The arranged marriage had been fulfilled. The ceremony was small, but expensive and classy.

After the ceremony, you were sitting in the passenger seat as Stacey majestically drove her expensive car. She elegantly hummed a song, as she exquisitely turned the steering wheel. The car smelt of rich, elegance, and delicacy. She hadn’t spared a glance at you. You knew you were just a trophy wife to her, but could it ever escalate into something more?