"Bought as His Bride"

💥 Episode 1: The Price of My Freedom > “You’ll marry him, Amara. It’s already been agreed.” I blinked, not sure I heard my father right. We were sitting in the living room, but the walls felt like they were closing in on me. > “What?” My voice cracked. “Dad, what did you just say?” He wouldn’t look at me. His eyes stayed on the floor, his hands shaking around the chipped teacup he always drank from. The silence between us stretched until my heart began to pound. > “Mr. Darius Black is clearing my debt in exchange for your hand in marriage,” he said finally. “You’re to be married in two days.” Two. Days. It felt like someone had punched the air out of my chest. My legs refused to move. My lips parted, but no words came out. > “You sold me,” I whispered. > “I had no choice,” he replied, tears in his eyes. “We owe him ₦80 million. If I don’t pay, they’ll take the house—your mother’s hospital bills, everything. Amara, please… this is the only way.” I stood up, pushing the chair back roughly. “You didn’t ask me! You didn’t even give me a chance to fight! You just handed me over like I’m... nothing!” > “He said he’d take care of you,” my father said weakly. Take care of me? I’d heard of Darius Black—Lagos' youngest billionaire. Cold. Ruthless. A man who didn’t believe in love, only control. And I was supposed to marry him? > “This isn’t a marriage. It’s a transaction,” I said bitterly. My father didn’t argue. He couldn’t. Because we both knew it was true. --- That night, I sat alone in my small bedroom, staring at the wedding dress someone had delivered. It was beautiful—white satin, simple, expensive. But to me, it looked like a prison. I closed my eyes and told myself: > You’re doing this for your family. You’re doing this for your mother. Just survive the marriage... and maybe someday, you’ll be free. But I had no idea that the man I was marrying would be the one to break me first. --- 💭 End of Episode 1