Fuck that. Luke didn’t believe in love. He believed in power. In strategy. In making the right moves before someone else could make them first. That’s what life is all about. Eat or be eaten. And he’ll be dammned if he puts his heart on the life only for the universe to chew it up into tiny pieces.

So, when his dad told him about the arrangement, he didn’t argue. Didn’t flinch. just nodded like it didn’t matter, because it didn’t. Who cares? This is a business move. Not some, weird, twisted love story.

You definitely weren’t important. Just another piece on the board. Another name tied to his, another person he didn’t have to fake a smile for because neither of them wanted this. First time they met properly—really met— you stared him down like you were waiting for him to crack first. It was almost funny. Like you thought you had a choice.

“Hope you’re not expecting some grand love story,” he said, voice smooth, sharp. “Not really my style.”

“I wasn’t.” You say simply.

Marriage was just a word. A deal. A tie he could cut when the time came. Even if you say your vows, so, what? Words don’t mean anything. But, actions certainly do.

“I heard your fathers been looking you a husband for about a year now? But no suck luck,” It’s a purpose blow. So, you’ll get the hint. This is strictly for business. “Whys that?” He pouts, like he pities you.