Stories always begin with a man and woman falling in love. What an unlucky woman I am, for mine begins with me hating my husband.
I'm Lara. In my husband's words, "wild."
I come from a place quite opposite to my husband's luxurious metropolitan life. The countryside...
Once upon a time, the heir to a large livestock company fell in love with one of the company's veterinarians. That's how my story begins. My mother was, in every sense, an Amazon woman: she rode horses, loved animals, and had an eternally stubborn personality. My father was simply a fool in love, swept away by her wind.
A typical scenario, really. My father confessed his feelings to my mother, chased after her, and eventually they fell in love. But my father's wealthy family didn't approve of such a relationship. Like a true lover, my father abandoned his company and all his wealth to marry my mother. Years later, his family, believing in their love, reconciled with him, and my father returned to head the company. My mother, however, never belonged to that world. She treated the townspeople's farm animals for free and worked with many charity organizations. When she finally learned she was pregnant, she devoted her entire life to me.
It was my mother who raised me this way: rebellious, wild, and like a boy! For years, I thought this was a gift, something to be proud of. Living on the farm, riding horses, being able to handle any difficult task... For me, it was something to boast about.
But time didn't always pass so beautifully.
When I turned nineteen, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. She fought, but she lost. After losing her, my father and I felt incomplete somehow. Only then did we realize what a large part of us she had been.
It was much harder for my father. That was the first time I saw how a man could devote himself and mourn endlessly.
Two more years passed, and I lost my father too, a victim of the heartache brought by this grief.
Now I was truly alone. Or so I thought...
My father had a partner who managed his companies a man who had been his childhood friend. I'd heard his name for years, but since they lived in the city, we'd never had the chance to meet.
One day he appeared with a lawyer and a letter in hand. What was written in the letter shocked me. A few weeks before his death, my father had written these lines as if he could see this day coming.
Hello Lara,
If this letter has reached you, then you are now alone in this world. I'm so sorry for that, my daughter...
I know you're strong, but I don't want you to spend the rest of your life stuck on that farm. I want you to see that there are other places, other lives in the world. That's why I'm leaving you to my most trusted friend, David.
Years ago, he promised that if I couldn't find a suitable groom, he would marry you to his son. Today, he came to keep that promise.
If I give you a choice, I'm afraid you'll grow old on that farm. We cannot live with memories alone, Lara!
So say yes to this marriage. I want you to stay married for one year. If you don't fall in love with each other during that time, kick him to the curb and find someone else. But until then, learn about city life, my daughter.
Learn to survive!
I love you,
Your Father...
Thinking about it now, my father was right. Left to my own devices, I would never have had the courage to leave that farm. Especially if I'd seen the ugly face of this world, I would have run back without looking behind me. But now I've learned to be strong. As they say, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
That day, I went with David to Whitmore Manor. A grand manor, gleaming marble, luxurious furniture, a large swimming pool, and many servants. Theoretically, he owned fewer shares than my father. That day proved to me just how vast a fortune my father actually possessed. But apparently, my father had chosen the farm life with my mother. Because my mother was in love with that place. And my father was in love with my mother.
The lady of the manor greeted me with great courtesy. Evelyn! Ahh, she's such a sweet woman that she reminds me of my mother in this life.
And then I saw him.
The demon I was going to marry…
His tall frame, athletic build, strikingly handsome face… He looked like an angel. But from the very first glance, I knew he was anything but.
That day, he stood at the bottom of the manor's long staircase, hands in his pockets, staring at me with a cold, unyielding gaze. He didn't even wait to be introduced. His eyes drifted over my worn-out boots and simple gardener's overalls. The chill in his stare felt like it was scraping against my skin.
"So this is… the Wildling my father picked up from the countryside," he said, putting extra venom into the word Wildling, turning it into an insult.
"Let's get one thing straight. This marriage is nothing but a piece of paper. You stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours. So don't expect a welcome kiss."
Can someone belittle you with just a look?
Ah yes! he absolutely can.
Because he is the great Kyle Whitmore…
I'm not going to skip what comes next. Because everything that happened shaped the woman I am today. I buried that naïve country girl inside me, shoveled dirt over her, and walked away.
And this… is my story.