The Casanova's Bride

CHAPTER ONE THE CONTRACT Amara The last thing I expected after a three-hour lecture was a phone call from my father telling me to come home. Especially when he didn't sound like himself. I stared at my phone as his words replayed in my head. "Come home this weekend, Amara. We need to talk." No explanation. No warning. Nothing. I shoved my books into my bag and walked across campus, surrounded by students laughing and rushing to their next classes. My life was supposed to be simple. Finish varsity, graduate, find a job and finally build a life away from my family. At least, that's what I had planned. By Friday afternoon, I was standing outside my family home with my suitcase beside me. The moment I walked into the living room, I knew something was wrong. My father was sitting on the couch beside my mother. Neither of them looked at me. "What's going on?" I asked. My father gestured toward the chair opposite them. "Sit." I slowly sat down. He placed a thick black folder on the table. I looked at it. Then at him. "What's that?" "Your future." My eyebrows pulled together. "My future?" My mother finally looked at me, but there was something strange in her eyes. My father opened the folder. Inside was a contract. And underneath it was a photograph of a man I'd never seen before. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his expression cold and unreadable. "Who is he?" I whispered. "Alexander Devereaux." The name meant nothing to me. My father leaned back. "He's the heir to the Devereaux empire." I stared at him. "And?" My father was silent for a moment. Then he said the words that changed my entire life. "You're going to marry him." I actually laughed. Because surely this was some kind of joke. But nobody laughed with me. My smile disappeared. "You're serious?" My father's expression hardened. "Completely." I looked down at the contract again. My name was already printed across the bottom. And suddenly, I understood. They hadn't called me home to discuss my future. They had already decided it. Without me.