Marrying my enemy

AMARA VESPER

The perfume of wealth clung to the air, sweet and suffocating. Chandeliers spilled golden light over the ballroom, igniting diamonds and gold threaded through designer gowns. The Vesper name shimmered everywhere-in whispered reverence, in the very marrow of this gala. My father's legacy. My burden.

I gripped the podium, the weight of my father's ring cold against my skin, grounding me. A room full of power brokers stared back at me, their faces masks of civility. Beneath them lay sharp edges, waiting for the first stumble.

"My father, Ezra Vesper, built this company on integrity and innovation," I said, forcing my voice to be steady despite the knot in my stomach. "As the new CEO, I will honor that vision, with all of you by my side."

Polite applause rippled through the room, but I felt the cracks beneath it-the skepticism, the waiting. Always waiting for me to fail.

My stomach twisted, but I smiled anyway, stepping down from the stage and into the crowd of well-wishers. Handshakes and hollow congratulations surrounded me, their words blurring together in a haze of pleasantries. I forced myself to nod, to smile, to be the perfect daughter of Ezra Vesper.

Then I saw them. A cluster of investors, their heads bent together, the glow of their phones illuminating their grim expressions. Something shifted in the air. My stomach twisted.

Excusing myself, I pushed through the crowd. One glance at their screens, and the floor seemed to vanish beneath me.

VESPER HEIRESS ACCUSED OF CORPORATE SABOTAGE-STOCKS PLUMMET.

My own face stared back at me beneath the headline, frozen in some damning snapshot I didn't remember taking. My hands shook as I scrolled through the article, the accusations hitting like punches: leaked documents, insider sabotage, plummeting stock prices. My name dragged through the mud in real time.

This wasn't just an attack-it was annihilation..

My stomach turned as the crowd around me began to shift, murmurs swelling like a rising tide.

Sabotage? Stock prices plummeting?

I had only just taken over, and already they were tearing me down. They'd always wondered if I could handle it, if a woman could fill her father's shoes, and now I'd handed them their answer on a silver platter.

"Amara!" Emery's voice jolted me. My assistant's panic mirrored my own as she pushed through the crowd to reach me. "I just saw it-the media's everywhere-"

"I didn't do this." The words tumbled out, desperate and hollow. "I didn't..."

The room seemed to close in, whispers curling in the shadows like smoke.

How could she let it fall so fast?

Wasn't this why her father never promoted her sooner?

The weight of their judgment was suffocating. I couldn't afford to stand there, frozen. I needed solutions. I needed-

"Rael," I muttered, my pulse spiking. My father's former partner. The man who could undo or destroy me with a word. Even if we clashed like fire and gasoline, he was my best shot.

I found him leaning against a marble pillar, a glass of whiskey in hand, watching me with the same infuriating detachment he always had. His dark eyes gleamed as I approached, sharp and unreadable.

He raised his glass lazily, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Amara. I was wondering when you'd finally come running."

His posture screamed indifference, that signature smirk tugging at the corners of his lips like he had been waiting for me to fall. The kind of smirk that told me he'd been watching, waiting for this precise moment. I hated him for that. Hated the way he seemed to see through every crack, every fault, as though I was an open book written for his amusement.

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms as humiliation seared under my skin. My world was slipping through my fingers, and he knew it.

But I'd be damned if I let Rael Oryn-or anyone else-watch me burn without a fight.

The crowd blurred at the edges of my vision, their laughter and murmured conversations a distant hum. All I could see was him, standing against a pillar as if he owned the place, didn't so much as straighten from his indolent lean. The arrogance in his relaxed posture set my teeth on edge.

That damned smirk stayed fixed in place, as though this moment had been scripted just for him.

"Rael," I said, forcing his name out through clenched teeth.

"Amara," he replied smoothly, lifting his glass in a mock toast. The amber liquid caught the light as he took a slow sip. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Pleasure. The word felt like an insult.

"Have you seen the articles?" I demanded, the words spilling out in a rush. My voice trembled, and I hated myself for it. "The media's tearing me apart. The company is collapsing-stocks are falling, Rael. Everything my father built is crumbling."

His head tilted slightly, his eyes scanning me with a detached curiosity that made my skin crawl. "Ah, yes. I've heard whispers. Nasty business, corporate sabotage. Who knew you had such talents?"

The sarcasm in his tone was a blade, slicing clean through my composure. My fists clenched tighter. He knew. Of course, he knew.

"Rael," I snapped, stepping closer. "This isn't a game. I need your help."

His brow arched, the smirk deepening. "My help? Now that's interesting. Tell me, Amara, why would I, of all people, want to help you?"

The words were a slap, sharp and humiliating.

"You hate me, don't you?" he continued, his question dripping with mockery. "You've made that abundantly clear over the years. So, I'm curious-what could possibly compel me to swoop in and save you now?"

The shame clawed at me, hot and relentless. He wasn't wrong. I did hate him-or at least, I had told myself that enough times to believe it. Yet here I was, standing in front of the one man I couldn't stand, because I had no other choice.

"My father trusted you," I said, my voice breaking despite myself. I reached out and grabbed his arm, the move instinctual, desperate. "He trusted you more than anyone else. Please, Rael. I-"

I cut myself off, the admission tasting like ash in my mouth.

For a moment, he didn't move. He just stared at me, his gaze suffocating. Then, slowly, he set his glass down on a nearby table, his expression unreadable.

"Marry me then."

The words were so casual, so impossibly out of place, that they didn't register at first.

"What?" I blinked, certain I'd misheard him.

"Marry me," he repeated, as if it were the most logical solution in the world. His eyes gleamed with something darker than amusement. "And watch me turn your nightmare into a dream."

My breath hitched. The world tilted, the polished floor beneath my feet suddenly feeling less solid.

"Are you out of your mind?" I managed, the question sharp with disbelief.

Rael's smirk returned, wider this time. He leaned in slightly, just enough to make the air between us feel too close. "You need me, Amara. Whether you like it or not. And I'm offering you a solution-one that saves your company, your reputation, and everything your father left you. But there's a price."

"This isn't a game," I whispered, shaking my head.

"Everything is a game," he countered, his tone smooth and cold. "And right now, you're losing."

His words hung between us, heavy and oppressive.

"And what do you get out of this?" I demanded, crossing my arms in a futile attempt to shield myself.

Rael's dark eyes met mine, unflinching. "What I've always wanted."

The simplicity of his response sent a chill down my spine.

"You," he said, the word soft but devastating. "You've been so busy hating me, Amara, you've never stopped to wonder why I'm always there. Why your father trusted me. Why I'm the one who can save you now."

I stared at him, my world unraveling with each word. This wasn't a game to him. It never had been.

"Think about it," Rael said, stepping back. His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer. "When you're ready to make the right choice, you'll know where to find me."

He turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the ballroom. His proposition loomed over me, pressing down like a weight I couldn't lift.

Marry him?

My pulse thundered in my ears, the gravity of the decision suffocating. Pride, freedom, and sanity warred against the reality of my situation.

And deep down, I already knew the answer.