Bound by Vows

The rhythmic hum of my designing machine filled the small studio. It was a soothing melody to my chaotic thoughts. This was my sanctuary, the one place where everything felt under my control. Bills. Endless bills. Ethan’s hospital fees, overdue supplier invoices, the mortgage deposit, all piling up like an ever mounting pyramid. I glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:45 AM. The day was already slipping away, and I had barely made a dent in the design. A glass of lukewarm coffee sat untouched beside my sketches, the caffeine long forgotten. “Focus, Elena,” I murmured to myself. I worked on designing the hem of a pale blue evening gown, one of the few high-paying commissions that kept the design business afloat. The dress shimmered under the soft light, but all I could think about was how it wouldn’t cover even half of Ethan’s latest medical bill. Ethan. My chest tightened as his name echoed in my mind. My younger brother was only sixteen , and yet his life had been a series of hospital stays and treatments that seemed to do more harm than good. The sound of my phone vibrating on the counter snapped me out of my thoughts and I reached for it, my heart sinking when I saw the name flashing on the screen. Doctor FreyaI hesitated, staring at the phone as if it might explode. Finally, I swiped to answer as the phone began to ring again. “Miss Whitmore, this is a courtesy reminder that the payment for Ethan’s last procedure is overdue. We require the balance by the end of the month to avoid disruptions in his treatment.” “I understand,” I said, forcing my voice to remain calm. “I’m working on it.” The woman on the other end softened her tone. “I know it’s difficult, Miss Whitmore, but we need to receive at least a partial payment soon. Otherwise…” Otherwise, he’d lose his place on the treatment schedule. They didn’t need to say it, I knew how it worked. “I’ll take care of it,” I said quickly before hanging up. I set the phone down, my hands trembling as I returned to the dress. The once-brilliant fabric now looked dull, like the way the future did.By midday, I had delivered two dresses to clients and juggled calls from suppliers threatening to cut off deliveries if I didn’t pay the outstanding balance. My stomach growled, but there was no time for lunch. I stuffed some crackers into my bag before heading back to the office. The bell above the door jingled as I walked in. My assistant, Clara, looked up from the counter, her usually cheerful face clouded with concern. “Ma’am, you’ve got a visitor,” she said, gesturing toward the corner of the shop. I followed her gaze and froze. My mother stood there, clutching her handbag tightly, her expression grim. That wasn’t good.“Mom? What are you doing here?” I asked, setting my bag down before walking towards her.Her eyes darted around the shop, as if she didn’t want anyone overhearing. “We need to talk. It’s urgent.” “I’m kind of busy right now….” “Elena.” Her voice was firm, almost desperate. “Please, leys just go home.” The drive to the Whitmore estate was quiet, except for the occasional sigh from my mother. I hadn’t been back to the house in weeks, avoiding the memories of my father’s death and the looming sense of failure that hung over the family business. As we pulled into the driveway, the sight of the once-grand mansion made my heart ache. The faded blue paint and overgrown gardens mirrored the state of our lives, slowly crumbling under the weight of debt and losses. Inside, the house was quiet and I wondered what had happened to the domestic staff we had. Patrick, my older cousin and the self-appointed savior of the Whitmore legacy, sat at the head of the dining table. Two of my uncles I vaguely recognized flanked him, their suits sharp but their faces weary. “Elena, thank you for coming,” Patrick said, his tone, firm and professional. “What’s going on?” I asked, glancing between them. Was my mother sick?What was going on?Patrick exchanged a look with my mother before clearing his throat. “I’ll go straight to the point, Elena, We’re out of time. The company is bankrupt.” The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Bankrupt?” “We’ve exhausted all options,” Patrick said, his voice devoid of emotion. “No loans, no investors, nothing. If we don’t act now, we’ll lose everything.” “There has to be another way,” I said, my voice rising. “Ethan….”“There is,” my mother interjected softly. “But it’s… baby, it’s the only way.” I turned to her, dread creeping into my stomach. The way she had said it, it couldn’t be good. “What do you mean?” She hesitated, her hands trembling as she clutched her bag. “Blackwood Enterprises has offered us a merger. But there’s a condition.” “Blackwood?” The name sent a shiver down my spine. I know the Blackwood family, Damian Blackwood, the infamous CEO, was a name that came up in every business headline, ruthless, calculating, and terrifyingly powerful. I had met him once, a long time ago during a corporate gala and let’s just say…he wasn’t the kind of man you’d want to cross paths with.“Yes,” Patrick said. “Damian has agreed to save Whitmore Designs. But he wants to marry you as part of the deal.” For a moment, I thought I’d misheard. “Excuse me?” “It’s a strategic alliance,” Patrick explained, as if that made it less horrifying. “It’s not uncommon in high-stake mergers.” “You’re asking me to marry a stranger to save the company?” I asked, my voice trembling. Damian wasn’t just a stranger, he was the worst of them, from what I had seen at the gala, he was a cold hearted man.“We’re not asking,” Patrick said coldly. “We’re telling you it’s the only way.” “Elena,” my mother said before I could speak, her voice breaking. “Please. Ethan’s treatments… Damian has promised to cover everything if we agree.” Ethan. His name hit me like a dagger to the chest. They were using him as leverage, and they knew it would work. I stared at them, my world crumbling right in front of me.Ethan…There had to be a way, something… This wasn’t the way I wanted to get married. I wanted it to be with someone I loved, someone kind, caring, someone that wasn’t the heartless monster, Damien.“No! I won’t marry him,” I said as I stood up, grabbed my bag and stormed out of the room.