Isadora's Pov
Our honeymoon suite was suffocating both literally and figuratively.
The scent of roses and expensive wine filled the air. The silk sheets, bright flowers and lights were everything a bride wanted. Tonight was everything a bride dreamed of. But not me.
I didn't want this.
I didn't want him.
And now, there was no escape.
I sat on the edge of the massive bed, gripping the fabric of my dress so tight my knuckles turned white.
The girl staring back at me in the vanity mirror taunted me. She was the perfect image of a bride trapped in a golden, gilded cage — elegant wedding dress, beautiful hair and eyes and a wedding ring on her finger, a ring that felt like chains in her hand.
I hated this.
I hated everything about this.
Most of all, I hated him — Darren Barlowe.
The scarred billionaire. The infamous one-handed businessman. The man I was now "legally" bound to.
I was pulled out of my depressing thoughts when I heard familiar footsteps.
Darren was here.
I'd recognize those steps anywhere. They were the same slow and deliberate footsteps that sent shivers down my spine each time I heard them.
I turned my head slightly and found him standing by the window, his broad frame bathing in the glow of the city lights.
His posture was relaxed yet his presence alone made the room feel smaller.
I could feel his gaze on me, even when I didn't meet his eyes.
A long, tense silence stretched between us before he finally spoke.
"You haven't seen me once tonight." He said in a deep, smooth voice.
My throat felt dry and I swallowed hard.
I couldn't reply to him.
Couldn't answer.
He went on, this time there was an edge in his voice. "You hate me, don't you?"
My fingers twitched.
He was waiting for a response. Waiting for me to say something. To lie, maybe.
I could've lied.
I should've lied.
But I was tired. So tired of loving a life that wasn't mine to choose. So…
I told him the truth.
"I never wanted to marry you." I said.
The air grew impossibly still.
Then —
A hollow, butter sound in the form of a quiet chuckle filled the room.
This time, I turned slightly to see his reflection in the vanity mirror. His expression was everything I dreaded — Dark. Piercing. And oh-so-unreadable.
"I see."
My heart hammered in my chest as I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I had someone else."
There.
I said it.
I braced myself for the worst - rage, disgust, anything but Darren remained still like a "bombshell" hadn't been dropped on him.
Instead he murmured. "Of course you did. Of course."
I flinched at the rawness in his voice. He was angry. I could feel it. His anger wasn't the explosive kind my father had, not the violent kind. This was so much worse. It was a slow-burning fury — one that didn't lash out but simmered and seethed.
Without another word, he turned on his heels and walked away. The door slammed shut behind him and just like that, I was like that… I was alone.
That night, I barely slept.
When I awoke, the sun was already high in the sky. My body ached from exhaustion but my mind was too restless to stay in bed.
When Darren left last night, he never came back.
'Good,' I told myself.
The last thing I wanted was to wake up beside him but as I stretched and roared to leave the room, the door swung open.
Standing in his 6 foot glory and clad in a crisp back suit that hugged his broad frame was Darren.
My stomach twisted when I noticed his dark hair was slicked back. It made the scar on the left part of his face stand out even more.
I had been so uncomfortable my entire life.
My gaze dropped.
He was holding something in his hand — a folder.
Without uttering a word, he walked past me and set it on the table.
Then, he pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit. "Let's talk."
I hesitated.
He arched his brow. "Or would you rather I keep you here indefinitely?"
Nope.
That got me moving.
I sat on the chair while he stood.
He slid the folder towards me. "Read it."
I shot him a glance and then at the folder. Then I opened it cautiously and scanned the pages.
I caught the titled heading and my breath caught. "What?"
"Yes." Darren said dryly.
This was a contract.
But it was new.
My eyes flickered to his again. "What is this?"
He just leaned back, studying me. "A deal."
I swallowed, scanning the contents again.
Terms of Agreement:
1. Both parties are to stay married for 2 months.
2. If at the end of the 2 months, Party B (Isadora Giordano) finds Party A (Darren Barlowe) unbearable, they will divorce.
3. No strings attached.
4. Party B will receive enough money to love comfortably for the rest of their life.
I blinked.
This was… unexpected.
"You're giving me an out?" I asked, both confused and elated at the same time.
Darren had an indifferent look on his face as he spoke. "I don't keep unwilling women."
I stared at him, searching for a hidden agenda. There had to be one
He smirked slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I don't keep unwilling women."
I stared at him, searching for a hidden agenda. There had to be one.
I lifted my chin. "And what do you get out of this?"
"Two months to change your mind." His expression remained unchanged but there was a look in his eyes that made my heart flutter.
I stiffened. "Change my mind?"
He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah."
It was impossible. I had already made up my mind.
Darren Barlowe was a monster. I couldn't love him no matter how kind he tried to appear or how wealthy he was.
But —
I looked down at the contract. It was a one-way ticket out of here.
"Party B will receive enough money to love comfortably for the rest of their life."
It had already secured my future. Why not take it?
I reached for the fountain pen. I had no choice besides it wasn't like anything could make me fall in love with him.
Darren's voice flickered as I signed my name at the bottom of the paper.
Darren rose to his feet, adjusting his cufflinks. "Two months, Isadora. Let's see if you can really hate me for that long."
And with that, he walked away, leaving me with nothing but a signed deal and a sinking feeling in my chest.