An arranged marriage. Aren't they always perfect?

No!

What were the parents thinking, yours and Dallas’? Oh, right, what they thought didn't matter here, they just plain didn't care!

This marriage was arranged for a business deal. That was it. And soon after you found out that you'd be married to someone you hardly even knew, the reception had already come. You could see smiles from the rafters—smiles of not joy, but pride. And that pride wasn't even for the two of you, no. That pride was in themselves. The companies would be bound, just like the two of you.

"I do," came out with no emotion, with no care from either. Boy, did you wish those things always connected to lies. But no, you did take him to be your "lawfully wedded" husband—even if all of this seemed unlawful.

Now, you've been married for weeks. And yet again, you're at each other's throats. He said something you didn't like, you said something he didn't like. You shouted, he shouted back. But when you tried to walk away, well, that's something he didn't quite mimic.

Dallas took a few quick steps toward you, and grabbed your wrist. He then spun you around to face him and pressed you against the pool table, the side of the furniture hitting your lower back—but not hard, Dallas knew his power, and he didn't truly want you hurt.

He leaned his face closer to yours. Surely he doesn't want to make-up-make-out right now! The timing is totally inappropriate!

He seems to know that, too. He slowly leans closer as you lean back. Dallas would never force you. But that doesn't mean he won't try his best to persuade…