Married To A Billionaire

“Claire, you’re married now.” The words hit me like a slap across the face. I stared at my mother in disbelief, certain I had misheard. “I’m… what?” “You heard me,” Mom said, her voice calm, as though this was a normal conversation. “What do you mean I’m married? To whom? When?!” My voice rose with each question. “To Nathan Shaw,” my father cut in, his tone firm. “The CEO of CDI Tech. It’s all arranged. He’s a wealthy, successful man, and he’s on his way to pick you up.” My legs felt like jelly, and I sank into the nearest chair. “This is insane! You married me off without even telling me? What kind of parents do this to their child?” “Watch your tone,” Dad snapped, his eyes narrowing. “We’ve done what’s best for you. Nathan is a good man. You’ll be well taken care of.” “I don’t care if he’s a saint!” I shouted, tears stinging my eyes. “This is my life! How could you make this decision without me?” “Enough, Claire,” Dad barked, slamming his hand on the table. “Go upstairs, pack your things, and get ready. You’re leaving with him today.” “I’m not going anywhere!” I screamed, my voice shaking. “You can’t force me to do this!” “You will do as you’re told!” Dad’s voice thundered, making me flinch. “This is not up for debate.” I looked at Mom, hoping she’d defend me, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. Instead, she said softly, “Claire, please. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Harder? I felt like my entire world was crumbling, and they wanted me to calmly pack my bags? “No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “No, this isn’t happening.” “Go to your room, Claire,” Dad ordered. “Now.” Tears rolled down my cheeks as I stumbled upstairs. Every step felt heavy, like I was walking to my own execution. I threw open my closet, yanking clothes off their hangers and tossing them onto my bed. My hands trembled as I stuffed them into a suitcase. “This isn’t fair,” I mumbled to myself, my voice breaking. “This isn’t fair.” When I was done, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the packed suitcase. Maybe if I refused to leave, Nathan would change his mind. Maybe he wouldn’t want a wife who didn’t want him. But before I could entertain the thought, my mom called from downstairs. “Claire! He’s here. Bring your bags.” I froze. “He’s… here?” “Yes! Don’t keep him waiting!” My heart pounded as I grabbed my suitcase and made my way downstairs. Mom and Dad were standing by the door, looking calm and satisfied, as if they’d just wrapped up a successful business deal. At the gate, a sleek black car was parked, its engine humming softly. The driver’s side door opened, and a tall man stepped out. I wiped my tears quickly, trying to get a good look at him. He wore a sharp black suit, and his dark hair was neatly styled. His face was sharp and chiseled, but his expression was unreadable. He didn’t look at me. His cold, detached gaze stayed focused on the road as he opened the passenger door. “Get in,” he said flatly. His voice was deep and icy, sending a chill down my spine. I hesitated, clutching my suitcase tightly. “You’re Nathan?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling. He didn’t answer. He simply stood there, waiting. “Claire, get in the car,” Dad said sharply behind me. I bit my lip, my heart hammering in my chest. With no other choice, I walked toward the car and slid into the passenger seat. Nathan shut the door behind me and got into the driver’s seat without a word. As we pulled out of the driveway, I glanced back at my parents. They stood at the gate, watching us leave. I wanted to scream at them, beg them to stop this madness, but it was too late. The car ride was silent. I kept sneaking glances at Nathan, but he never looked my way. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “So,” I finally said, breaking the silence. “You’re Nathan Shaw?” “Don’t talk,” he replied curtly, his tone colder than before. I blinked, stunned by his rudeness. “Excuse me?” “I don’t want to have this conversation right now,” he said without looking at me. “Just sit there and stay quiet.” I clenched my fists, biting back a retort. My tears threatened to spill again, but I refused to let him see me cry. After what felt like an eternity, we arrived at a towering penthouse building. Nathan parked the car in the underground garage and got out without a word. I hesitated, unsure if I was supposed to follow him. When he glanced back at me impatiently, I scrambled out of the car, dragging my suitcase behind me. He led me into the building and up a private elevator. The ride was suffocatingly silent. I could feel his cold presence next to me, but he might as well have been a statue. When the elevator doors opened, I followed him into the penthouse. It was massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city skyline. Everything was sleek and modern, but it felt just as cold as Nathan. He stopped abruptly and turned to face me. “That’s your room,” he said, pointing to a door down the hall. “You’ll stay there. And one more thing—don’t invade my privacy. I don’t tolerate it.” I stared at him, my mouth slightly open. “Privacy? What does that even mean? We’re married.” His eyes narrowed, his gaze cutting through me like a blade. “It means stay out of my way. Don’t ask questions, and don’t touch my things. Understand?” I swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “Good,” he said, turning his back on me. “Dinner is at seven. If you’re late, you’ll go hungry.” And with that, he disappeared into another room, leaving me standing there, clutching my suitcase and wondering what kind of nightmare I’d just walked into.