The Billionaire’s Bride-to-Be

Sandra's POV: The rays of sunlight hit my eyes as I stretched in my bed. There was a smile plastered on my face and I could already smell the cake. "Morning, sunshine," Mother said while adjusting the curtains for my room, blinding me. "It's time for your big day." I got out of bed and fished for my flip-flops, slipping my legs into it. I was newly twenty-four with a college degree from New York University, the only thing left in my life is the perfect partner. I had always waited for love to come seeking me. That way, I dodged a lot of hipster boys that wore their hair long with skinny jeans that made their thighs beg for freedom. I was enthusiastic in finding the right partner, and now that University was over, there would be a higher chance in getting that. I rinsed my mouth in the bathroom and dabbed it with my favorite, pink towel. Rearranging my bushy, blonde hair, I decided to give it a bun style. Perfect. I walked out of the bathroom to meet both my parents standing at the center of my room. They were in their sixties, but you could find love dripping in every sector of their marriage, that's why I was keen on love. They held their hands together and smiled at me. "Happy birthday, my sweetest daughter," Mother said. She brought a jewelry set and presented them to me. Inside, there was a sapphire earring and a big diamond ring. "Thank you, Mom." I kissed her cheek and Dad fought through for his own present. "For my dearest daughter, Sandra," he read like a poet, presenting me with a parcel. "You can open it whenever you want." I dragged them into a bear hug and snuggled in. They were all I have and they gave me all I could wish for. Since birth, my life had been like a Barbie doll and I didn't see that coming to an end. Or not. "For the last present," Father said, breaking up our embrace. My eyes traveled from Mother to Father, wondering what gift they'd come up with. Surprisingly, Mother's eyes were glassy, like she was about to cry. My smile froze, waiting for them to show me what they've come up with. Father dipped his hand into his suit pocket and dug out a card. "Happy birthday, my baby," he whispered. My heart race reduced because I thought there was trouble. I looked back at Mother and I saw she was shaking. She managed on with a smile, but I knew something was wrong somewhere. I tore open the letter that was decorated in a blue and red paper, sealed with a red seal. My hands were also shaking as I tried to open it and I pondered on how a birthday card could be as magnificent as this. I opened it and my eyes narrowed at the content. I read it over and over again in my heart, trying to fathom what I'd just seen. We welcome you to the joining of our children: Sandra Lupin and Daren Pattison. This holy matrimony takes place on the 15th of June. Color of the day: blue, red, and white. "What's going on here?" My voice became thick, confused at what I just saw. "Why is my name here and who the f**k is Daren Pattison?" "Language, my child," Father cooed. "Oh, the last thing to be bothered about here is language, father. Can someone please tell me what this is?" I was already losing my temper. Veins pulsed out of her head. "You need to be calm, sweetie." Mother stretched her hands to touch mine but I forcefully yanked it off. "Don't tell me to calm down." My vocal cords were strained at my yelling, so my words came out in a whisper, defeated. "We're on the verge of losing everything we own," Father said, facing a picture that we took at Buckingham Palace. I was six at that time, my brown eyes muddy as ever. Now, it was shaded like honey brown. "How?" "I don't know… bad investments, I think, but sooner or later, everything we own is going away. I took some loans to see if we could get back all we've lost, but the loans went away, too. The bank is after our house and they'll take it if I don't do anything." Looking at my father's face, I could see how drained he was. His eyes were downturned in defeat and his skin was pale. I still didn't understand where he was driving out. "Then how do I come in? How does this 'marriage' get in?" Mother was stroking my head, cradling me to be calm. It worked when I was younger, not any longer. Father cleared his throat. "Mr. and Mrs. Pattinson are my old time friends. They're a very influential family here in New York, and their son, Daren, is said to be one of the richest bachelors in the whole of America." "I still don't understand." "Marrying the both of you," Father answered, "is our way out of this ruin. Securing ties with them, especially marital ties, can set me back to business." "So all this is about money," I said in resignation. Father was silent; Mother was working her hands on my hair. "Why is it that all you care about is money? Why? You want to give me out to a man I barely know just to fill in your pockets? What about all we said about finding true love?" "I understand what you mean, Sandra. I do," Mother spoke finally above my head. "But you have to understand that we are in a dire situation." "Dire, you say?" I raised my head above her chest and looked her in the eyes. "We can choose not to go on with this. It's not like we don't have a choice." "At what cost?" Father asked. "We get to lose everything the Lulin family has worked for. Everything, Sandra." "But we have our lives, that's a plus. We can always figure things out, Dad." "This is the only way out," he replied, placing his hands behind his back. "You have to marry Daren Pattinson." "I won't, you selfish man! All you care about is money. Money. Money. Money. I won't be a part of this." "That's enough, Sandra. You'll do as I say, you will marry him." His words were concluded. There was no bargaining for me. "And what if I don't?" "You have no choice. You'll have to do it. You get dressed and there'll be a limousine waiting outside the house. You're to go on a date with your future husband to catch up on yourself. The wedding is close by." He opened the door and banged it, making me drop myself on the floor in resignation. Everything I'd dreamt about love was lost, and now, I was going to be married to a son of a b***h.