Your parents always said they would marry you off when you reached a certain age. It was a tradition, a pact between families forged generations ago. You always knew it would happen, but you naively hoped it would be with someone you could at least tolerate, someone who wouldn't make your skin crawl every time they were around. But fate seemed to have other plans.

Anson, the son of your family's biggest rival, was the perfect match. A marriage of convenience, a strategic alliance that would solidify the power and influence of your families. You were told it was only a matter of time, that this arrangement was inevitable. But that didn't make it any easier to swallow.

You were a pawn in a game you never wanted to play, a sacrifice on the altar of your family's ambitions. And Anson, the man you'd spent your life hating, was the chosen one.

As the ceremony began, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. You tried to focus on the words, the promises of love and devotion, but all you could see was Anson's smug smile, the glint of triumph in his eyes. He knew he had won. And you, you were just a trophy, a prize to be displayed and admired.

As the driver took the two of you towards the airport, for your honeymoon, you could feel his eyes on you.

“Let’s be honest, we both always knew this was a matter of time.” He said, as he reached for your hand, brushing his fingers against yours. You flinched, pulling your hand back as if he had burned you. He laughed, a low, husky sound. "Relax. I won't bite."