THE BILLIONAIRE'S BARGAIN

The heavy scent of lilies clung to the air, mingling with the warm candlelight that flickered along the aisles of St. Matthew's Church. Catherine stood at the edge of the grand entryway, her breath shallow. The intricate lace of her gown felt suffocating, clinging to her skin as though mourning her fate.

"You will marry Richard Lawrence." Her father's words from the night before echoed in her mind, sharp and unyielding.

"Catherine, you have to understand-" her father began.

"You can't do this, Dad!" she had shouted, fury and disbelief mingling in her voice.

Daniel Park's face had been etched with grim resolve.

"I'm doing what I have to."

"You're destroying my life!"

"I'm protecting you," he said through gritted teeth.

Her laugh had been bitter.

"Protecting me? By selling me to Richard Lawrence? What kind of protection is that?"

"It's the only way to keep you safe," he muttered.

"From what?" she demanded, but Daniel had turned away, ending the conversation.

Now, as Catherine stood on the brink of a future she never chose, the weight of his betrayal pressed down on her chest. She fought to steady her breathing.

"Ready?" Her mother's soft voice broke through her thoughts.

Catherine turned to see Celia Park standing beside her, elegant in a pale blue dress. Her mother's face was serene, but her eyes glimmered with guilt.

"Do I have a choice?" Catherine's voice was cold.

Celia's lips pressed into a thin line.

"We all have choices, but some come with consequences."

"Spare me the wisdom," Catherine snapped. "You stood by and let this happen."

Her mother flinched but said nothing.

The heavy oak doors creaked open, revealing the grand interior of the church. A hush fell over the guests as Catherine stepped forward, her father beside her. His expression was stoic, but she could feel the tension radiating from him.

"You don't have to go through with this," Daniel whispered as they began their walk down the aisle.

Catherine's steps faltered.

"What?"

"I'll find another way if you really can't do this," he said, his voice barely audible.

Her heart twisted, torn between desperation and disbelief.

"Now you say that? After everything?"

"Catherine, please-"

"Mistakes?" she hissed, keeping her voice low. "You ruined my life, Dad."

His grip on her arm tightened.

"Keep walking."

Fury burned in her veins, but she forced herself forward. The eyes of countless guests bored into her, their faces blending into a blur of silk and jewels. Catherine's breath quickened. Her pulse thudded in her ears.

At the altar stood Richard Lawrence. Her heart sank. He was as imposing as ever-tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding an air of unshakable authority. His tailored black suit clung to his powerful frame, and his icy blue eyes locked onto her with unsettling intensity.

Catherine's steps faltered again.

"Keep walking," Daniel muttered through clenched teeth.

Her legs felt like lead, but she pushed herself forward, her gown rustling against the polished marble floor. When they finally reached the altar, Daniel released her arm. Catherine felt a momentary pang of loss, but it was quickly replaced by dread.

Richard's expression was unreadable, but his gaze never wavered.

"You look beautiful," he said smoothly.

Catherine forced herself to meet his gaze.

"Looks can be deceiving."

His lips curled into a faint smile.

"Indeed."

The priest's voice droned on, but Catherine barely registered the words. Her mind raced, tangled with fear and defiance.

"Do you, Catherine Park, take Richard Lawrence to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The question hung in the air, suffocating her.

Catherine's throat tightened. Her gaze flickered to her father, whose face remained a mask of stoic determination. Her mother sat rigidly in the front pew, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

There was no one to save her.

"I..." Her voice wavered.

Richard's gaze bore into her, unyielding.

"I do," she whispered, the words tasting like ash on her tongue.

The priest turned to Richard.

"Do you, Richard Lawrence, take Catherine Park to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," Richard said firmly, his voice steady and confident.

Catherine's heart plummeted.

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Applause erupted from the guests, but Catherine barely heard it. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

Richard leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "Smile, Catherine. The world is watching."

A shiver ran down her spine. Her lips curved into a hollow smile, but her eyes burned with unshed tears.

As they turned to face the crowd, Richard's grip on her hand was firm, possessive. Catherine's heart raced as the weight of her father's betrayal and the suffocating presence of her new husband crushed her.

The applause faded into a blur, and all she could think was that this was only the beginning. Her nightmare had just begun.

As they walked back down the aisle, Catherine caught glimpses of familiar faces in the crowd. Friends from school, acquaintances from her parents' social circle, and even a few distant relatives all watched her with varying degrees of curiosity and sympathy.

But Catherine's gaze was drawn to one person in particular – a young man standing at the back of the church, his eyes locked onto hers with a fierce intensity. For a moment, their gazes held, and Catherine felt a spark of connection, of understanding.

Then Richard's grip on her hand tightened, and she was forced to look away, leaving the mysterious stranger behind.

As they emerged from the church, Catherine was enveloped in a flurry of congratulations and well-wishes. She smiled and laughed and played the part of the happy bride, all the while seething with resentment and anger.

Richard, sensing her tension, leaned in close. "Remember, Catherine, you're mine now. You'll do as I say, and you'll smile while you're doing it."

Catherine's heart recoiled at his words, but she forced herself to nod, to play the part of the obedient wife. For now, at least, she was trapped in this nightmare, forced to wear a mask of happiness while her heart screamed in protest.

The reception was a blur of music and laughter and champagne toasts. Catherine went through the motions, smiling and chatting and pretending to be the happy bride.

But beneath the surface, she seethed with anger and resentment. She was trapped, caught in a web of her father's making, with no clear escape.

As the night wore on, Catherine found herself growing more and more desperate. She needed a way out, a way to escape the prison of her marriage and reclaim her life.

But for now, at least, she was stuck, forced to play the part of the happy bride while her heart screamed in protest.