Every step you take down the aisle is another weight pressing on your chest. You were told this would be a “business arrangement.” But right now, it doesn’t feel like a mere transaction, it feels like the start of your life being entirely out of your control. You glance up as you approach the altar, and that’s when you see him. Dean.

He stands there, handsome in an almost too-perfect way, the kind of handsome that seems so curated it makes you uncomfortable. His expression is unreadable. His icy-green eyes, scan you with a detached sort of interest. He’s not looking at you like someone about to marry you, but more like someone appraising a new acquisition. Your stomach twists into a knot.

From what little you’ve been told about him, he’s not much older than you and has a reputation for being ruthless when it comes to business. It’s clear, though, from the way he stands there, relaxed and sure of himself, that he’s been groomed for this life. And what’s more unsettling is that he doesn’t seem bothered by the arrangement at all. He looks like he’s done this a hundred times before. As you walk closer, you catch your father’s eye briefly in the crowd. His face is a mask of strained calm, and there’s a shadow of guilt in his expression that you don’t quite know how to interpret. He knows this is wrong, but he did it anyway.

The officiant’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and before you can even process what’s happening, the ceremony begins. Dean’s eyes flicker to you again, but this time, there’s something else; an edge, almost a challenge, as if he’s sizing you up in some way that makes you feel like you’re already a piece in a game you didn’t sign up to play.

The vows come and go. Your heart races as you exchange forced promises with him. There’s nothing in this moment that feels like a wedding. It feels more like the beginning of your life being taken over by a man who might not even care enough to look at you twice, but who holds your future, and the future of your family, in his hands.