Married To My Enemy

“This marriage will happen. Stop fussing and get ready,” Thomas Calder said, his voice hard as steel. “I won’t!” Evelyn snapped, her hands trembling as she stood in the center of the room. “I’ll leave this house. I’ll leave the country. I won’t do this!” Her father’s gaze did not waver. “If you run away, you are dead to this family. You won’t see your mother ever again.” Evelyn’s knees felt weak. The walls seemed to close in as the words sank deep into her chest. Hope—if it had ever existed—vanished entirely. Every argument she had fought, every plea she had made, every word she had spoken in desperation… it had been meaningless. Her parents’ eyes were fixed not on her, but on the marriage alliance with the Ashfords, the prestige, the power, the wealth it would bring. She could barely breathe. How could she live with people who had already destroyed her life? Who had stolen her dreams, her career, her reputation? She had been top of her class since day one. Professors had praised her, her peers had respected her, and she had a future carefully carved for herself. But Isabella Ashford—her classmate, a girl struggling in every semester—had always sweet-talked her, asked for help, and Evelyn had always given it. She had believed in helping others, in generosity, in trust. And then came the betrayal. Her final semester of biomedical engineering had been grueling. She had poured herself into her research thesis, days and nights spent in labs, carefully analyzing data, running experiments, perfecting every detail. She had sacrificed sleep, meals, and everything for the one thing that could define her future. Then, the unthinkable. She saw the results. Failed. Impossible. She double-checked her files, her timestamps, her submission drafts. This must be a mistake. It had to be. But no. There it was: the exact same thesis, submitted before her, word for word, figure for figure—even the tiniest detail copied perfectly. Submitted by Isabella Ashford. Evelyn’s heart sank. Her voice shook when she demanded justice. She fought tooth and nail to prove the research was hers, to show the logs, the drafts, the lab notebooks. Teachers and supervisors knew how talented she was—how brilliant. They knew Isabella had struggled every semester. Surely, the truth would come out. But before the investigation could even begin, Silas Ashford intervened. His influence was enough to stop everything. And just like that, the conclusion was drawn: Evelyn had stolen the research. The news hit her like a physical blow. The biggest, most prestigious company in the country—the one she had worked for since securing top grades, the company where every top graduate dreamed of working—withdrew her offer. Her dream job, the culmination of years of effort, was gone. Her reputation was shattered. She was branded a thief. No one would trust her again. Evelyn had to repeat the semester. Isabella, meanwhile, was celebrated for the research she had not done, and her work was published, her name in lights for something that should have been Evelyn’s. Anger coiled inside Evelyn like a living thing. She hated Silas to her very core. If only he hadn’t intervened, if only he hadn’t used his power to shield his sister, the investigation would have cleared her name. But no. The Ashfords were too powerful, their influence too vast. They had crushed her in one decisive strike. Now, a year later, she was expected to marry Silas—the man who had watched her life crumble and done nothing. She was to live under the same roof as the people who had stolen everything she had worked for. Evelyn was dressed in white. The gown clung to her flawless figure, the veil trailing behind her like a river of silk. She had the beauty, the brains, the wealth, and the family standing that everyone envied. And yet, she felt hollow, trapped, defeated. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was perfect, accentuating the natural beauty she had been born with. A diamond tiara, a family heirloom gifted by the Ashfords, sparkled on her head. But it brought no pride. She looked pitiful. Not a trace of happiness lingered in her eyes. She held her father’s hand—Thomas Calder, who had never seen her as more than an investment—and walked into the hall. Everyone around her looked joyful, celebrating the union, but Isabella sat nearby, tense and anxious, as if she feared the truth might yet come out. At the altar, Silas stood tall and expressionless, performing his duty with cold precision. Evelyn’s hatred for him, for the man who had ensured her downfall, simmered hotter than ever. The hall glittered with light, laughter, and whispers of congratulations. The Ashfords looked triumphant. Her mother glowed with pride at the “perfect” match. And Evelyn… Evelyn felt nothing. The world around her blurred into colors and sounds she could not join. All that remained was the sharp, burning certainty of her hatred—for Isabella, for Silas, and for the family that had forced her into this life. Evelyn arrived at the Ashford mansion just before dusk. The lights along the driveway glowed like a runway guiding her into a life she had never chosen.