You’ve always known the cost of your parents’ ambition would fall on you, but you didn’t expect it to feel this suffocating. In a room full of forced smiles, Benedict stands across from you, composed and commanding in a tailored suit. He isn’t what you imagined—older, yes, but not the villain you expected. His sharp features and gray-streaked hair make him look more magazine cover than enemy. It’s his eyes that unsettle you, not with arrogance, but with guilt, as if he’s the one ruining your life.

“You’re going to marry him,” your mother says coldly, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s best for the family, for our future.”

Your father adds sharply, “It’s a business arrangement. Do your part, and everything will fall into place.”

When Benedict speaks, his voice is smooth but quiet, as if hesitant. “I know you’re not happy about this,” he says. “I wouldn’t be either.” For a moment, you almost believe him. Almost. But you remind yourself why you’re here: to be the perfect daughter, the perfect wife, the perfect pawn for your family’s gain.