Zara Ibrahim's hand trembled as she clutched the silver pen, the weight of the moment pressing hard on her chest. Her heart pounded like a warning drum, screaming at her to run. But there was nowhere to go.
The white paper before her bore the bold title: Marriage Certificate.
She glanced up at the man seated across the table—Ameer Alhassan. Her new husband. Her enemy.
He wore a black designer suit, sharp as his jawline. His eyes were cold, unreadable, and far too calm for a man forcing someone into marriage. There wasn't even a hint of remorse on his face. Only amusement.
"This isn't the time to get stage fright," Ameer said coolly, his voice deep and mocking. "Unless, of course, you've changed your mind. But you know what that would cost your father."
Her jaw clenched. She had no choice.
Zara's father had been framed for embezzlement—by Ameer's father. They all knew it, but no one could prove it. And now, after two weeks in prison and the threat of a twenty-year sentence, the only offer on the table was this: marriage to the enemy's son.
Ameer hadn't even tried to pretend. He wanted revenge for something Zara didn't understand yet. And he chose to get it by owning her.
Her hand moved slowly. She signed her name—Zara Ibrahim—in shaking cursive. It was done.
Ameer leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly. "Congratulations, Mrs. Alhassan. You're officially mine."
She stood up, her spine stiff. "This is a transaction. Nothing more."
His lips twitched into a smile. "Then don't fall in love. I'd hate to break your heart."
She scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. I'd rather love a snake."
"Good," he replied, standing as well. He towered over her, his scent a mix of leather and danger. "Because I bite harder."
Zara stepped back.
Her mother had begged her not to go through with it, but what choice did she have? Her father would die in prison, and the world would watch. She had sacrificed her freedom for her father's.
As they walked out of the court building, the reporters swarmed, cameras flashing like lightning. Ameer placed a possessive hand on her back.
"Smile, darling. The world is watching."
She didn't smile. Not even a little. Her fingers itched to slap the arrogant smirk off his face.
In the car, silence settled between them like a thick fog.
"You'll live in my house," Ameer said flatly. "You'll attend public functions with me. You'll behave like the perfect wife. But don't expect love, affection, or trust. This marriage is a business deal."
Zara looked out the window, her eyes burning. "Good. I wasn't expecting a fairy tale."
He paused for a moment, then added, "Oh, and one more thing…"
She turned her face toward him.
"Try anything stupid—like leaving, spying, or playing games—and I won't hesitate to destroy you… just like your father."
Zara stared back at him, no longer afraid.
"Try me."