My Happy Marriage

Chapter 1 — The Marriage They Never Asked For Amelia Hart stood before the tall glass doors of Blackwell Holdings, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her small handbag. The building towered into the sky like a monument—cold, shiny, impossible. Just like the man she was supposed to marry. Christopher Blackwell. The youngest CEO in the city, feared in boardrooms, admired by investors, and whispered about by women who had only seen him from afar. Amelia had seen him only twice before the engagement… both times, he hadn’t looked at her for more than three seconds. But today was the final meeting before their forced marriage—a deal between the Hart family and the Blackwells, sealed long before Amelia even understood what corporate alliances meant. She took a deep breath and stepped inside. The elevator doors opened to the top floor, revealing a lobby designed like a luxury hotel. Everything smelled like cedarwood and money. A tall woman with sharp red lipstick glared at her from behind the reception desk. “Name?” the woman demanded. “Amelia Hart. I—I’m here to see Mr. Blackwell.” The woman’s eyes scanned her outfit—a soft cream dress, simple heels, nothing flashy. Her mouth twisted. “He’s in a meeting. Sit.” Amelia sat. Workers passed by, whispering. She wasn’t sure if they knew she’d soon be their CEO’s wife or if they just sensed she didn’t belong here. After twenty minutes, the door to the boardroom swung open. Laughter spilled out—deep, masculine, confident. Chris stepped out surrounded by executives. He wore a black suit tailored like it was carved onto him. His face was unreadable, jaw sharp, eyes colder than winter storms. When his gaze fell on Amelia… he froze for a moment. Just a moment. Then his mask returned. “Miss Hart,” he said, voice cool. “My office.” She hurried after him. His office was enormous, with a view of the whole city. Once the door closed, he rested one hand in his pocket and looked at her. “You’re late.” “I—The receptionist didn’t—” “It doesn’t matter,” he cut in. “Our families expect us to finalize the schedule for the ceremony.” Amelia nodded, even though her throat felt tight. “Chris… do you—do you really want this marriage?” His expression didn’t move. Not even a blink. “What I want doesn’t matter,” he replied quietly. “What’s required of me does.” A sting hit her chest. Before she could respond, the office door burst open. “Chrissyyy!” Amelia turned to see a woman around their age—curvy, heavily dressed, and beaming with confidence. Her name was Bianca, Chris’s cousin. And the moment her eyes landed on Amelia, her smile faded. “Oh. Her.” Chris’s jaw tightened. “Bianca, knock next time.” “I just came to remind you about the charity gala. You know, the one you’re definitely attending with me?” Bianca said sweetly, grabbing Chris’s arm. He pulled his arm away gently but firmly. “I’m attending with my fiancée.” He nodded toward Amelia. Bianca’s eye twitched. “She won’t last,” Bianca muttered under her breath—but loud enough. Chris shot her a warning glare. Bianca flipped her hair and walked out, slamming the door. Amelia swallowed. Chris sighed. “Ignore her. She thinks the world revolves around her.” “Does she… like you?” Amelia asked. He paused. “A foolish obsession,” he answered. “Nothing more.” Something softened in his tone—barely. But Amelia noticed. For a second, she could have sworn he looked at her with something warmer than cold duty. But he turned away. “Let’s continue. We don’t have much time.” And just like that, the moment vanished. Yet Amelia felt it. A tiny spark. A hint that maybe… just maybe… the cold CEO wasn’t as frozen as he wanted the world to believe.