Collateral Bride

Chapter 3: Sold

“Call the house. She’s here.” The words hit me before I even had time to process them. My eyes shifted between the two guards as something in my chest tightened.

“Excuse me?” I asked, stepping closer to the gate. “Who exactly are you calling?”

The first guard didn’t answer me. He already turned his radio slightly away, speaking into it again like I wasn’t standing right there. My pulse picked up, not from fear alone, but from the strange way this whole thing suddenly felt planned.

“I said I’m here to see my father,” I repeated, louder this time. “Open the gate.”

The second guard finally looked at me properly. His expression didn’t change, but there was something uncomfortable in the way he avoided my eyes right after. “You were expected,” he said.

That sentence stopped me for a second. I frowned, trying to understand what he meant. “Expected by who?”

Before he could respond, the large mansion gate began to open from inside. The sound of metal shifting against metal filled the air, slow and controlled, like someone had been waiting for that exact moment.

My stomach tightened as I took a step back without meaning to. I hadn’t been invited in. I had been allowed in. That difference suddenly felt very important.

The guards stepped aside, not blocking me anymore, but also not leaving. It felt like they were still watching, making sure I didn’t turn around. I walked forward anyway, even though something in me wanted to stop.

The driveway stretched long and empty, leading straight to the front entrance. Nothing about the house looked different, but everything about it felt different. It was too quiet now and way too prepared.

The front door opened before I reached it. Not a servant, not a staff member, but Leonard. He stood there like he had been waiting for me the entire time.

My steps slowed. “You,” I said, my voice dropping. “You called me here.”

Leonard didn’t deny it. He looked tired, older than I remembered, like whatever guilt he carried had finally started showing on his face. “Darcy, please just come inside,” he said.

I let out a short laugh that had no humor in it. “No. Tell me what is going on first. Why are there guards outside like I’m a threat?”

He hesitated, then stepped aside. “Your father will explain everything.”

Something inside me snapped at that answer. “No, Leonard. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to drag me here and then hide behind him.”

His shoulders dropped a little. “I didn’t have a choice.”

That sentence didn’t help. It only made everything worse. I walked past him into the house anyway, because standing outside felt like giving them control I didn’t want to admit they already had.

The hallway was exactly the same as I remembered. Cold marble floors, expensive paintings, silence that always felt too heavy for a home. My footsteps echoed as I moved further inside.

Then I saw him. My father. Sitting in a chair near the living room, like he had been placed there on purpose. He didn’t look as strong as I remembered, but his eyes were still sharp, very sharp too.

“Darcy,” he said, like this was a normal meeting. Like years of silence didn’t exist between us.

I didn’t sit down. “Don’t call me like that,” I said. “Tell me why I’m here.”

He exhaled, leaning back slightly. “Because I needed you to come home.”

“That’s not my home,” I replied immediately. “You stopped that years ago.”

A brief silence followed. Leonard stood near the door, not moving, not speaking. It made me realize he wasn’t just a messenger. He was part of this.

My father finally gestured toward the seat across from him. “Sit.”

“No.”

His expression changed slightly, not anger exactly, more like impatience. “Darcy, I don’t have the strength for this. Just sit.”

I stayed standing. “Then talk.”

He studied me for a moment, then nodded like he had expected resistance. “Fine. You want the truth? You’re here because I owe a debt.”

I blinked. “What?”

“A large one,” he continued. “Business, bad decisions, things you don’t need every detail of. I owe James Andrew more than I can repay.”

The name hit the room like a weight. I didn’t know him personally, but I knew the type. Wealth, power, silence that controlled rooms before he even entered them.

“What does that have to do with me?” I asked carefully.

My father’s gaze didn’t move away. “Everything.”

Leonard shifted slightly near the door, like he wanted to leave but couldn’t. That small movement made my stomach sink further.

My father continued, “I offered him something he wanted in return. A settlement.”

I shook my head once, refusing to understand where this was going. “No. Don’t talk in circles. Just say it.”

He paused. Then said it clearly. “You.”

The word didn’t make sense at first. My mind refused to connect it to anything real.

“What do you mean me?” My voice dropped without me noticing.

“A contract,” he said. “One year. Marriage.”

The room tilted slightly in my head, not physically, but like my thoughts couldn’t catch up fast enough. I stared at him, waiting for him to take it back, waiting for him to laugh like it was some twisted joke. But he didn’t.

“You can’t be serious,” I said, stepping forward now. “You can’t just offer me like I’m—like I’m property.”

His expression hardened. “It was the only way to protect this family.”

“I am not this family!” My voice broke sharper than I expected. “You stopped being my father the day you forced me into Frank’s life. Don’t you dare act like you’re protecting me now.”

His jaw tightened. “That marriage is already arranged.”

The words hit harder than anything else. “Arranged by who?”

“Lawyers. Contracts. Everything is signed.”

My hands curled into fists without me realizing. “Without my consent?”

“You would have said no,” he replied, like that explained everything.

A bitter laugh escaped me. “Of course I would’ve said no. Because I’m a human being, not something you trade away to fix your mistakes.”

Leonard finally spoke from the side. “Darcy, please just listen—”

I turned on him instantly. “You too? You helped with this?”

His silence answered faster than words could. My chest tightened, anger and disbelief mixing in a way that made it hard to breathe properly.

My father stood up now, slower than before, but still firm. “This is already done,” he said. “You’re not here to argue. You’re here to accept it.”

“I will never accept this,” I said immediately.

He gestured toward the door. “Take her upstairs. She’ll stay here until everything is finalized.”

I froze. “No. You don’t get to decide that.”

Two men I hadn’t noticed earlier stepped into the room. Not guards from outside, but inside the house. That realization made my stomach drop.

“Dad,” I said, voice lower now, something closer to disbelief than anger. “You’re actually doing this.”

He didn’t answer. That was the answer. The men moved closer. I stepped back immediately. “Don’t touch me.”

“Darcy,” Leonard said, almost pleading now.

“Don’t,” I snapped at him. “Don’t say my name like you didn’t just sell me out.”

One of the men reached for my arm. I pulled away hard, but there were two of them now. The second grabbed my wrist, steady and firm.

“Let go of me!” I shouted, trying to break free. “I said let go!”

No one responded. Not my father. Not Leonard. I struggled harder, my voice rising as they pulled me toward the hallway. “You can’t do this! I am not going anywhere with you!”

My father’s voice followed me as I was dragged back toward the door. It was calm and final. “It’s already done, Darcy. You’ll understand soon enough.”

I turned my head sharply, trying to look back at him. “No,” I said, breath uneven. “I will never understand this.”

The door opened again, and cold air hit my face as they pulled me outside. My feet barely touched the ground as they moved me toward a waiting car I hadn’t seen before.

I fought again, louder this time. “This isn’t over! You hear me? This is not over!”

Leonard stood at the entrance, not following, not stopping it. Just watching. That hurt more than anything else.

As they pushed me into the car, I twisted toward the house one last time, my voice breaking through the noise.

“Tell me one thing,” I shouted. “Was any of it real?”