The Arrangement
Lara stood in front of the mirror, staring at the white dress that had been picked for her. It wasn't the kind of dress a girl dreamed of wearing on her wedding day. It wasn't lace or delicate, designed with love and anticipation.
No, it was a business arrangement in silk—a high-neck, fitted gown that screamed sophistication but held no warmth.
Just like the man waiting for her at the altar.
Adrian Sinclair.
She still didn't know why he had done this. Why her? Why now? What did he gain from forcing her into a marriage that neither of them wanted?
Lara's fingers curled into fists at her sides, her nails pressing into her palms. It had all happened so quickly. A few weeks ago, she had been living her life—simple, predictable, hers. Then Adrian had come crashing in like a storm, turning everything upside down.
Her father owed money. A lot of money.
Money that Adrian Sinclair had the power to erase with a single signature.
But there had been a condition.
Marry him.
Lara still didn't understand what Adrian gained from marrying a woman who had nothing. No wealth. No powerful connections. No influence.
Nothing but a last name tied to a father who had made too many bad decisions.
She took a slow breath and turned away from the mirror, pressing her hands against the cold marble of the vanity. There was no use thinking about it now. The decision had been made for her, and there was no escaping it.
A knock sounded at the door. A second later, her father's voice came through. "Lara, it's time."
Her heart twisted painfully. He sounded guilty. As he should.
Lara had always known that David Lawson was not a good man. He was selfish, reckless, and had a bad habit of making promises he couldn't keep. But he was still her father. The only family she had left.
And because of him, she was about to marry a man who barely spoke to her outside of issuing orders.
She straightened, smoothing down the front of her dress. The fabric was smooth beneath her fingers, but it felt like shackles.
You can do this.
Lara swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped toward the door.
The church was nearly empty—only a few witnesses, none of whom were her family or friends.
Adrian had ensured that.
Her father wasn't allowed to be here. Neither were the few friends she had left. Adrian had wanted this to be clean. No distractions. No emotional goodbyes. Just the contract sealed with vows neither of them meant.
Lara's stomach twisted as she took her first step down the aisle.
Adrian stood at the altar, his posture rigid, his hands tucked into the pockets of his perfectly tailored black suit. He looked like he belonged there. Like he was in control.
He was.
His dark eyes followed her every step, unreadable, unwavering.
Lara kept her chin high, refusing to let him see her fear.
If he wanted to break me, he would have to try harder.
She reached the altar, but Adrian didn't offer his hand. He didn't need to. The priest wasted no time.
The words blurred together, white noise against the pounding of her heart.
"… to have and to hold, from this day forward…"
"… for better or worse, for richer or poorer…"
Worse. It was already worse.
"… until death do you part."
A pause.
"Do you, Lara Lawson, take Adrian Sinclair to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
Her throat closed.
She felt Adrian's eyes on her, waiting. The room seemed to shrink around her, the walls pressing in.
She hesitated.
Adrian's fingers twitched at his side, the only sign of impatience.
"I do," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The words felt like a death sentence.
Adrian's voice was stronger when he spoke his vows. Confident. Sure.
Like he had already won.
Then came the moment she had dreaded most.
"The groom may kiss the bride."
Lara braced herself.
Adrian reached for her, his movements smooth, practiced. His fingers slid beneath her chin, tilting her face up toward his. For a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes. A hesitation.
Then his lips brushed against hers.
Soft but firm. Controlled.
A fleeting moment that sent an unfamiliar shiver down her spine.
And then it was over.
The moment the priest pronounced them husband and wife, a polite round of applause followed. Nothing grand. Nothing joyful. Just a handful of witnesses clapping as though they had just sealed a deal.
Which, in a way, they had.
Lara barely had time to process what had happened before Adrian took her hand and led her down the aisle. His grip was firm but not painful, his pace quick.
It felt like an escape.
But not for her.
She wasn't the one being freed.
The reception was as cold as the ceremony.
A small, elegant dinner at one of Adrian's private estates. No speeches. No dancing. Just a silent meal with a few of his business associates, men and women who barely acknowledged her presence.
Lara picked at her plate, appetite nonexistent.
Adrian, on the other hand, ate like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn't just forced her into a marriage neither of them wanted.
Like he hadn't stolen her life and rewritten it in his name.
When dinner was over, Adrian stood and buttoned his suit jacket. "Come."
Lara hesitated, glancing around the room. No one seemed to notice the way he commanded her. No one cared.
Swallowing her pride, she followed him out of the dining hall and into the hallway.
His estate was massive, filled with rooms she would probably never see.
They walked in silence until they reached a grand staircase leading to the upper floors.
Lara's stomach tightened.
She knew what happened after weddings.
Adrian must have sensed her hesitation because he let out a low sigh. "Relax. I'm not going to touch you."
Her eyes snapped to his.
He didn't look at her, instead focusing on the stairs as he continued walking.
"I'm not a monster, Lara."
She almost laughed. Almost.
Because he might not think he was a monster, but he had still taken her freedom.
Still forced her into this.
They reached a large bedroom. Hers, apparently.
Adrian stopped in the doorway. "You'll stay here. If you need anything, ask the staff."
That was it. No goodnight. No explanation. Just cold detachment as he turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the middle of a room that wasn't hers, in a house that wasn't home, bound to a man she barely knew.
Lara sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the ring on her finger.
She was Mrs. Sinclair now.
And her nightmare had only just begun.