KIER

“Welcome back, fam! Live and loud from the city’s hottest spot!” I tilted my phone toward the crowd, pulsing lights, bass shaking the floor. The chat exploded with heart emojis and comments drooling over me.

I leaned back in the VIP booth, black shirt half-buttoned, glass of champagne in hand. “You’re watching the Kier Blackwood channel, the life you can’t afford but love to watch,” I said with a smirk.

The comments poured in. Kier, you’re a god! Notice me! What’s tonight’s drink?

“Champagne,” I said, raising my glass. “The expensive kind not that store-bought nonsense.” Laughter erupted from the two models beside me. I kissed one of them long enough for the stream to lose its mind, then ended the live.

The next thing I knew, my alarm was screaming in my ear. My skull felt like it had been stomped on by an elephant. I hurled the clock at the wall. “Shut up!”

I rolled over and froze. The body beside me was clothed. And solid.

“I don’t like being groped, Kieran,” came a deep male voice.

I shot upright. “What the hell, Damon?” My driver slash bodyguard. On my bed.

“Your guests were escorted out, sir. On your father’s order.”

Before I could curse him out, the door opened. My father filled the doorway like bad news in a suit. “Get dressed. We need to talk.”

Five minutes later, I was half awake, staring across the table as he dropped a bombshell.

“You’re getting married to Genesis Caldwell. Tomorrow.”

I spat my juice. “You’re joking.”

His expression said otherwise. “No. You’ll marry her, or you lose everything, the money, the penthouse, the company.”

“What? You can’t just…”

“Oh, I can. You’re almost thirty, Kier. No discipline, no focus. You’ll marry her and give me an heir.”

“An heir?” I repeated, my voice cracking. “Dad, I don’t even want a dog!”

He ignored me, sliding a photo across the counter. A girl, maybe from years ago. Not familiar.

“She’s not a teenager,” he said before I could speak. “You knew her as a kid. Genesis Caldwell. You’ll remember her.”

I stared at the photo, something tugging at the edge of my mind, a ghost from another life.

“I’m not doing this,” I said quietly.

He stood, straightening his jacket. “Tomorrow, you will. And trust me, she’s not someone you’ll forget twice.”

The door shut behind him. I sat there, hangover forgotten, heart pounding like a drum.

Married. Tomorrow.

To a stranger I might already know.

GENESIS

The pen slipped in my sweaty hand as I signed the paper.

That was it. I was married to a man who hadn’t even looked at me twice.

Kier Blackwood stood beside me like he was waiting for a meeting to end. He was late, distant, and clearly disgusted to be here. When his eyes did meet mine, it wasn’t hate I saw. It was something colder, disappointment. Like he’d ordered gold and got dust instead.

The judge’s words blurred. I just stared at the rings, the papers, my trembling hands. Everything inside me screamed that this wasn’t real.

But it was.

I caught sight of Monica standing at the back of the courtroom, her lips twisted in fury. Jimmy and Mark beside her, arms folded, watching like they were witnessing my punishment.

Her words from last night flashed through my head her voice sharp as broken glass:

“How dare he think he can waltz back into your life?”

The slap. The flying vase. The sting still burned on my cheek.

Now here I was, wearing a ring instead of a bruise. Bound to a man I didn’t even know.

Kier’s father, Donald, stood near the exit, his face unreadable. But for a second, I saw it, guilt. His eyes softened, like he knew he’d just ruined two lives.

Then Kier turned and walked out. No goodbye, no glance. Just gone.

Outside, I trailed behind him to a sleek black car. He opened the passenger door without a word. The gesture was polite, but cold, like a stranger holding a door out of habit.

I climbed in, my stomach twisting. The silence between us was a storm waiting to break.

His hand tightened on the steering wheel, jaw clenched. Then suddenly, he lifted a hand and I flinched, ducking fast, covering my head.

“Yo…what the hell? I’m not gonna touch you,” he said, voice sharp but shocked.

I froze, still half-curled in defense. My breath came out shaky.

“Breathe,” he said softer. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I lowered my arm slowly, face burning. Shame prickled under my skin.

He sighed, tapping the wheel. “Look, I don’t know if this whole thing shocked you as much as it did me, but it’s not gonna last. We just… need to give my dad his heir, then we go our separate ways.”

I nodded too quickly, clutching my dress like a lifeline.

He frowned, muttering, “Getting that heir’s gonna be harder than I thought.”

The words hit harder than the slap last night. My chest tightened, and my eyes dropped to my thin hands, to the dull strands of hair in my lap.

If I were him, I wouldn’t want me either.

Maybe if I told him to turn off the lights… it’d be easier for both of us.

KIER

Three days later — Family Estate Mansion

“Y–Young Master,” Richard called out just as I was about to step into my car.

I paused, hand on the door handle, jaw tightening. Not this again.

I turned slowly. “What is it, Richard?”

He fidgeted, eyes darting like he was searching for the right words. “It’s about your wife, sir.”

My patience was already thinning. “What about her?”

“She hasn’t left her room since she arrived,” he said, voice low. “Barely eats. Doesn’t talk. The maids are... worried.”

I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. “She can’t talk, remember? And if she’s eating, even a little, she’s fine. Let her sulk.”

“Young Master, it’s been three days,” he said, almost pleading. “She doesn’t even open the curtains. She also doesn't…”

I opened the car door with a sharp click. “That’s her problem, not mine.”

Richard flinched at the sound, his mouth pressing into a thin line. I ignored him and slid behind the wheel. This whole marriage was a mess I never asked for, a contract signed in my father’s study, not at an altar.

Now I had to run his empire too, pretend to be the perfect son, the perfect husband.

The drive to work was short, but every minute felt like a slow grind against my nerves. By the time I pulled into the company’s lot, I was already tired.

Employees lined up at the entrance, bowing slightly as if I were some prince. I didn’t even glance at them. Inside, my father stood waiting, his hands behind his back, gaze as cold as ever.

“You’re on time,” he said without looking at me.

“Barely,” I muttered.

He started his speech before we even reached the elevator, numbers, reports, expectations. The boardroom was full of stiff suits and empty words. I sat there, nodding when necessary, pretending to care.

But my thoughts kept drifting back to the mansion.

Why was she doing this? Was it fear? Spite? Or just her way of making me feel guilty? I didn’t even remember her name without checking the damn marriage certificate.

Still, something about the thought of her locked away in silence made my chest tighten, a feeling I didn’t want to name.

“Kier,” my father snapped suddenly, pulling me out of my head. “Are you listening?”

“Yes,” I lied, straightening in my seat.

“Good. Because you’ll be handling tomorrow’s investor meeting.”

“Fine,” I said, though I barely heard him. I just wanted the day to end.

By the time I left the office, dusk had swallowed the city. The ride home was quiet, but my head wasn’t. The echo of Richard’s voice lingered.

When I pulled up to the mansion, he was there again, standing by the door like he’d been waiting all day. His face said it all before he spoke.

“She still hasn’t come out,” he said quietly.

Something in me shifted, not pity, not worry, just an uneasy feeling crawling up my spine.

I dropped my keys on the table and headed upstairs. The air in the hallway felt heavy, still. Even the servants’ whispers had stopped.

I stopped at her door. Knocked once. “It’s Kier. Open up.”

Silence.

I knocked harder. “If you’re going to hide, at least eat properly. You’re not a ghost yet.”

Still nothing.

My irritation flared. I grabbed the knob and twisted. The door swung open without resistance.

That’s when I smelled it, faint at first, then thick and sour, like something rotting beneath perfume.

My stomach clenched.

“What the hell…” I muttered, flicking on the light.

And then I froze.