AIDEN'S POV

People think being born into money makes life easier.

Oh, they are so wrong.

Money doesn't erase secrets. It just buys better ways to bury them.

I was eight when I realized my family didn't operate on the concept of love. They operated on strategy. Every hug was calculated and every smile had an agenda.

So when my father, Adam Kingston, called me into his office and said, "You are getting married" I didn't flinch at all.

I just asked, "To whom?

"Charlotte Parker," he said, pouring himself a drink from his wine shelf in his office. "Barry Parker's stepdaughter and Dianne's only child."

I sat down, legs crossed, watching the amber liquid swirl in his glass. I recognized the name. Who didn't? The Parkers were once one of our biggest rivals in the industry until they weren't.

"Didn't you bankrupt Barry?" I asked calmly.

I saw the shocked expression on his face before he quickly replaced it with a smile.

"I broke him, piece by piece. Years of precision. And now? He's desperate. Perfect timing. Barry is greedy too."

I didn't respond. I knew better than to question his motives. Adam Kingston never did anything without a ten-year plan attached.

"She's a writer," he continued "Pretty, smart, wasted in that house. But she has your mother's grace and your grandmother's fire."

"So, you have been watching her."

He raised a brow. "We all watch what matters."

I leaned back in my chair. The leather creaked beneath my weight.

"And what do I get out of this?" I asked.

"Becoming the CEO of our company and Barry's company and most importantly A CLEAN SLATE."

Those last three words cut deeper than I expected.

Because no matter how many years passed, or how many stories my PR team covered up, I'd never been able to erase her. My past. The woman I once loved. Or maybe I still love her.

Alana.

Beautiful but toxic. Broken in all ways I refused to see until it was too late.

We married young. Against both our families' wishes. At first, it was passion. Then came the pregnancy... and everything fell apart.

Alana said the baby ruined her. That motherhood wasn't in her plan. That the life inside her was a mistake.

She gave birth to a baby girl. My daughter.

And within minutes, she was gone. The doctors said she died from complications.

When they said Alana had passed, too, due to complications, it didn't add up.

The whole thing felt somehow.

I saw the blood, her body but deep down I knew something else was up.

And when I started digging and asking questions, my family shut it all down.

"It's over," they said. "Let it go"

But I couldn't, I still can't.

So when my father offered me this marriage like it was a key to redemption, I didn't say yes, and I didn't say no either.

Instead, I asked the only question that mattered to me.

"Does she know?"

He shook his head. "She'll find out like you did, eventually."

And that was the thing about arranged marriages. No one ever asks the parties involved if they want to get married.

Two days later I met Charlotte.

She walked into my father's office like a storm dressed in soft fabrics. Tall, graceful, and visibly pissed. Her eyes scanned the room like she was ready to bolt. Like the walls themselves were a trap.

She looked at me like I was the enemy.

Good. I probably was.

"Charlotte," Adam said standing from his leather chair, "Meet Aiden."

Her gaze didn't waver. "I didn't come here to be introduced. I came here to ask why your family thinks my life is a bargaining chip."

I tried not to smile. She had a spine and that was rare around here.

"Nice to meet you too," I said.

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't flatter yourself, this isn't mutual."

"She's bold," I muttered under my breath.

She heard me. Of course she did.

Adam gestured to the chairs, "Sit both of you. We have much to discuss."

I sat first. Charlotte hesitated, then followed suit, like she didn't want to give us satisfaction. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. I could almost feel the force of her dislike radiating across the table.

"You don't want this," she said, turning to me.

"You think I do?" I asked, staring back.

She blinked like she hadn't expected that kind of response from me.

"I don't know you." she continued, voice lower now. " I don't love you and I won't pretend this is anything more than a transaction."

"Good, then we understand each other." I said giving her a smirk.

There was a bit of silence. She shifted in her seat, visibly frustrated but under it all, I could feel something else.

Fear, Exhaustion, and Confusion.

I knew those emotions well.

'I'm not your enemy, Charlotte." I said quietly.

"Then why do you look like an executioner?"

Touché

Adam chuckled like this was entertainment. "You two are perfect for each other."

We both ignored him.

"I don't plan to stay married," she said finally. "I will play along until my family's company is out of the mud. And after that, I'm gone."

I nodded. "Fine by me."

Her voice.

Her honesty.

She's so different and I just couldn't wrap my head around her.

The fire in her eyes reminded me of the man I used to be, before the world broke me.

She brought out some feelings I had buried inside of me over the years.

Feelings I was unsure about too.

And as she stormed out of the office like she hadn't just been handed a future she never asked for, I realized something.

This wasn't going to be a business arrangement.

It was going to be war.

And part of me, the part I thought was dead, was curious enough to see who would win.

CHARLOTTE'S POV

I wasn't sure what I expected when I walked into that room.

Maybe someone arrogant and cold. The type who saw women as part of a checklist. A name, a ring, and a legacy.

But Aiden Kingston wasn't what I imagined, he was worse.

He was calm.

And not the "let's talk this out" kind of calm. The dangerous kind. The kind that said I've seen things you wouldn't survive.

He didn't argue or smile. He didn't try to charm me like most men would when told they'd be marrying a stranger.

Instead, he just looked at me like I was another detail in a long, exhausting list of duties.

Which pissed me off even more.

I wasn't a detail.

And I wasn't his.

Back home, I slammed the door to my room and stared at the ceiling, unsure whether I wanted to scream or cry.

I chose both

A few angry tears slipped down my cheeks, but I wiped them away before they could fully fall.

Weakness wasn't allowed here. Not in Barry's house. Not under Dianne's shadow.

And for what?

A dying company?

A reputation she already ruined years ago?

The betrayal stung more than the deal itself.

Barry, I could understand. He was always about power. Always looking for the next hand to play.

But Mom?

She looked at me like she had already mourned me. Like the version of me she loved had been buried with my father. Maybe it had.

Maybe I died the day she moved on with his brother.

I rolled onto my side, grabbing my phone, instinctively opening my notes app, the only place where my voice still mattered.

> Title: The Deal.

Opening Line: She never imagined her signature would cost her soul.

Mood: Betrayed, trapped, angry.>

I stopped typing.

Because this wasn't fiction anymore.

This was my life.

The next morning, I was summoned again. No "good morning," no "how are you feeling?" Just a cold knock and a clipped voice from Barry's assistant.

"The Kingstons would like you to attend a dinner at their estate tonight at seven sharp. It's a formal dinner.

Like I was some prized puppy being trained for show.

I didn't respond. I just closed the door and stared at my closet.

Formal.

I hated that word. It usually meant stuffing myself into a dress that wasn't made for comfort and pretending I wasn't silently screaming on the inside.

But I picked a dress anyway. A navy blue, off-shoulder, sleek and subtle. Not flashy, not soft. Just enough to remind them I wasn't easy to break.

The Kingston estate was something out of a rich person's fever dream.

Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, glass walls that reflected your thoughts before you even had them. Everything screamed money, but it was too clean. Too curated like a museum that was scared of feeling real.

Aiden was waiting when I walked in, dressed in black. Of course, he probably slept in suits.

He didn't say much, just nodded at me like we were business partners about to sign a merger.

I wanted to stab him with my heel.

Instead, I smiled.

Fake, Poised, and Perfect.

We were led into the dining room, where his father and mother waited, looking like they had stepped straight out of a royal family portrait.

"Charlotte," Adam Kingston said smoothly, rising to greet me. "You look stunning."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Thank you, sir."

"Please, call me Adam. We're family now."

The word made my stomach twist.

Dinner was a blur of silverware, small talk, and veiled warnings disguised as compliments.

"So, Charlotte," his mother said, dabbing her lips with a linen napkin, "What are your views on privacy? Especially once you are married?"

I blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"I mean," she continued, eyes sharp and polite, "Do you believe secrets should stay between husband and wife? Or do you think honesty is always best, no matter the cost?"

Ah, there it was.

I glanced at Aiden, He was expressionless, staring at his plate like it held answers to questions no one dared to ask.

"I think," I said carefully, "that honesty is useless if the person listening is already committed to lying."

There was a pause.

Then Adam laughed. "She's smart. I like that."

Aiden still didn't speak.

When dinner ended, Aiden walked me to the car. The silence between us was thick, buzzing with everything we didn't say.

Just before I stepped in, I turned to him.

"I'm not your puppet," I said.

"I know."

"And I'm not staying quiet. If I find out what this really is ---"

"You will," he cut in, his voice low.

"Eventually."

His eyes met mine, and for a second, I saw something flicker behind them. Pain? Regret? Maybe even a warning.

But then it was gone.

And he stepped back.

"Goodnight Charlotte."

The door closed.

That night, I didn't write anything, I didn't cry, I didn't pace.

I just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how many lies it would take to break a person completely.

Because something told me this marriage wasn't the beginning of a story.

It was the unraveling of one.

And I was stuck inside it.

CHARLOTTE'S POV

It's strange how quickly life can pivot. One day, you are arguing with your mother about a future you don't want, and the next, you are standing before a mirror in a wedding gown that doesn't feel like yours, yet somehow it oddly fits.

I always thought I'd run away if forced into something like this. But here I was, not running, screaming, or fighting.

Just.... accepting.

Maybe it was exhaustion. Or the way Aiden had looked at me the night we signed the marriage agreement. His eyes were quiet, guarded but not cruel. Maybe it was because deep down, I knew there was no going back.

My father's legacy was gone. My mother had made her bed and I was the final pawn left on the board.

So I surrendered, but on my terms.

I would walk into this with my head high, even if my heart dragged behind me.

The morning of the wedding was calm. Too calm. No last-minute protests or soap opera-style objections. Just makeup artists, photographers, and my mother pretending this was every girl's dream.

"You look beautiful," she said, adjusting the veil on my head.

I glanced at her reflection beside mine in the mirror. "Do I look like someone marrying for love?"

She paused, hands frozen. "You look like someone who's ready."

Ready? For what exactly? I didn't even bother to ask.

The ceremony was held at the Kingston estate's garden. Grand and luxurious. The kind of wedding fairy tales had been ghostwritten by a board of directors and filled with silent stares instead of sweet nothings.

Aiden looked sharp, as always. Perfect suit, perfect posture. But his eyes..... they weren't perfect. They were distant, like he was somewhere else.

Still, when he took my hand, there was a spark. A flicker of something real.

"Ready?" he asked under his breath.

I nodded. "Let's do it."

The vows were read, rings exchanged. A kiss that was more political than passionate and then just like that, I was Mrs Charlotte Kingston.

The honeymoon was a blur. Not because it wasn't memorable, but because it felt like someone else was living it. We flew to Santorini. Aiden's choice because I didn't have a say. It was heartbreaking. Not having to get your dream wedding or honeymoon.

We had separate rooms in a villa overlooking the sea. He never imposed, never assumed. Every moment we shared was polite.... careful.

But on the third night, something shifted.

We were sitting on the terrace after dinner, watching the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky with a hundred shades of fire.

"You are not what I expected." He said suddenly.

I turned to him. "What did you expect?"

"A spoiled heiress, a reluctant bride. Someone bitter and angry."

I chuckled. "Oh, I am bitter and angry. But I'm learning to keep it stylish."

He smiled. A real one for the first time since I met him. It changed his entire face. It made his face lit and his eyes pop.

"You surprise me too," I said.

"You are less arrogant than I imagined."

He raised a brow. "Is that a compliment?"

"Quite hard to believe it myself, but yes, it's a compliment." I giggled.

The silence between us grew comfortable. We sat and just enjoyed each other's company. And for the first time, I let myself look at him not as my husband on paper, but as a man. A complicated and guarded man with secrets behind those dark eyes. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the villain I portrayed him to be.

That night, we didn't kiss, nor did we cross any lines. It wasn't the usual honeymoon night where couples spend the night in each other's arms or consummating their wedding.

But when I fell asleep, I dreamed of him.

Moving into Aiden's mansion was a bit scary. Adjusting to a new environment was different for me.

When we got out of the car and entered the mansion, it was as if all the staff knew what to do. They rushed into the living room and arranged.

Aiden clears his throat slightly, his voice calm but distant.

"This is Charlotte."

He paused and continued. "My wife,"

"She will be staying here permanently. Whatever she needs, you give it to her with no questions asked or any delay.

I glanced at him but he didn't look at me.

Elsie, Cheryl, you will make sure her rooms are always in order. If she wants to change anything in the east wing, let her.

The house was too big and quiet. Aiden gave me the east wing of the mansion and said I could decorate it however I wanted.

There were two maids, Elsie and Cheryl, a middle-aged woman, Petra, who is the chef, and coordinates the house. And also lots of securities.

Elsie and Cheryl took my bags and took me to the east wing, and Aiden stayed back to give more instructions to the other staff.

Aiden stayed in the west wing. Most mornings or evenings, we ate together.

I started to notice some things about him. He always drank coffee at 6 a.m. and went to his private gym at 4 a.m. He always stopped at a particular window before leaving the house, like he was trying to remember something.

Sometimes we stare at each other and other times our hands brush over each other.

We weren't in love but I guess we were trying to make it all work. I had hope.

One evening, after a long walk in the garden, I returned to my room to find a gift box on my bed wrapped in a deep green ribbon.

I opened the box and I saw a book. "The Secret Garden." A book I had always loved since I was a child. And inside the box I found a note.

"I remembered you mentioned this once.

Not everything about this has to be a duty.

- Aiden.

My heart gave a small flutter. It was the gift he had given to me. Not a jewelry or perfume. It was a book.

That night, I stood in front of his door for full five minutes before I knocked. He opened the door. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his hair slightly tousled. He looked.... softer.

"I wanted to say thank you," I said.

He nodded. "You are welcome."

There was a long pause. I didn't walk back to my room to avoid the weird silence. Instead, I waited and then I asked.

"Do you ever think we could make this work?"

He didn't answer, he just smiled.

I just walked back to my room smiling. I didn't fall in love with Aiden Kingston that night but I think it's safe to assume that the door to love might be opened a little.

I hope he thinks so too.