Chapter 3 The Decision

I stared at the phone in my hand, my in-laws' words echoing in my ears. An arranged marriage. To a billionaire. "The solution to all your problems," they said. But at what cost?

The late afternoon sun filtered through the dusty curtains of my living room, casting long shadows across the worn carpet. I hadn’t bothered to clean in weeks. What was the point when I was about to lose everything anyway?

I paced back and forth, my mind racing. How had my life come to this? Just a year ago, I was happily married, planning for a future with the man I loved. Now, I was a widow, drowning in debt, and considering marrying a stranger to save myself from financial ruin.

"This is insane," I muttered to myself, running a hand through my tangled hair. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror hanging crookedly on the wall. Dark circles under my eyes, pale skin—a shadow of my former self. Was this really what I had become?

The sound of a car door slamming outside made me jump. I peered through the curtains, my heart racing. It was just my neighbor, but the fear lingered. How long before the debt collectors came back? How long before they took everything?

I sank onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. "What would you do, Tom?" I whispered, thinking of my late husband. But Tom wasn’t here. Tom had left me with nothing but memories and a mountain of debt.

The grandfather clock in the corner chimed, startling me. Six o’clock. I had to make a decision. My in-laws were expecting an answer by tonight.

I picked up my phone again, scrolling through the meager information they had sent me about Lachlan Reid. Billionaire. Developer. Philanthropist. Cold eyes stared back at me from a magazine cover. Could I really marry this man?

My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten all day. I walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge out of habit. Empty, save for a half-empty bottle of ketchup and some questionable leftovers. Even if I wanted to eat, there was nothing left.

As I closed the fridge, my eyes fell on the calendar hanging on the wall. Red circles marked the days when bills were due. So many red circles. Too many.

I leaned against the counter, closing my eyes. What choice did I really have? I could refuse this arrangement, watch as everything I had left was taken away. End up on the streets, or worse, crawling back to my parents with my tail between my legs.

Or I could say yes. Marry this stranger. Live a life of luxury. Never worry about money again.

But at what cost to my soul?

I walked back to the living room, picking up the framed photo of Tom and me on our wedding day. We looked so happy, so full of hope for the future. "I’m sorry," I whispered, tracing Tom’s smiling face with my finger. "I’m so sorry."

With shaking hands, I picked up my phone and dialed my mother-in-law’s number. It rang once, twice, three times before she answered.

“Sarah? Have you made your decision?” Her voice was crisp, businesslike. As if she wasn’t asking me to sell myself to a stranger.

I took a deep breath. "Yes," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "I’ll do it. I’ll marry Lachlan Reid."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Good," she said finally. "I’ll make the arrangements. Be ready to meet him tomorrow afternoon."

The line went dead before I could respond. I let the phone fall from my hand, sinking to my knees. What had I just agreed to?

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. I packed a small suitcase, not knowing what I would need in my new life. How does one pack for an arranged marriage to a billionaire? I settled for a few simple outfits, my mother's locket, and the photo of Tom and me. Everything else could stay behind.

As night fell, I found myself unable to sleep. I tossed and turned, my mind racing with possibilities and fears. What if Lachlan was cruel? What if this was all some elaborate joke? What if I was making the biggest mistake of my life?

Around midnight, I gave up on sleep and went to sit by the window. The street below was quiet, the neighborhood asleep. Would I ever see this place again? The thought brought an unexpected lump to my throat.

As the first light of dawn began to creep across the sky, I made myself a cup of coffee—the last of my supplies—and tried to prepare myself mentally for what was to come. In just a few hours, I would be meeting the man who was to be my husband. The man who held my future in his hands.

I showered and dressed carefully, choosing a simple blue dress that brought out my eyes. As I applied a touch of makeup, I hardly recognized the woman staring back at me in the mirror. She looked scared, but determined. Ready to face whatever came next.

At precisely 2 PM, a sleek black car pulled up outside my house. My heart leapt into my throat. This was it. No turning back now.

I took one last look around the house, memories flooding through me. The Christmas mornings with Tom, the lazy Sundays, the dreams we had shared. "Goodbye," I whispered, not sure if I was talking to the house or to my old life.

With my suitcase in hand, I walked out the front door, locking it behind me for what might be the last time. The driver, a stern-faced man in a black suit, took my bag without a word and opened the car door for me.

As I slid into the back seat, the leather cool against my skin, I caught a glimpse of movement in my peripheral vision. A figure, standing in the shadows across the street, watching me. My heart rate spiked. Was it one of the debt collectors? Someone sent by Lachlan?

But before I could get a better look, the car pulled away from the curb, whisking me towards my new life. As my old neighborhood faded from view, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. That somehow, this was all part of a larger plan I couldn’t yet see.

Who was the mysterious figure? And what did they want with me? As the car sped towards my meeting with Lachlan Reid, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had just made a terrible mistake.