Alice’s POV

‎“You are getting married to Victor Arc soon.”

‎My father’s voice was calm.....too calm for the storm those words unleashed inside me.

‎For a moment, I just stared at him.

‎My lips parted, but nothing came out.

‎My heart slammed hard against my ribs like it wanted to escape.

‎“W-what?” I finally whispered.

‎“Who?”

‎“Victor Arc,” my father repeated, folding his arms as if this was a normal conversation. “He brought a letter to the house. It states that you and him were engaged as children and should be married when you turn twenty-five.”

‎The room suddenly felt too small.

‎Too hot.

‎Too suffocating.

‎“A letter?” I echoed, my voice barely mine.

‎I had never heard of such a thing. Never.

‎“He said his father told him about it before he died. Though, I was not aware there was a letter like this but I believe it's from my friend because it's his handwriting and the letter looks old,” Dad continued. “Mark Arc was my best friend once… before we fought over that land. After that, everything fell apart. Our friendship ended and your uncle disappeared leaving me and you all alone. It has not been easy for me, you know. This marriage is going to grant me a son, a son I can talk to.” His eyes brighten as he said the last sentence.

‎I swallowed hard.

‎Getting married to Victor?

‎That would be the worst thing that could ever happen to me.

‎…Wouldn’t it?

‎You might be wondering why there’s such bitterness between us.

‎Victor Arc was my childhood friend.

‎No… more than that.

‎He was my first crush.

‎Back then, it was always the three of us.... Victor, Evans Moss, and me.

‎We were inseparable.

‎I can still remember the laughter echoing in Victor’s compound, the way we’d run until we were breathless. Those were the happiest days of my childhood.

‎Our parents were close too… until the land dispute.

‎After that, everything changed.

‎I was no longer allowed to visit Victor’s house.

‎I still remember the night my father told me.

‎I cried myself to sleep, my hands clutching my pillow as if that would somehow bring my best friend back.

‎At first, Victor had only been like a big brother to me.

‎But when I grew older… something shifted.

‎I began to notice the way my heart raced whenever he called my name.

‎How my cheeks burned when he smiled at me.

‎How my stomach fluttered when he winked.

‎And whenever he stood close to me, I felt… safe.

‎Like nothing bad in the world could ever reach me.

‎Victor wasn’t just my friend back then.

‎He was my whole world.

‎“But that was years ago,” I muttered, folding my arms tightly across my chest as if I could shield myself from the past. “I know better now. I won’t let myself get tangled with him again… especially not now that he’s… promiscuous.”

‎The word tasted bitter on my tongue.

‎Different women on his arm every day. I knew. I had seen the photos.

‎Not stalking… just following him on social media.

‎My father’s voice cut through my thoughts like a blade.

‎“And now, I want to honour my late friend’s wishes. The letter is authentic. I trust Victor and I gain a son who will take care of my daughter and my empire. So you must get married to Victor Arc after your twenty-fifth birthday.”

‎His words yanked me back to the present. My stomach dropped.

‎“But Dad…” My voice came out smaller than I intended. “I don’t love him. I barely even know him now. He’s not the same Victor you knew.”

‎My father leaned back in his chair, studying me carefully.

‎“How do you know he’s not the same Victor?”

‎My throat tightened. I opened my mouth… then closed it again.

‎Because I had no answer I could say out loud.

‎“Well?” he pressed.

‎“I’m not marrying him,” I grumbled, my nails digging into my palm.

‎He sighed, the kind that meant the conversation was already over.

‎“Since you have nothing to say, you will marry him. So get ready.”

‎Heat rushed to my face. I spun on my heel and stormed out of the study, my vision blurred with anger.

‎And promptly walked straight into something solid.

‎“Oof....”

‎Not a wall.

‎A chest.

‎Warm. Firm. Breathing.

‎My hands were pressed against it. Slowly, I looked up.

‎Victor.

‎For a second, the world went completely still.

‎I hadn’t seen him in ten years… not in person.

‎But he looked… bigger. Sharper. More dangerous. His jaw was harder, his shoulders broader, his eyes darker.....yet painfully familiar.

‎He stared at me like he’d been expecting this moment.

‎“Hello, Allie. Long time.”

‎He winked.

‎My traitorous face flushed instantly, just like it used to when I was younger.

‎I hated that my body remembered him before my mind could protest.

‎I shoved him away, harder than necessary.

‎“I am NOT getting married to you,” I snapped.

‎He didn’t move. Didn’t even look offended.

‎Instead, that slow, confident smile spread across his face.

‎“Oh, my little Allie…” he said softly. “You will get married to me.”

‎My heart slammed violently against my ribs at the nickname.

‎No one had called me that in years.

‎“No, Victor. I will never marry you,” I shot back, my voice shaking despite my effort to sound firm. “You’re promiscuous. Wicked. And completely terrible.”

‎He raised a brow, amused.

‎“Promiscuous?” he repeated, chuckling under his breath.

‎“What made you say that?”

‎His eyes sparkled with mischief.

‎“Have you been stalking me?”

‎“That’s not....” I stopped myself, clenching my fists.

‎Bloody hell, that smile.

‎It did ridiculous, embarrassing things to my stomach.

‎Victor was devastatingly handsome.... and worse, he knew it.

‎I felt heat creep up my neck.

‎I brushed past him quickly before he could see how flustered I was and rushed into my room, shutting the door behind me.

‎I collapsed onto the bed, pressing a hand to my chest.

‎“Calm down,” I whispered to my racing heart. “Calm down…”

‎Through the wall, I could hear Victor’s voice drifting from my father’s study.

‎Laughter followed.

‎I stared at the ceiling, confusion twisting inside me.

‎Victor had always treated me like a little sister.

‎So where was this marriage coming from?

‎He could have ignored the letter. Destroyed it. Forgotten it.

‎So why now?

‎Why bring it back after all these years?

‎I swallowed hard.

‎What is he planning?

‎

Victor’s POV

‎My world ended nine years ago.

‎Sometimes I still feel it....the exact moment everything split in two. Before… and after.

‎Before, I had a family. Friends. Laughter in the house.

‎It started as a simple land dispute. But it ended with my parents dead… and a third body burnt beyond recognition in the ruins of our home.

‎I remember standing there as a boy, my fists clenched so tightly my nails cut into my palms. The air smelled like ash and melted metal. Men spoke around me, voices low and cautious, but all I could hear was the roar of the fire replaying in my head.

‎Till today, no one knows who that third body belonged to.

‎I’ve spent years searching. Pulling strings. Paying people. Threatening others.

‎Nothing.

‎The body was destroyed beyond recognition....as if someone wanted it that way.

‎After my parents died, my grandfather took me in. He didn’t raise me with bedtime stories or comfort. He raised me with rules, discipline… and truth.

‎That was when I learned about the family business.

‎The Mafia.

‎I still remember the first time he said the word. I felt something inside me crack.... and something darker take its place. From that day on, I stopped being a boy and started becoming the man I am now.

‎A man with blood on his hands.

‎A man feared in rooms he hasn’t even entered yet.

‎A man who learned that mercy is expensive… and weakness gets you buried.

‎But no matter how powerful I become, one thing hasn’t changed.

‎My parents’ deaths are still a mystery.

‎And I will uncover the truth.

‎That is why I must marry Alice Smith.

‎The only girl I ever truly loved.

‎…At least, I did once.

‎Now? I’m not sure I know what love feels like anymore.

‎My life is chaos......women, deals, enemies, blood, money. Nothing stays long enough to matter.

‎Except her.

‎Alice is one of the few good memories from my childhood. One of the few things untouched by the darkness swallowing my life.

‎But everything changed the night my house burned.

‎I can still remember how I felt when I saw her lying unconscious at my gate.

‎I remember running toward her, my heartbeat slamming against my ribs. I remember dropping to my knees beside her, shaking her shoulders, calling her name. Her skin was cold. Her face streaked with soot.

‎What was she doing there?

‎That question has followed me for nine years.

‎I’ve tried to approach her many times. Tried to start the conversation. Tried to demand answers.

‎But every single time, I stop.

‎Because this isn’t a question I can ask without a plan.

‎And I never move without a plan.

‎This marriage will give me that chance.

‎It will put her close enough that she won’t be able to run from the truth.

‎

‎And yes…

‎The letter is fake.

‎My father never arranged any marriage between us.

‎No promises were written. No agreement was made.

‎I forged it.

‎Perfectly.

‎Because sometimes the only way to uncover the truth…

‎is to force fate’s hand.

‎

‎Alice’s voice drifted through the half-open door.

‎“I'm not going to marry him.”

‎I stilled in the hallway.

‎Her father’s voice came sharp and heavy. “You must. A promise is a promise.”

‎A chair scraped. Footsteps thundered.

‎The study door burst open and Alice stormed out....straight into me.

‎She hit my chest with a soft thud.

‎My hands instinctively caught her arms to steady her.

‎For a second, neither of us moved.

‎She looked up.

‎Mu breath caught.

‎Nine years… and she was still the girl who could knock the air from my lungs without trying.

‎Her fingers were still pressed against my chest. I wondered if she could feel how violently my heart was beating.

‎“Hello, Allie,” I said softly, a crooked smile forming. I added a playful wink, masking the sudden rush of nerves. “Long time.”

‎Colour flooded her cheeks instantly.

‎The sight hit me harder than i expected.

‎God… she still blushes.

‎“I am not getting married to you,” she snapped, though her voice wavered slightly.

‎I tilted my head, amused, but there was a faint ache behind my smile.

‎“Oh, my little Allie,” I murmured, the old nickname slipping out before I could stop it. “You will marry me.”

‎I watched her closely, searching her face for any sign the name still meant something to her.

‎“I will never marry you!” she shot back. Her hands clenched at her sides. “You’re promiscuous, wicked, and terrible.”

‎The words struck.

‎For a brief moment, something raw flickered in my eyes....hurt, sharp and unexpected.

‎But i swallowed it, letting a teasing grin replace it.

‎“Ah… promiscuous?” i echoed lightly, folding my arms. “What made you say that?”

‎I leaned closer, lowering my voice playfully.

‎“Have you been stalking me?”

‎Her eyes widened in outrage.

‎“That’s not.... I don’t....”

‎I smiled fully this time, and for a heartbeat she froze, clearly thrown off balance.

‎Then her expression hardened again. She shoved past me, shoulder brushing mine, and disappeared into a room down the hall. A door slammed.

‎I exhaled slowly, staring after her.

‎She still affects me.

‎I rubbed the back of my neck, forcing myself to focus, then turned and walked into the study.

‎“Mr. Smith,” i greeted respectfully.

‎Alice’s father looked up, relief softening his face. “Victor, my boy. How are you?”

‎“Fine, sir.” i stepped forward, posture straightening, voice turning serious. “I need your help.”

‎Mr. Smith frowned slightly. “What do you need, my boy?”

‎I hesitated just long enough to feel the weight of what i was about to say.

‎Then i met the older man’s eyes.

‎“I need Alice’s inheritance.”

‎Silence crashed into the room.

‎Mr. Smith’s face stiffened.

‎“What?”

‎

‎Alice’s POV

‎It had been four days since Dad dropped the bombshell about my marriage to Victor.

‎Four days… and the words still didn’t feel real.

‎I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, twisting the edge of my bedsheet between my fingers. In just one month, I would be twenty-five. Normally, my birthday was the one day of the year I looked forward to the most. Dad and Uncle always made it magical.

‎My chest tightened.

‎Uncle.

‎A dull ache settled in my throat as I turned onto my side and hugged my pillow. He had disappeared without a trace. No warning. No explanation. Just… gone. We searched everywhere. Asked everyone. Nothing.

‎I swallowed hard.

‎I hope you’re alive… wherever you are.

‎“Uncle, where are you?” I whispered into the empty room.

‎My phone buzzed loudly on the bedside table, making me jump. I wiped at my eyes before grabbing it.

‎“Hello, Evans. How’re you doing?” I tried to sound normal.

‎There was a pause.

‎“Alice… who am I to you?”

‎I frowned, sitting up. “What’s wrong? My best friend, of course.”

‎“Then why,” his voice tightened, “am I reading a magazine right now with your face and Victor Arc’s face on the front page announcing your engagement and wedding?”

‎My stomach dropped.

‎“Oh no…” I slapped a hand over my forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell Evans.”

‎“Evans, dear, I’m so sorry,” I said quickly, pacing the room now. “I was going to tell you when I had the chance. I’ve just been so busy.”

‎“Busy doing what, Alice?” His voice rose slightly. “This is the kind of news I should hear from you first. It’s your wedding. And to my ex–best friend, too. You know I know everything about you.”

‎Guilt prickled under my skin.

‎I stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, sighing. “Evans… I’ve been trying to convince Dad not to agree to the wedding.”

‎A pause.

‎“Why?”

‎I pushed off the wall, frustration bubbling up. “What do you mean why? Victor is not the boy we grew up with. He’s changed.”

‎“Really?” Evans said slowly. “How do you know that? You haven’t spoken to him in years.”

‎I hesitated, then muttered, “I follow him on social media.”

‎“And?”

‎“And I see the women he’s always with,” I snapped, my free hand clenching into a fist. “Different ladies every time. Parties. Trips. Rumors. He’s a playboy, Evans. I can’t marry a playboy.”

‎The words left my mouth, but instead of relief, my chest felt heavier.

‎Because deep down… I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince Evans…

‎...or myself.

‎I hear Evans laughing softly on the other end of the call, and I roll my eyes, though a reluctant smile tugs at my lips.

‎“You have always been in love with him, Alice. Please stop deceiving yourself,” Evans says gently. “I remember when we were little. You used to blush whenever you saw him… or when he called your name. You kept every gift, every birthday card he gave you.”

‎His voice softens.

‎“Marry him, Alice. You both deserve each other.”

‎I stop walking beside the grocery shelves and grip my phone tighter.

‎“No, we don’t deserve each other,” I mutter, shaking my head even though he can’t see me. “I just told you who he is. A playboy. I’m not ready to be heartbroken again.”

‎‎“At least you didn’t deny that you still love him.”

‎A short, disbelieving laugh escapes me.

‎“Love? I was a teenager. It was a crush. Hormones, Evans. That’s all.”

‎‎Evans laughs again, warm and knowing.

‎“Well… just give him a chance. He deserves it, you know. Our parents were the ones who separated you back then. It wasn’t exactly Victor’s fault.”

‎I frown, shifting the basket on my arm.

‎“Wait… why are you speaking up for him? I thought you were my best friend. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

‎“Alice,” he says softly, “I’ve known you since we were kids. I watched you grow into this beautiful, stubborn woman. I know your heart. What you felt for Victor — and what you still feel — isn’t a crush. It’s love.

‎So my advice, my dear best friend… give him a chance. Just think about it, okay?”

‎‎I exhale slowly, my resistance weakening just a little.

‎

‎“Okay, Evans. I need to go. I’m shopping for groceries.”

‎

‎“Alright. Bye… love you.”

‎

‎“Love you too.”

‎I end the call.

‎

‎The moment the line goes dead, a strange feeling crawls over my skin — like someone is watching me.

‎

‎I turn.

‎

‎Victor stands a few steps away, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on me with that unreadable, amused expression.

‎

‎My stomach drops.

‎

‎Great. Just great.

‎

‎“Allie,” he says, voice low and smooth, “who was that on the phone?”

‎

‎I lift my chin. “None of your business.”

‎

‎He arches a brow, taking a slow step closer.

‎

‎“Young lady, you don’t speak to your husband-to-be that way.”

‎

‎My chest tightens with irritation.

‎“You are not — and will never be — my husband-to-be.”

‎

‎Victor chuckles, the sound deep and annoyingly confident.

‎

‎“My dear Allie, your father has already given me the go-ahead to start making preparations.”

‎He leans slightly closer, lowering his voice.

‎“As we speak, our wedding venue is booked.”

‎

‎“What?” My eyes widen. “But—”

‎

‎“But what?” he interrupts calmly. “I told you, you are getting married to me. Whoever you were speaking to had better get it into his thick head that he’s flirting with another man’s future wife.”

‎

‎His gaze darkens slightly.

‎“I don’t want to have to fight anyone for you, my love. You belong to me. Body. Soul. Spirit.”

‎

‎Heat rushes through me — anger first, then something far more dangerous.

‎

‎“I belong to myself,” I snap. “Booking a venue when the bride hasn’t said yes is a failure on your part, Victor.”

‎

‎“Oh, she’ll say yes,” he replies softly, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Very soon. Especially after she sees my surprise.”

‎

‎My heart stumbles.

‎

‎“What surprise, Victor?”

‎

‎He only smiles wider.

‎

‎“Don’t worry, my little Allie. You’ll see it very soon.”

‎

‎I glare at him, pulse racing.

‎

‎“Don’t play games with me, Victor. I’m not one of your playthings.”

‎

‎He tilts his head, eyes glinting with mischief.

‎

‎“Oh, definitely you are.”

‎His voice drops to a near whisper.

‎“You’re my favorite plaything.”

‎

‎My breath catches. Heat floods my cheeks before I can stop it.

‎

‎I turn quickly and walk away, pretending I don’t hear his quiet, satisfied laughter behind me.

‎

‎He better not be playing games with me.

‎

‎As I push my cart forward, my thoughts whirl.

‎

‎What is he planning?

‎What could that surprise be?

‎

‎I shake my head, trying to dismiss the uneasy flutter in my chest.

‎

‎I’m not getting married to Victor.

‎I just need to find a way to convince Dad.

‎

‎…Or—

‎

‎I hesitate, fingers tightening on the cart handle.

‎

‎Should I give him a chance…

‎just like Evans advised?

‎