Chapter 2 02

Chapter 2

"Of course."

"Do you know Mr. Miller?" My father asks, his tone so cold and professional. I nod without speaking, sensing where this is going. "Well, we've agreed on a peace offering."

I force a small smile, not fully understanding the weight of his words. "Really? That's great! Finally, after all these years, there can be peace between us. I'm so happy," I cheer, hoping my voice conveys some of the excitement I'm supposed to feel.

But then, his eyes narrow slightly, a gleam of something unreadable flashing across his face. "But there's a catch..."

I pause, tilting my head to the side, waiting for him to elaborate. The excitement fades from my chest, replaced by a sudden, deep sense of unease. "What kind of catch?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

"You are going to marry him," he says bluntly.

I stare at him in shock. My mouth hangs open as I try to process his words. "What?" I croak, unable to believe what I just heard.

I stand up, the chair scraping loudly against the carpet as I push it away. The next thing I know, I'm on the floor, my knees weak beneath me. I stare at my father, unable to form coherent words. "Claudia, let's be rational about this," he says, his voice still so detached, so cold, as if he's merely discussing the weather.

"Rational?" I choke, my voice rising with each word. "How am I supposed to be rational when you're selling me off to get married for a treaty? I'm only 18 years old! Couldn't Amelia do it? She's older!"

Tears blur my vision as I collapse to the floor, the weight of it all crushing me. My father watches me for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I asked him to choose who he wants to marry, and he chose you. So no, it can't be Amelia."

I can't believe this is happening. My heart races as I look up at him, my eyes burning with tears I don't want to shed, but I can't hold them back. "But Amelia's older!" I shout, my voice desperate, broken. "Why don't I get a say?"

My father sighs, clearly irritated. He steps closer, his voice sharp. "You don't get a say because you will do this in honor of our family and the company. You are 18 years old, so you do not get a say." His words cut through me like a knife, each one leaving a gash deeper than the last.

"THAT'S WHAT THIS IS ABOUT?!" I exclaim, my emotions spiraling. "You care more about honor and the company than your own daughter?" I can feel the anger bubbling up inside me, hot and fierce, as I stand up. "You're willing to ruin my life just to keep up appearances?"

"Stop putting words in my mouth, Claudia," he snaps, his tone cold and unyielding. His anger matches mine, but it only fuels my own.

I shake my head, my chest tight with the weight of it all. "I will not marry a man who is five years older than me. I have my whole life ahead of me, and you're giving it away. I HATE YOU!" I scream, my voice cracking with the intensity of my emotions.

The words hang heavy in the air, and for a moment, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction. But then, my father's anger flares. He slams his fist against the desk, making me flinch.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" he roars, his voice booming through the room. His glare pins me in place, but I refuse to back down. "You will be marrying him. You will comply. You will honor. You will be respectful. And you will meet him in five days."

His words are like a sentence, a cold decree that I can't escape. The weight of his demands presses down on me, suffocating me. I want to scream, to run, to do anything to escape this nightmare, but I know I can't. Not when my life is no longer my own.

"Why is he doing this?" I think, my heart breaking. "He cares about a treaty more than my life. More than my happiness."

Tears fill my eyes once again, but this time, they burn hotter. My fists clench at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. I can't breathe, I can't think. I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of expectations, of demands, and of a future I didn't choose. I hate him for doing this to me.

"I hate you," I whisper, my voice barely audible, but it carries the weight of everything I've been feeling. "I wish you were never my father."

Without another word, I turn and walk toward the door, my legs shaky beneath me. I can barely hear his voice calling after me, demanding I come back, but I don't stop. I slam the wooden doors behind me with all the force I can muster, my heart racing in my chest.

I run down the hallway, my footsteps loud in the silent house. I don't stop until I reach my room, and as soon as the door is closed behind me, I collapse onto my bed. The tears come in full force now, pouring down my face in heavy streams as I bury my face in the pillow.

I'm getting married to a man I've never met. A man who is four years older than me. A man who might as well be a stranger. I want to scream, to shout, to run away from it all, but I know that's not an option. Not when I have no freedom, no voice in my own life.

I close my eyes tightly, trying to block out the thoughts racing through my mind. I can't do this. I don't want to do this. But what choice do I have? If I run, my father will find me. Isaac Miller will find me. And they will ruin my life without a second thought. They already have, and I haven't even met him yet.

The knock on my door jolts me from my thoughts. I don't answer. I want to be left alone. I hear the door creak open, and then footsteps enter the room.

"Go away, Dad," I mutter, my voice hoarse from crying.

But the footsteps don't stop. The figure at the door steps closer, and I can feel their presence looming over me. My father's voice comes next, low and steady, but there's a hint of something I don't recognize. "Claudia, you need to understand. This isn't just about you. It's about the family, the company, and what's best for all of us."

I shake my head, refusing to look at him. I don't want to hear any more of his excuses. The reality of what's happening is more than I can bear. I just want to forget. I want to forget that my life has been decided for me, that I have no say in my future, that I'm about to marry a man I don't even know.

But I don't get that luxury.

"Claudia, look at me," my father's voice softens. But I won't give him the satisfaction. I won't let him see the tears that still stream down my face.

I close my eyes, my heart aching. What has my life become?