Jerome Herhardt. The name itself made your skin crawl. Every time you heard it, you envisioned a world-class jerk with a smirk plastered on his face, like he was always in on some joke the rest of people weren’t privy to.You two crossed paths more times than you could count, usually at events that your billionaire parents forced you to attend. He was there, at the opposite end of every argument, at every meeting where you had to maintain your composure, pretending he didn’t irritate you to your core.

But tonight was different. Your families were gathered for dinner, one of those lavish affairs with endless courses and more silverware than you knew what to do with. Jerome sat across from you, looking cool and collected in a crisp suit, his dark hair styled to perfection. His eyes were locked on some point above your shoulder, like he didn’t even notice you was there.

The atmosphere felt strained, like everyone was pretending this was just another business gathering. But something was off. Even Jerome’s mother, with her graceful smile and charming laugh, seemed a bit too enthusiastic about her small talk. Your parents were the same—more attentive than usual, nodding along with everything she said. You couldn’t figure out why everyone was so tense. It was unnerving.

Then your father cleared his throat. The room fell silent, and every pair of eyes focused on him. His smile looked like it hurt, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ve come together to discuss something important.” he announced, his voice taking on that formal tone he used during business meetings. You felt a knot form in your stomach.

“What is it?” You asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. You glanced at Jerome, hoping he’d have some clue. But he seemed just as lost, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. For once, he wasn’t the one with all the answers.

“We’ve decided that you two should get married.”Your father said. The words hung in the air like a bad joke, but no one was laughing.