This is your life, Aurora. You’ll either embrace it, or you’ll live to regret it.”

The tension in the room intensified. I felt trapped, as if the air was closing in on me. My thoughts went blank.

Anderson Cooper. The name felt unsettling. It was cold and distant. I knew of him—he was a familiar figure in the media landscape. A powerful businessman recognized for his wealth, influence, and ruthless demeanor. People spoke of him as if he were untouchable. And now, my father had decided he would be my husband.

I had heard whispers about him. Stories of a heart hardened by betrayal, a man who seemed emotionally detached, keeping everyone at a distance. This was the man my father expected me to spend my life with.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling as I clasped my hands together, fighting back tears. "He’s... he’s not like me, Father. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want anyone."

My father's face turned stern, and I caught a flicker of something in his eyes. It wasn’t compassion; it was disdain. As if my fears were trivial, not worthy of his concern.

"He will want you," he retorted sharply. "You have no right to question this. You have no right to make any choices.”

I was overwhelmed by the need to scream, to assert that I had my own dreams and aspirations. But the words were trapped in my throat, suffocating me, as I faced the bitter truth. I had no power here. To my father, I was just a pawn.

“I can’t make you understand, Aurora,” my father said with a deep sigh, rubbing his face in frustration. “This isn’t about love. It’s about survival and maintaining our family’s reputation. You’ll accept it eventually.”

I shook my head, fighting against the tightness in my throat. Survival? Was that really how he saw me? Just a tool for his ambitions? A pawn to be sacrificed for his plans?

I was not a tool. I was his daughter. Or at least, I thought I was.

Before I could reply, my father’s voice cut through the tension, firm and unwavering. "The deal is done, Aurora. You will marry him. It’s happening tomorrow."

My breath caught in my throat. Tomorrow?

My legs felt weak, and I stumbled, gripping the table for support. “You can’t—”

“I can,” he interrupted coldly. “And I already have.”

For a brief moment, my heart stopped. This was more than just a wedding; it was about me being traded. I was collateral in a power struggle beyond my control.

Collateral—

My thoughts spun wildly. The realization hit me so hard that it almost took my breath away. I was merely a pawn in my father's scheme. Just an item. A bargaining tool to be traded for the best deal.

I felt an urge to scream, to run, to escape. But where could I possibly go? Who would even care?

My legs gave way, and I sank to the floor, my face buried in my hands as the overwhelming burden of it all pressed down on me. The room swirled around me. My father’s icy, emotionless gaze felt like a mark, lacking any anger—only indifference and disappointment.

He showed no regard for my feelings or dreams. His attention was entirely on his own ambitions. To him, I was just a means to an end.

“Father, please.” My voice quivered, barely audible, but I had to speak up. “Why are you doing this to me?”

He looked at me with a vacant expression. "Because, Aurora... there’s no alternative. We can’t risk making enemies with people like him. This marriage isn’t about you. It’s for the family. If you don’t understand that soon, you’ll never grasp how the world works.”

The world had completely engulfed me, and I felt myself sinking deeper.

I closed my eyes, letting tears stream down my face, overwhelmed by feelings of insignificance, helplessness, and profound loneliness.

A deep sense of dread settled within me. Anderson Cooper wasn’t just going to be my husband; he was going to be my captor. There was no way out.

The deal was sealed.

Just then, the door swung open, and a tall, broad-shouldered man walked in, his eyes locked on my father. He didn’t look like Anderson, and his face was unfamiliar to me.

“Is she ready?” the man inquired, and my father nodded while sipping his drink, treating me like I was worthless. Was I ready? Did he view me as nothing more than an object? And my father was okay with that?

“I’m not!” I yelled, but it was pointless. In my father’s eyes, I had no voice; he was the one in control. A sudden thought hit me, and I jumped to my feet, trying to escape when a sharp pain pierced my head. Before I could react, a bag was thrown over me. I understood then: I had no choice; I was merely a pawn.