Forbidden Attraction

**Kayla's P.O.V** I stood defiantly in front of Andrew, arms crossed tightly over my chest. “I want a divorce, Andrew. I’ve had enough of your nonsense.” The words felt like a small flicker of strength in a dimly lit room. He lounged casually on the sleek, mirror table, his long legs crossed and a glass of deep crimson wine cradled in one hand. A mocking smirk played on his lips, a cruel twist of his mouth that sent a shiver down my spine. “So soon, believe me when I say I don’t want you here either, and I wish I could grant your request for a divorce.” I blinked, my brows knitting together in disbelief as his words sunk in. “What did you just say?” My heart raced as confusion washed over me. He adjusted his position, leaning slightly forward with a self-satisfied glint in his eyes. “We both know your greedy father initiated this marriage just to skim off my family’s wealth. Last time I checked, you were practically sold to this family. You have nowhere to go.” His words cut deep, a cold, sharp truth that stung more than I wanted to admit. My father’s contempt for me, because I was born a woman loomed over me. Since my mother’s death, I had felt like a caged bird, trapped in a gilded cage of my father's making. “How dare you say that?” I shot back, summoning the last reserves of my courage. “I do have a place to go.” He let out a bitter laugh, the sound echoing in the lavish room. “Oh really? Come on, Kayla. We both know you don’t have any friends. I’d advise you to just accept your fate, darling.” His gaze pierced through me, the scorn reflected in his eyes eating at my resolve. Andrew stood up, adjusting his perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his muscular frame, and faced the mirror as if he were admiring himself. “Get ready, Kayla. My family is waiting.” “I told you, I want a divorce,” I reiterated, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation before I bolted towards the door. His footsteps thundered behind me, the sound of his long strides quickening as he chased me down. “Get back here this instant!” he growled, his tone a commanding thunder that made my heart race. I didn’t look back, pushing myself into a sprint. As I descended the staircase, I kicked off my heels, the sharp clacks replaced by the soft thudding of my bare feet against the cold floor. Just as I burst through the front door, a powerful grip seized my arm, ripping me back into reality. “Let me go now, Michael!” I screamed, shooting a furious glare at Andrew’s towering bodyguard. Michael remained silent, his expression stoic, waiting for Andrew to catch up. With a swift motion, Andrew yanked me out of Michael's grasp, his fingers digging into my chin as he forced me to look up at him. “Having you in my life is already a torture. Don’t make it harder for me, or I will have to take drastic measures.” “Ptui!” I spat on his newly tailored suit, a small act of rebellion “Let go of me!” In response, he struck me across the cheek with a swift and resounding slap that sent me sprawling to the ground. The sting blossomed like fire across my skin, leaving me breathless. “How dare you?” he thundered. I lay there, the ground rough beneath me, cradling my burning cheek with trembling fingers while strands of hair fell over my face like a curtain. “You’re a beast. I hate you.” He stripped off his tailored suit, tossing it to Michael with a careless flick. Leaning over me, he gripped my hair, yanking it back to force me to meet his piercing gaze. “Nobody wants you, not even your own father,” he sneered, “So show some gratitude to my family for taking you in.” I fought against his grasp, shaking my head wildly, my breath coming in heavy, accompanied by labored sobs “Open the car,” he commanded, his tone firm. In an instant, he lifted me and threw me over his shoulder, tossing me effortlessly into the car like a rag doll before sliding into the seat beside me. **Andrew’s P.O.V** Fury simmered within me as we sped toward my parents’ mansion, my mind racing as I struggled to contain my anger. “How could I have been so reckless?” I berated myself, the weight of my mistake pressing heavily on my chest. It's been two months into our marriage and I feel like I've been caged for years already. I hated the bond we shared, and I wished I could undo my mistake. Every family in Danville coveted a connection with mine, drawn by the allure of our wealth—including Kayla's father. Knowing he couldn’t match our status, he hatched a sinister plot, blackmailing me with the threat of revealing my darkest secret unless I married his daughter. I glanced at her, taking in the way she delicately combed her hair back with trembling fingers. At times, a flicker of pity stirred within me, but more often than that, that pity wilted under the heat of my disdain for her father. She was undeniably beautiful, yet not the kind of woman I envisioned for myself. Besides, I was already entangled in a fierce rivalry with my step-sister, a battle that felt overwhelming enough on its own. My intention had always been to claim my father’s company before even considering settling down with anyone. But Kayla and her father had spiraled everything into chaos, besides I had a girlfriend I loved dearly. As we approached my parents' opulent mansion, a familiar tide of anxiety surged through me, making my heart race like a runaway train. The gravity of my strained relationship with my father weighed heavily on my chest, a tension that had only intensified thanks to Kayla and her father’s meddling. Today, my brothers and I were summoned to discuss the future of our family company, and of course, our wives would accompany us. But the real source of my dread was the thought of Jade, my spiteful stepsister. The mere idea of her presence was like a pebble in my shoe, a persistent pain in the neck that made me wish my father had chosen a different path—one that didn't lead to her existence. Taking a deep breath and summoning my resolve, I glanced at Kayla, who sat beside me, her eyes flashing with anticipation. “One mishap from you, and you’ll regret it,” I warned her, my voice low and steely. She responded with a fierce glare, crossing her arms defensively over her chest, a clear challenge in her stance. Ignoring her defiance, I stepped out of the car, the cool air brushing against my skin. Kayla followed suit; together, we approached the mansion, our arms linked tightly. We donned expressions of feigned happiness, plastered smiles that barely concealed the turmoil beneath the surface as we walked into the dazzling but daunting world of family expectations.