The BRIDE HE WASN'T MEANT TO WANT

CHAPTER 8. The Wedding Shock

Isabella sat stiffly on the edge of the velvet sofa, her coffee growing cold in her hands. Her head still throbbed from the previous night’s haze, and the memory of the party—the reckless laughter, the champagne, the strangers she had kissed—lingered like an echo she couldn’t shake.

Her father cleared his throat from the doorway, sharp and commanding. “Isabella, your mother and I need to discuss something important.”

Her stomach twisted. There was that tone again—the one that always meant business. “Yes, Father?” she asked cautiously.

Her mother stepped in behind him, arms crossed, lips pressed in a firm line. “We’ve arranged your marriage, Isabella.”

Isabella blinked. “Excuse me?”

Her father adjusted his cufflinks, looking every bit the polished man of authority. “You’re of age. It’s time for you to marry. We have chosen a suitable match for you—a man who will uphold the family’s name and position.”

“Oh…” Isabella murmured, trying to process. Suitable match… She hadn’t even considered marriage, much less with a man she didn’t know.

“You’ll meet him formally tomorrow,” her mother continued. “He’s distinguished, well-established, and exactly what we expect for a Mercer daughter-in-law.”

Her chest tightened. She tried to imagine some refined, serious man, perhaps someone boring, someone she would have to endure. Her voice came out almost a whisper. “And… his name?”

“Dominic Mercer,” her father said, perfectly calm.

Isabella froze. The name sounded vaguely familiar—not enough to trigger recognition, just ordinary enough in the world of the wealthy. She let it pass, convincing herself it was just coincidence.

Her mother’s eyes were sharp. “You will meet him tomorrow, and you are expected to comport yourself appropriately. Your family’s reputation is at stake.”

Isabella’s mind raced. Married? Tomorrow? To someone I don’t even know? The words sounded unreal, yet there was no room for debate.

“I… I don’t understand,” she stammered. “We haven’t even… I haven’t even met him. How am I supposed to—”

Her father cut her off, tone final. “This has been decided with your best interests in mind. You will meet him, and that will be the beginning of your engagement. End of discussion.”

A shiver ran down Isabella’s spine. It wasn’t fear, not entirely. It was the mix of shock, panic, and… curiosity. Her life, so carefully contained, suddenly felt like it had been spun into chaos overnight.

She gripped her mug tighter, forcing herself to take a steadying breath. “Fine,” she said, voice low, controlled, but trembling slightly. “I’ll meet him tomorrow.”

Her mother’s thin, satisfied smile was all she got. “Good. You will behave as expected.”

Isabella nodded, though inside, her mind was already racing. She had lived her life in obedience for too long—quiet, unseen, overshadowed by Annalise. But this… this was different. She didn’t know who this Dominic Mercer truly was, what he wanted, or how he would treat her—but the sudden uncertainty thrilled her in a way that made her pulse race.

Because for the first time, her life wasn’t entirely predictable, and that alone felt like a dangerous kind of freedom.

She took another sip of coffee, staring out the window at the city stretching endlessly beyond the mansion walls, and made herself a silent promise: no matter who this man was, she would not be the obedient, invisible daughter anymore. Not if she could help it.

Tomorrow, she would meet him. Tomorrow, everything could change.

And even though she didn’t know it yet, the night of reckless abandon with a stranger—the one she had thought would never come up again—was about to collide with the very future her family had chosen for her.