Chapter 3
836 Words
The man from the Lockwood family did not stay long.
He handed over a thick folder, exchanged a few words with Celeste's parents, and left.
Yet his brief visit changed everything.
The moment the front door closed, her mother reached eagerly for the documents.
Her hands trembled.
Not from fear.
From excitement.
Celeste watched in disbelief.
The woman who should have been fighting for her looked happier than she had in months.
Her father carefully examined the papers.
A smile slowly appeared on his face.
It was small.
Relieved.
Grateful.
The sight hurt more than Celeste expected.
To them, the nightmare was ending.
To her, it was only beginning.
"What exactly did they promise you?"
Neither parent answered.
Celeste laughed bitterly.
"Still hiding things from me?"
Her mother finally looked up.
"The debt will be gone."
The words hung in the air.
"That's it?" Celeste asked.
"That's not enough?"
"No."
Her voice rose.
"No, it isn't enough."
She stepped closer.
"You traded your daughter for money."
"Watch your tone."
Celeste stared at her mother.
For years she had obeyed.
For years she had swallowed her hurt.
Not anymore.
"My tone is the least of our problems."
Her father stood.
"Celeste."
"No."
She shook her head.
"You don't get to say my name like you're the victim."
Silence filled the room.
Tears burned behind her eyes.
She hated crying.
Especially in front of people who didn't deserve her tears.
But the pain refused to stay hidden.
"When did I become so worthless to you?"
Her father visibly flinched.
Her mother looked away.
Neither answered.
That was answer enough.
The realization settled heavily inside her chest.
They couldn't defend what they had done.
Because they knew it was wrong.
They had simply decided it was necessary.
And somehow that made it worse.
Celeste looked around the house she had grown up in.
The family photographs.
The memories.
The birthdays.
The holidays.
Everything suddenly felt fake.
Had they ever loved her?
Or had she always just been another responsibility waiting to become useful?
"I won't do it."
Her voice was calm this time.
Dangerously calm.
"I refuse."
Both parents stiffened.
Her mother's expression darkened.
"You don't have a choice."
Something inside Celeste snapped.
"I always have a choice."
Her mother slammed a hand onto the table.
The loud sound echoed through the room.
"No, you don't."
The sudden anger shocked everyone.
Even her father.
Her mother's breathing became uneven.
"You think I wanted this?"
Celeste stared.
"I think you chose it."
For a moment, genuine guilt flashed across her mother's face.
Then it disappeared.
Replaced by frustration.
"Do you know what we've been through these past months?"
"I know enough."
"No, you don't."
Her mother's voice cracked.
"The banks were ready to take everything."
Her father closed his eyes.
"The company was collapsing."
"We were desperate."
Celeste listened quietly.
For the first time, she heard genuine fear in their voices.
Not greed.
Fear.
Real fear.
But it changed nothing.
Because desperation explained their decision.
It didn't justify it.
"You should have told me."
Neither argued.
"You should have trusted me."
Still silence.
"You should have chosen me."
Her voice finally broke.
The room became painfully quiet.
Her father looked older than she had ever seen him.
Her mother suddenly seemed exhausted.
For a brief moment, they looked like ordinary people drowning in impossible circumstances.
But then Celeste remembered something.
Drowning people didn't get to pull others under with them.
Especially not their own daughter.
She grabbed her purse from the chair.
Her father immediately frowned.
"Where are you going?"
"Away."
"Celeste—"
"I need air."
Her mother stood.
"Running won't solve anything."
Celeste paused near the door.
A hollow smile appeared on her face.
"No."
She looked directly at them.
"But neither will selling your child."
The words landed harder than any scream.
Her mother's face turned pale.
Her father lowered his head.
For the first time that evening, neither of them had a response.
Celeste opened the door.
Cold air immediately greeted her.
The sky was gray.
Heavy clouds stretched across the horizon.
Perfect weather for a broken heart.
She stepped outside and walked down the driveway.
Each step felt strangely light.
As though she were leaving something behind.
Not the house.
Not the marriage.
The illusion.
The illusion that her family would always choose her.
Halfway down the street, her phone vibrated.
A new message.
Unknown number.
Her pulse quickened.
She opened it.
The message was short.
Tomorrow. 10:00 AM. Lockwood Tower. Mr. Lockwood wishes to meet you before the wedding arrangements proceed.
Celeste stared at the screen.
Her stomach tightened.
For days, this marriage had felt like a nightmare created by other people.
Now it suddenly felt real.
Tomorrow she would meet the man everyone feared.
The billionaire who had agreed to marry her.
The billionaire who had paid for her future.
And for the first time, Celeste wondered which was more frightening.
The family that betrayed her.
Or the stranger waiting for her tomorrow.
- Writer
