Desiree's POV
Marriage is a sacred vow of commitment in front of God that you would stand by each other through thick and thin, till death do you part. That said, I didn't believe in divorce. All my life, I had known, that if I were ever to marry, it would be a commitment that would never be severed. I didn't come from a picture-perfect family. In fact, I don't think there's a single couple in our clan that's still happily married. So, I decided, that if I was gonna end up walking down that aisle, it would be with a person whom I know I'd stand by for the rest of my life with no regrets.
Given everything I had been through and everything I'd learned, I thought that marriage would be beyond my grasp. I'm a twenty-one-year-old girl without credentials, struggling to make a life for herself abroad. All I have are my wits and incredible talent for survival. How could I find a partner when my life is a big mess? I can't.
It's funny. Fate had always been cruel to me and not once has it been on my side, but never in my wildest delusions have I imagined this—being forced into a marriage of convenience with the devil himself, Aizen Nara. How I wish that all this was just a nightmare… But it's not. This is my reality now. In a cruel twist of fate, I found myself signing my life away for the next five years.
With each step I took, I felt as though a sword was piercing through my chest. What was supposed to be the happiest day of my life turned out to be an absolute nightmare! The one thing I've always wanted—marriage, the sacred vow of lifelong commitment before God—shattered. Instead of looking forward to embarking on this next chapter, I felt as though I was marching to my execution, and the devil was waiting to take my soul.
As I reached my fate, my eyes met Aizen's cold gaze. Everything else happened so fast—the exchange of vows, the rings, the pronouncement. The next thing I knew, Aizen was lifting the veil from my face, concealing an illusion of love and passion.
My heart threatened to burst out of my chest as I struggled to deny the undeniable truth: Aizen had grown even more striking over the years. And on our wedding day, his charm seemed to radiate even more intensely. There was a time when I wanted this… a future with the boy I had strong feelings for. But that was a lifetime ago. We were children barely out of elementary school. Right now, all I want is to run. To get away from this monster.
His hands reached for my face, gently cupping them as he drew me closer. I felt my cheeks flush with warmth as his breath caressed my skin. In that moment, it seemed as though time itself stood still, suspended in the space between us. His lips, initially soft against mine, gradually intensified the kiss, igniting a fire within me. I know that this is all for the show, but it almost felt real. The passion he conveyed felt both comforting and unsettling, leaving me torn between desire and doubt. As our lips remained locked, my thoughts and body betrayed me for wishing time to freeze, reluctant to let go of the fleeting illusion of intimacy.
After that surreal kiss, everything became a blur—the ceremonies and the reception alike. Soon enough, the party was over, and everyone could retire to their rooms. Aizen and I walked back to my room in silence. We both reeked of alcohol, so I was almost certain that my eyes deceived me when I saw his luggage sitting next to mine.
"Why is your luggage here?" I questioned, my voice breaking the silence. I felt a sense of panic surge through my body. No one told me that Aizen and I would share a bed. Had I known, I would've bought pajamas.
He shrugged, shutting the door behind him. I suppose that was his way of telling me to get over it. "People would ask questions if we stayed in separate rooms," Aizen explained, his tone monotonous. "Even if we do that in secret, people have their ways of sniffing out the truth." He moved over to his luggage, unpacking the contents into the wardrobe. "What?" he asked, his gaze darting at me. "Why are you just standing there? It's not like we're going to have sex. We had a contract. Nothing's going to happen."
"I know," I replied, trying my best to keep my composure. But the issue was evident. Aizen didn't realize that I slept in nightgowns that could be considered provocative, and I faced another problem—no one but Aizen could help me out of my wedding dress. The dress was indeed extravagant and voluminous, crafted from fabric that shimmered in the light with intricate details adding to its allure. With a straight across neckline, the puffed swag sleeves gracefully draped over my arms, extending to my elbows. The bodice, adorned with exquisite detailing and featuring a corset closure for a snug fit, enhanced my figure. The open upper back revealed my smooth, creamy skin, adding a touch of sensuality to the ensemble as the skirt cascaded in layers, evoking a princess-like aura.
Impatiently, he arched his brow, his cold steely gaze piercing through me as he asked, "But what?"
I sighed. I have to face the problem head-on since there's no way of avoiding it. With a serious tone, I asked, "Would you please help me undress? As much as I'd like to do it myself, I can't reach the corset closure."
A subtle smirk played at the corners of his lips as he approached, his hands skillfully maneuvering to undo the delicate laces of my dress. His touch sent an unexpected shiver down my spine, igniting a warmth that I attempted to suppress. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to seduce me," he teased, his fingertips tracing the outline of my neck to my shoulders.
I turned abruptly, meeting his gaze with a firm glare. "I'm not," I said firmly.
He rolled his eyes in response, guiding me back to resume his task with practiced ease. Each lace loosened under his skilled fingers, the tight bodice of my dress gradually yielding to his determined efforts. "Done," he declared at last, releasing the dress with a hint of satisfaction.
As the fabric threatened to slip from my grasp, I reacted swiftly, catching it just in time with a deft movement of my hand, preventing its descent.
"A 'thank you' would be nice," Aizen teased, nearly causing the fabric to slip from my grasp. His amusement was evident as he observed my death glare. "What's with that face?" he asked, a playful smirk playing on his lips.
"Sleep on the floor," I demanded, pointing at the soft white carpet.
Aizen chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "No," he refused, "You sleep on the floor if you want. Your choice."
"I hate you," I declared, his smirk only grew wider as if to taunt me. But I had an acceptable reason! My night dress… is quite… Forget it! Five years is an awfully long time. I might as well get used to his annoying presence.
"The feeling, Desiree, is mutual," Aizen stated, patting my shoulder.
Annoyed, I stormed to the closet and snatched my clothes, slamming the bathroom door behind me. I had a long exhausting day. I don't need his bullshit right now. With a heavy sigh, I began my nightly ritual—drawing a hot bath and scrubbing away the layers of makeup and sweat that clung to my skin. After brushing my teeth, I patted myself dry with a towel and I slipped into the only nightgown I had brought, a beautiful long white garment. It had a stunning v-neckline adorned with delicate lace detailing and thin spaghetti straps, its fabric almost sheer. I draped the matching robe over my shoulders, its soft texture comforting against my skin.
"They should've told me that Aizen and I were spending the night together," I muttered to myself, frustration evident in my voice. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, brushing my long, dark hair, still tousled from the day's events.
"If they had, would you have agreed?" Aizen questioned, his image emerging from the corner of the bathroom. He leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. Despite the casual demeanor, the contours of his well-built physique were unmistakable beneath his robe.
I blushed at the realization that he had been there for quite some time. I forgot that the bathroom had two doors and two baths. How much did he see? At this moment, all I want to do is disappear. "Go away!" I tried my best not to shout, averting my gaze from him. Perhaps he was the one trying to seduce me; not the other way around.
His laughter filled the air, as he made his approach, his footsteps echoing in the tiled space. "You don't have to hold your anger, you know?" Aizen's tone was teasing, his eyes glinting with mischief. "My family ensured that the quality of our hotels was top-notch. The walls are soundproof, so no one can hear you even if you scream at me."
I bit my lip, panic surging through my body like a tidal wave. Clutching the brush in front of me like a makeshift weapon, my hands trembled uncontrollably. "S-stay back!" I stammered, my heart pounding against my ribcage. The air felt thick with tension as I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping against hope that this nightmare would somehow dissipate.
Aizen towered over me. He always had. His muscles bulged beneath the fabric of his robe, evidence of the strength he had acquired over the years. I felt his large hands on my shoulders, my eyes snapping open in fear. Meeting his devilish gaze, my body continued to tremble as he effortlessly disarmed me, tossing aside the only weapon I had. "A hairbrush? Really, Desiree? I thought you were smart," he said, his eyes trailing down to my body.
I couldn't utter a word. To say that I'm scared is an understatement. This man coerced me into signing five years of my life to him. He's rich and powerful. Even with the contract signed, he could easily violate its conditions without consequences. This cold, calculating person before me is capable of anything to get what he wants. Still, part of me is hoping that beneath all that, he's still the boy who dared not harm me.
"Lighten up," he says, releasing me from his grasp. "I was just messing with you. It's not like I have any desire to fuck you."
That—no matter how insulting it was—was a relief to hear. A sigh escaped my lips, though my heart still raced with unease.
Aizen's words were unexpected, catching me off guard. "I noticed you've lost a lot of weight since the proposal," he remarked, gesturing towards my waist with a note of concern in his eyes and tone. "You didn't eat much at the reception either. I wanted to mention this because I feel somehow responsible..." His demeanor shifted, his expression turning serious. "Back in Vietnam, I made a joke about how much weight you'd gained since we last met. It was a terrible joke. You were already beautiful then, and your body was never fat. So, I apologize."
He wasn't wrong. I did lose a tremendous amount of weight. His words affected me deeply and as a result, they triggered my eating disorder. I never had a healthy relationship with food or my body. Growing up, I thrived in compliments and words of affirmation. Despite the bold and confident exterior I present to the world, I'm a very insecure person. Since then, I developed bulimia.
"Are you really just gonna stand there?" he asked incredulously, his tone tinged with disbelief.
"What did you expect?" I questioned furiously. "You decided to mess with me on our wedding night! And now you're telling me that I lost too much weight?"
"I apologized, didn't I?" he argued, reaching for my wrist once more, and leading me back to the bedroom. Sitting me down on the bed, he continued, "I admit that bullying you tonight was a bit much considering that this was already the worst day of your life. I just couldn't help it. I mean, you knew how it was, didn't you? Even as kids, this was our dynamic." He kneeled down, his expression turning sincere. "As for your weight, I sincerely wanted to apologize. Also, I mentioned it out of concern, not criticism."
"Why are you on the floor?" I asked, still taken aback by his choice of words and actions.
He scratched his head, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. "No idea."
"I'm going to bed," I announced, standing from my seat. I removed my robe and placed it neatly on top of the chair before slipping into bed and hiding beneath the thick white blanket.
Aizen did the same, settling into his place beside me. For a moment, silence reigned between us. All I could hear were the sounds of both our hearts beating. Then, I sensed a shift on the bed, his body turning to face mine. His head cradled in his hand, he fixed his gaze upon me.
"What is it now?" I asked, irritation lacing my voice as I kept my eyes trained on the ceiling. I wonder what he's thinking. Even then, I found it hard to read him. I'd like to think I knew him well enough, but then I'd be lying to myself.
"We're not lovers," he stated.
I nodded. "No, we're not."
Aizen continued, "We're not friends either."
"That would be correct," I agreed. Where is this conversation leading to?
"I forced you to marry me," The conversation continued as Aizen's hand found mine, our fingers intertwining. His lips curved into a smile, drawing my gaze into his. "What do you think our younger selves would think?" he asked.
Blushing, I tried my best to ignore the sensation of our intertwined hands. "Thirteen-year-old Aizen would've recoiled the idea of marrying Desiree Gotz," I replied, "As for me… Hm…" I pondered for a moment before continuing, "I'm not so sure. I feel like I've lost touch with that twelve-year-old girl." That wasn't entirely true. Part of me believed that the twelve-year-old Desiree would've been overjoyed. However, when it came to Aizen, I was never quite sure how he felt back then.
"You're wrong," he corrected, his grip tightening subtly. "I don't think he would." Pausing briefly, he continued, "I think you would've been disappointed just as you are now. I know how much you wanted to get away from me."
Did I?
"Anyway, we're married on paper and the nature of our relationship has always been tense. We rarely get along, and I take pleasure in bullying you. You seem to enjoy our quarrels. We're not friends, but five years is a long time," Aizen stated, his tone serious yet gentle. "We should at least try to coexist and respect each other's space. And perhaps it wouldn't hurt to acquaint ourselves better."
"So, you want to be my friend; is that what you're trying to say?" I asked, attempting to retract my hand from his grip.
Aiden's hold only grew firmer, drawing me closer until my face was nestled against his chest. Leaning in, his face hovered inches above mine. "Would you allow it?" His eyes were like obsidian, pierced through my soul, drawing me into their depths. He repeated his question, snapping me back to the present.
"I'll consider your friendship," I replied, my hand finally yielding to his touch.
With that, he laid his head down, closing his eyes. "Good night then, Princess," he whispered softly, our hands still entwined.
Aizen Nara, I hate the way you confound me. I should despise you, yet your words have a strange power to sway my thoughts, leaving me conflicted. It would be easier if you remained the cold, distant figure I once believed you to be. With those thoughts lingering in my mind, I drifted off to sleep.