The Billionaire's Bound Bride

The rain drummed gently on the windows of the Adams estate, which was in sync with the discomfort in Selene’s heart. Selene's study, which was richly decorated with mahogany and always was her favorite as a child, now felt distant, foreign, and cold. The family lawyer, Mr. Lorne, was flipping through a set of legal documents, spectacles resting on the button of his nose as he sighed. Selene herself looked stricken and static, indicating that she was distressed. Her hands were clasped in her lap, and she maintained pale knuckles from the pressure. Her father's death made everything in her life about to shift. Along with that, everything she considered crucial in her life was changed. “Thank you for gathering,” Mr. Lorne stated. With a very deep undertone to his already raspy voice, much like that of a snake, he added, “ Your father, Mr. Harold Adams, inherited a set of assets that I must say were unusual and complicated for a man of his status.” Selene looked over at her mother, only to find her looking away. A few other relatives were scattered around the room, those who emerged solely for weddings and funerals. Lydia's aunt was fussing over the purse clasp, and Mark, the cousin, was staring not in grief but with curiosity. Grief akin to sorrow Tick Tock from the grandfather clock in the corner was counting every second in a ‘quiet metronome.’ Selene’s focus sharpened when Mr. Lorne continued. ‘With Selene present, this was Harold’s wish. There’s one clause I need to highlight.’’’ “Words of warning,” Mr. Lorne said with paper, “Clause 9. It is about a promise made by Mr. Adams and a longtime friend,” the late Mr. Richard Smith's business mate. Selene squinted. She vaguely remembered Richard from childhood. A tall, booming man who brought her candy and often told her silly jokes that always made her giggle. Now his son Raymond was faintly existent in her sepia-toned memories. A distant, older shadow. Burgeoning. Her memories told of a family barbecue where she and Raymond exchanged glances. That awkward, fleeting moment was years ago. So, as the will says, Mr. Lorne went on, the two dads decided way back, and even wrote it down in a contract, that their kids—Selene and Raymond—should get married to tie the families together. The room got quiet all of a sudden. Selene looked confused. Wait, what? It’s what your father wanted in the end, Mr. Lorne answered softly. He wanted the wedding to happen to create trust and a bond between the families. The Smith family said they’re on board with it. Are you saying, she said, shocked, he set me up to marry Raymond Smith? Her mother looked up, tired and with red eyes. Selene, your father loved you. He believed this would keep you safe. He thought it was the right thing to do for your future. By trading me off? She said, her voice breaking. He didn’t even ask. Mr. Lorne coughed. You don’t have to do it, by law. But a big piece of the inheritance—stocks, property, and your father’s estate—is connected to this deal. If you skip the wedding, all will go to charities, according to the contract. Selene stood up way too fast, dizzy, feet barely finding the floor. Her mind was a mess. Eddy, her boyfriend since forever, popped into her head: that dumb lopsided grin, the way he made her laugh about nothing. They’d talked about a future, a real one, not some weird contractual thing. Hell, he’d even dropped hints about proposing. Just last week they strolled through the park, fingers laced, talking about that little cottage with the blue door. Didn’t seem so far-fetched then. “What if I say no?” Her voice barely made it past her lips. Mr. Lorne shuffled some papers, pretending to be gentle. “Well, then the inheritance changes. Your lifestyle, the estate, and the company shares poof. Not yours anymore.” Rain hammered the windows, making the world outside look like a smeared watercolor. Everything she’d ever believed about love and freedom suddenly felt…stupid. Like a kid wishing on a falling star. She drifted across the room, floorboards whining under her weight. Her dad’s desk sat in its old spot, the one she’d used as a hideout when she was five. On top: an ancient photo of her dad and Richard Smith, arms slung around each other, faces split by giant, hopeful grins. “When?” she asked, not really wanting to know. Mr. Lorne didn’t even look up. “Smith already called. He’s coming this week.” Her mom stepped in, soft but stubborn. “Sweetheart, your dad trusted that family. He thought Raymond would look after you. This wasn’t just business. He saw something in them—loyalty.” Loyalty. Yeah, right. Selene swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. Loyalty to whom, exactly? Ghosts or the living? The study got too small, too hot. She needed out. She yanked open the door and wandered, every breath stuffed with the smell of polished wood and old pages. The memories here? Kind of warped now. Like someone had stepped on a photograph and cracked it down the middle. She found the garden doors and shoved them open. Cold rain slapped her face. She let it. For a second, it almost felt like relief. Or maybe baptism. Hard to tell. Standing there, soaked and shivering, Selene wondered—was any of this destiny? Or just a bunch of crusty old men playing matchmaker with their kids’ lives? Either way, the choice was hers. Walk away from everything, or step into a future she never asked for with a stranger she’d never met. Not exactly a love story. More like a hostage situation with better real estate. The next few days, honestly, they just blurred. Lawyers called. Distant relatives offered fake sympathy. The house buzzed with gossip. Selene kept to herself, practically memorizing the will, hoping the words would magically rearrange into something less awful. One morning, she found herself at her dad’s desk, tracing the chewed-up end of his favorite pen. Silence everywhere. She pictured him hunched over business deals, pausing to encourage her when she couldn’t sleep. She didn’t see the tears coming. Would he have done all this if he’d actually listened to her? No way to know now. Then, out of nowhere, Mr. Lorne’s assistant handed her a sealed envelope. Her dad’s handwriting. Her heart did a weird little flip. My dearest Selene, If you’re reading this, it means I am gone. And for that, I am deeply sorry. This was never meant to be a burden for you. Some promises are made for honor, not just business. Richard was like a brother. We dreamed of more than just money legacies. Watching you grow up next to his son, it just seemed right, maybe even old-fashioned. I thought Raymond would be there for you. I know you love someone else. I’m asking a lot, I know. Sometimes life drags us down roads we never planned—and sometimes they turn out beautiful anyway. Trust yourself. Whatever you do, I love you. Dad By the end, Selene was shaking. Her dad’s words weren’t orders; they were hopes. Maybe Raymond wasn’t just a faceless obligation. Maybe there was room for something real in all this mess. But first, she’d have to meet him. And soon.