"YOU ARE GOING TO MARRY HIM AND THAT'S FINAL!"

Sofia Frances Feran, paced back and forth in her luxurious bedroom as her mind in a whirlwind of frustration and disbelief. Her parents' words echoed in her ears, a stark reminder of the nightmare she found herself in.

"What a shit show of a life!" she murmured alone to herself as s he was expected to marry someone she didn't even know. She thinks that her parents appeared utterly insane for orchestrating her marriage to a complete stranger solely for financial gain!

What if he has a bad breath? 

What if he despised bathing? 

What if he was dominant? 

Sofia couldn't fathom becoming a battered wife.

Sofia Frances Feran, a fashion designer by profession. Truth be told, she had no inclination to work; she simply desired to design elegant and one-of-a-kind gowns and dresses for herself. She thinks that no one could afford her level of skill! Not to sound conceited or anything, but during her schooling days, she had accumulated countless awards and certificates, and the trend had continued until now. Every time she staged an event to showcase her brilliance through a fashion show, people clamored for her to design outfits for them but she would just ignore them because for Sofia, they couldn't meet her standards. Despite numerous offers from individuals, no one could command her.

Her cousin and friend lamented it was a waste for her to rebuff performers, artists, and esteemed individuals but Sofia simply didn't give a damn. She didn't even care for them because she was confident she outshone them all, and as for those men? She didn't need them. For her, they were just headaches.

Sure, she might come off as self-centered to others, but who cares? Perhaps she'd be forever alone, but at least she had proven that forever existed! Alone, nonetheless.

Approaching her 22nd birthday, Sofia owned a sprawling boutique in her family's mall. Her dad had myriad business ventures, predominantly hotels and restaurants, while her mom oversaw their chain of malls. Their family was a business powerhouse, so what more could you expect from her?

Possibly, a multi-billionaire chic. She possessed a flawless physique and a face resembling that of an angel, so what was lacking? Nothing, because as she thinks, she was perfect.

Returning to her "shitlife," she received a text from her dad to go to one of their restaurants precisely at 7 p.m.

It was already 4:46pm. She needed to prepare. She donned a form-fitting dress, applied her signature red lipstick with subtle makeup, curled her hair, and slipped into stilettos.

"Perfect!" she exclaimed as she looked at herself in the mirror.

She arrived promptly at 7 p.m., expecting a modest family dinner, but to her dismay, that wasn't the case. She encountered a middle-aged couple, exuding elegance and sophistication.

"Hi."

"Hello! You must be Sofia? So lovely to meet you. You take after your mother. Please, call me Aunt Sab and my husband Uncle Enrico." she remarked, planting a kiss on Sofia's cheek.

"Thank you, Aunt Sab." Sofia responded politely.

"And you must be Uncle Enrico" she said, reciprocating the peck on his cheek.

"Shall we be seated?" Sofia's dad suggested.

Sofia could sense the impending discussion about the wedding. It was crystal clear that they were the parents of her prospective husband. 

"Yuck?" she said only in her mind.

Did she just utter the words prospective husband?

As they dined, they delved into wedding arrangements. Just splendid. She was the one getting married, yet others were calling the shots? Had she even agreed to this?

"Sorry for being late. My schedule was packed." a husky voice interjected.

Sofia was dumbfounded by what she beheld. Was he a Greek God standing before them?

"You're always tardy, Weyn. Please, take a seat." Aunt Sab chided.

"Anyway, Weyn, allow me to introduce you to your fiancée, Sofia Frances Fernan. And Sofia, this is Marl Sebastian Andrillian, your future husband." her dad announced.

Their eyes met, and Sofia instinctively averted her gaze. There was something strange about him.

"I still don't agree, so how do you presume he'll become my husband? I've no intention of getting married!" she exclaimed.

"Perhaps you're a lesbian, that's why you don't want to." Marl, her supposed future husband, arrogantly said.

"Lesbian? Me? Maybe you're the one who's gay, because you're so loud!" Sofia fired back.

"Really? How do you want me to prove how manly I am? How about tonight?" he smirked.

Sofia felt her cheeks flush with anger.

"Enough, both of you. You'll do nothing but get married next week." their fathers asserted in unison.

They were out of their minds!

After their fathers delivered that nonsensical ultimatum, Sofia stormed out, leaving them all dumbfounded.

Damn it! This was absurd, though her fiancé was undeniably handsome. Yes, she was a fashion designer, so she could appreciate looks. Truth be told, even in his casual attire earlier, she could discern his well-defined physique. It was evident in the way his muscles flexed with each subtle movement.

His broad chest and sturdy arms made her—Shit! What was this? Sofia, don't make it obvious that you're bored with your sex life, even though she admitted she was still a virgin and it was wrong to think about that man! He was just too presumptuous!

*Ring, Ring.*

Her dad's face flashed on the screen. She answered promptly, not wanting them to dispatch a rescue team. Yes, her parents were that overprotective, but it had waned since her debut and graduation. After all, she couldn't fault them. She was an only child.

"Yes, Dad?"

"(Where the hell are you, stubborn?)"

"Out and about? I'm in my Porsche, driving."

"(Sofia Frances! Come back home or I'll cut all of your credit cards!)"

"Jeez! Fine, but ensure there are no pests at home." pest she meant her future husband.

Her dad terminated the call, prompting her to head home, relieved to find the absence of her fiance.

Upon entering her room, she collapsed onto her bed, shutting her eyes.

-

This is it. The most ludicrous day of her life. She hadn't even bothered crafting her own gown or suit for him. Why bother? She didn't want this wedding!

"Sweetheart, hurry up, or we might be late for your wedding." her mom urged.

"I would love to," she muttered to herself. Since encountering the stranger at their family's fine dining restaurant, they hadn't crossed paths again. Her parents must be out of their minds to arrange her marriage to that stranger.

The ceremony proceeded swiftly, and Sofia found herself walking down the aisle with her parents. She glimpsed her friends, colleagues, and her parents' acquaintances and business partners. She spotted her relatives beaming and her cousins offering thumbs up.

"She's crying tears of happiness." someone remarked.

Hell no! She was crying because she was destined for hell.

She couldn't comprehend how a sudden impulse had altered the course of events. She spied him standing there, donning his most charming smile, and her heart began to race.

What the heck was happening? Throughout, she found herself either fixating on him or avoiding his gaze. She could see his lips curve.

How could he appear so flawless in that suit? She felt immensely nervous. Her knees quivered.

She regarded it as preposterous, as if this were her genuine wedding, even though it was lawful. But it was a sham because there was no love, even though she disbelieved in love.

This was merely a clandestine wedding, and she couldn't fathom why they couldn't divulge it to others, even though she couldn't care less about him. She was simply peeved because he should be honored to marry Sofia Frances! A gorgeous, affluent woman!

But she concluded that it was acceptable. At the very least, everyone knew she was single, except those present at the wedding.

"Marl, wear this ring as a token of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen." she intoned as she slid the ring onto his finger.

"Sofia, wear this ring as a symbol of my affection and devotion, as I vow to stand by you through thick and thin. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen." he recited as he placed the ring on her finger.

He was prepared! As though everything he uttered was genuine. She didn't even bother to craft her vow eloquently because her heart was vacant. She knew nothing about love. She was simply exasperated. Damn it.

"You may kiss the bride."

Amidst the cheers and applause, Sofia locked eyes with him, catching him gazing at her. She felt her cheeks grow warm.

"Taste how sweet my lips are, and I'll make sure you'll get addicted after this, Mrs. Andrillian." he murmured in her ear, adopting a seductive tone.

Before she could react—

He had already stolen her first kiss.

Damn it. She didn't react further.

"MR. ANDRILLIAN, YOU'RE GOING TO REGRET MARRYING ME—'Til hatred do us part!" she shouts inside her head while her husband is devouring her lips.