THE WEDDING I DIDN’T CHOOSE

The first thing I noticed was the cold band of metal on my finger. It gleamed under the morning sun streaming through the grand bedroom window—too big, too empty, and too silent. My head pounded with a dull ache, as if a thousand memories were trying to fight their way back into my mind.

I sat up, blankets pooling at my waist, and stared at the man sleeping beside me. His dark hair fell over his eyes, his lips slightly parted in peaceful sleep. He looked heartbreakingly perfect—and completely unfamiliar.

Then the memories came back, slow and suffocating: the crowd at the marble altar, the priest’s voice echoing in the cathedral, the sharp glint of cameras, and his eyes—cold and unyielding as they met mine across the aisle.

A knock on the door startled me. The door opened a crack, and a maid peeked in.

“Mrs. Alvarez,” she said, voice hesitant, “the lawyer is here to finalize your marriage contract.”

Mrs. Alvarez.

The name hit me like ice water. I was Althea Ramirez, heiress to a company built on sweat and steel, and he was Damian Alvarez, the ruthless CEO of the rival corporation that had spent years trying to destroy my family’s business. We were sworn enemies. Yet here I was, wearing his name.

I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and padded to the mirror. The reflection that stared back looked like a stranger: tangled hair, eyes rimmed red from crying, lips bruised from desperate kisses I couldn’t remember asking for. I hated that I looked like I belonged in his world.

My hands trembled as I tried to twist the ring off my finger. It wouldn’t budge, as if mocking me.

Why did I marry him?

Last night was a blur of champagne, whispered threats, and an ultimatum neither of us could refuse. Our families had finally crossed a line—one that ended in a forced marriage to protect what little peace was left between our companies.

My father’s last words before pushing me down the aisle still echoed: “Marry him, or we lose everything.”

I hated him for it. I hated Damian more. And I hated myself most of all for feeling the burn in my chest when his hand took mine at the altar.

A groan pulled my attention back to the bed. Damian blinked awake, eyes dark and assessing as they landed on me. Even half-asleep, he looked dangerous.

“You’re awake,” he said, voice rough with sleep. He sat up, sheets falling to reveal the lines of his muscled chest. “Good. We need to talk.”

I almost laughed. Talk? With the man who ruined my father’s company, who made me feel things I didn’t want to feel?

I clenched my jaw. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

His gaze hardened. “There’s everything to talk about. Starting with the fact that someone tried to kill you last night.”

I froze. Memories flickered—screeching tires, the blur of headlights, Damian’s arm yanking me away from the speeding car. I thought it was an accident. But his eyes told me otherwise.

“You think it was planned,” I whispered.

“I know it was,” he said, his voice steel. “And now that we’re married, they’ll come after both of us. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.”

My chest squeezed with panic and a thrill I couldn’t explain. Because he was right: the enemies who wanted me dead wouldn’t stop. And now, as much as I loathed him, Damian Alvarez was the only person who stood between me and a funeral.

He reached for me, fingers brushing my wrist. “Althea,” he said, softer this time, “I know you hate me. But if we don’t act like this marriage is real—if we don’t stay together—everything we know will burn.”

The door opened wider, and the lawyer stepped in, briefcase in hand, eyes glinting like he’d smelled blood in the water. Papers rustled as he laid them on the table: a contract binding me to the man I feared and desired, a prison disguised as a promise.

I glanced at Damian, my supposed husband. His eyes were unreadable, his jaw tight. I realized then that this wasn’t just a marriage of convenience—it was a marriage of survival.

I took a breath and squared my shoulders. If this was my fate, I would fight for it. Not just to save myself, but to make sure I never felt powerless again.

Because I was Althea Alvarez-Ramirez now. And no one would break me.

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