chained by destiny

chapter2

MORNING OF REGRETS

10:00 AM _ THE BROOKS HOTEL

Cathryn awoke to the sharp, insistent beeping of her phone. Every muscle in her body ached, as though she'd been fighting a battle in her sleep. With a groggy sigh, she opened her eyes, only to be struck by a wave of cold dread.

She was naked in bed with a strange man whom she barely knew.

A scream built in her chest, but fear silenced it. Her heart hammered violently as panic set in. Who was he? How had this happened?

She took a quick glance at the man who was still fast asleep, face covered in the white plush blanket which also covered her.

The events of the previous night were a blur of fragmented images and sensations flashing through her mind, but nothing clear enough to make sense of that.

Swallowing her panic, Cathryn gingerly slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb him. Her movements were quick, almost frantic, as she gathered her clothes scattered across the floor. She wore them as fast as she could and bolted out of the hotel room.

Out on the street, the cool morning air hit her like a slap, but she barely noticed. She had to walk a few meters from the hotel, ignoring the pain she felt in her groins before she pulled up a taxi to drive her home.

After a ten-minute drive that seemed like an hour drive, Cathryn could see her house from a distance.

The memories that had tormented her in the last three weeks suddenly came upon her like a mighty rushing wind. Getting married to a fifty-five-year-old man she barely knows in other to save her father’s company from failing.

She wanted to run away, but to where?? She thought silently.

She walked through the large door. The house was quiet, the only sound heard was the faint clinking of silverware as Eleanor James, her stepmother, poised and graceful as always, enjoyed her breakfast alone in the dining room.

Her father, Mr James, was sitting in the parlor, a dark suit crisply pressed, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that made her heart sink. Beside him, on a side table, was a stack of papers that she recognized all too well.

She greeted them both and tried to hurriedly make her way upstairs but was immediately stopped by her father’s voice.

"Cathryn,” he called out sharply, his voice cutting through the fog in her mind.

She paused, turning slowly to face him. “Good morning, Father,” she mumbled, her voice thick with exhaustion.

“Where have you been?” he demanded, his tone cold and unforgiving.

“Went out to see Mia early this morning ,” she lied, unwilling to provide details that she herself couldn’t fully remember.

Mr. James’ eyes narrowed further, but he chose not to press the issue. “Cathryn,” his voice cut through the air, cold and demanding,

“I assume you know what today is?”

He picked up the documents with a sharp flick of his wrist and stepped toward her, holding them out. “You’re signing the contract today, Cathryn. This is not up for discussion. San Antonio is coming into town next week, and this marriage needs to be finalized.”

Cathryn took a deep breath, already knowing what the documents were. The contract marriage with San Antonio—a business deal disguised as matrimony.

“I’m sorry dad, but I cannot. I don’t think I could bring myself to love someone almost the same age as you, I would rather be homeless.”

Mr. James’s face darkened, his voice hardening. “This isn’t about love, Cathryn. It’s about family about our legacy. Antonio’s connections are vital to securing the future of this company, and you _ he stepped closer, jabbing the stack of papers toward her chest—“you will do your duty as a James.”

“I will never marry San Antonio!!!” Cathryn responded, her voice strong and resilient.

The room fell deathly silent afterward, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Mr. James simply stared at her, his breath coming in harshly, he tried to speak but could only gasp. Without warning, he clutched his chest, his face contorting in pain.

“Dad!” Cathryn cried out, rushing forward as he staggered, his legs giving out beneath him. He collapsed to the floor, his hand still pressed to his chest, his breathing shallow and labored. He had a heart attack.

Eleanor, who had heard the commotion from the dining room, dropped her fork with a clatter and ran to the study. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw her husband lying on the floor, gasping for breath.

“What have you done cathryn???”,

James!” she screamed, kneeling beside him. “Call for help!” she ordered, her voice trembling as she reached for his hand, her own fingers shaking.

Cathryn knelt beside her father, her heart pounding wildly. “Dad, stay with me,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she gripped his arm. Her anger dissolved in an instant, replaced with fear and guilt. She had pushed him too far.

The staff came running, and her mother, now on the phone, was barking instructions, her usual calm demeanor shattered. “Yes, an ambulance! Now!” she cried, her eyes wide with fear.

Soon the paramedics were there.

The wail of sirens broke the suffocating silence, and within moments, the paramedics burst into the house, efficiently taking over the situation. As they loaded Mr. James onto a stretcher, Eleanor turned to her daughter, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and accusation.

Cathryn stood frozen, as she watched her father being wheeled away and her stepmother following close behind with tears streaming down her cheek.

“What have I done!?” She asked silently. Wishing the ground would just open up and swallow her completely.

Now she felt the weight of her choices heavier than ever before. She had fought so hard to reclaim control of her life, but in the process, she is about to lose the one person she never thought could falter.