Forced Marriage: Breaking Free from Love

Name: Forced Marriage: Breaking Free from Love
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Vikings

Romance | Ongoing

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Sasha Hamilton had always lived a life of luxury, never needing to worry about the intricacies of business or the weight of responsibility. At 24, she reveled in the freedom her father's wealth afforded her-a carefree existence of private jets, designer clothes, and extravagant parties. She had it all, and she didn't mind letting the world know it. However, her perfect world came crashing down the day her father, Garret Hamilton, summoned her into his office. "Christian Matheson," her father's voice was cold, his gaze as unyielding as ever. "You're going to marry him." The shock hit Sasha like a tidal wave. She had heard of Christian-27 years old, heir to a business empire that was now teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. It was the only reason Garret Hamilton had offered to help the Matheson family: an arranged marriage between their children, an alliance that would solidify Garret's hold over the rival company and bring Christian's family under his control. Christian, once known as a carefree playboy, now faced the devastating reality of his father's company crumbling. When Garret's proposal came, it seemed like the only lifeline left. Christian knew he had no choice but to agree, even if it meant marrying a woman who was nothing more than a pawn in his father's desperate game. Thrown together in a marriage neither wanted, Sasha and Christian were forced to navigate the minefield of their families' expectations, their own secrets, and the web of lies that entangled them. What started as a cold, calculated arrangement might turn into something neither of them ever expected.

Family Humor Forced love Love triangle CEO Badboy Arrogant/Dominant

Chapter 5 05

04-27 04:16

Chapter 1 01

Sasha's POV

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask, hoping-praying-that somehow I misheard my father. Maybe he had a stroke, or perhaps his brain was simply malfunctioning.

"I've arranged a marriage for you," he repeats, his voice unwavering. Oh, I heard him alright. Arranged marriage. That's the phrase that sent a cold shiver running down my spine. My brain stutters for a moment as I sit frozen in my seat, processing what he just said. I can feel my pulse quicken, my throat tightening as I search for words. But all I can do is stare at him, trying desperately to comprehend the absurdity of his statement.

I lose a breath and throw my head back, letting out an exaggerated sigh. My father doesn't flinch. He remains perfectly composed, his back straight as he watches me, clearly unimpressed with my reaction. Of course he's not impressed. What did he expect? That I would jump up, clapping, shouting, "Oh, thank you, Father, for controlling my life!"?

If I wanted a man, I'd get one-on my own terms. I've been doing perfectly fine for the last 24 years of my life without someone telling me who I can or can't marry. I just finished my degree in business management, and all I wanted was a break, maybe a little holiday to let loose and recharge. But no, instead, my father pulls me out of my well-deserved break in Italy with a phone call that has this as its grand revelation.

I glance at my father again, still processing the words he had just unleashed upon me. An arranged marriage? I lean back in my chair and stare at him in shock, my thoughts spiraling. Who does this in 2025? What century is he living in?

"You're quiet, Sasha," my father notes with an edge of annoyance. "I take it this isn't the reaction I was hoping for."

I don't even know how to respond, so I just sit there in stunned silence. Part of me is waiting for him to laugh, to tell me it's some twisted joke. But no. He doesn't crack a smile. His eyes are steely, resolute.

Taking my silence as confirmation, he continues, "Well, MATHCO has finally gone bankrupt, and this is the opportunity I've been waiting for. It's time to gain control of that company and, more importantly, the market. You're going to help me do that."

I blink, my brain struggling to follow along. MATHCO. That name. The corporation my father has been eyeing for years. I don't care about the company itself, but I can see how deeply this financial mess has affected him. His pride, his entire identity, revolves around money. Power. Control. I've been witness to his relentless pursuit of success, often at the expense of his own happiness-and mine.

"And this is why I need your help," he continues, as if he's already mapped out my future without consulting me. "With the son ready to take over, you would get half of what he owns. That means the company-and the market-will finally be mine."

Mine. The word hangs in the air like an unwelcome guest. I want to scream that it will technically be mine, but I can't. It's not worth the fight right now. Instead, I remain eerily calm, despite the storm raging inside me.

His smug smile widens as he leans back in his chair. It's a rare expression on him-one I don't see often when it comes to me. Most of the time, I'm just a pawn in his grand scheme of things, the daughter who exists as a means to an end. But today, it's different. Today, I'm the golden ticket that will help him salvage his empire.

I can't help but feel the wave of resentment rising in me. I've always been a second thought in his life, only called upon when there's a financial or business issue to deal with. I wonder why I even bother trying to please him, to live up to whatever warped expectations he has of me. I had been in Italy, savoring my freedom for once, and yet here I am, dragged back to deal with his mess.

His voice breaks through my thoughts again. "This marriage will give me the leverage I need. I need you to marry the son of the MATHCO CEO. He's young, wealthy, and powerful. You'll be able to secure your future, Sasha. Secure the future of our company. Think of it as an investment."

I nearly choke on my own breath. Marriage. I want to laugh, but it's not funny. How does he even think this will work? How can I go from being an independent woman to some pawn in a business transaction?

I've never met this son of the CEO, and frankly, I don't want to. I have no idea who he is, but I can already imagine what he must be like-just another entitled rich kid who's been handed everything in life. My father has this uncanny ability to choose people who only add stress to his already complicated life. I've had enough of being a bystander in his drama-filled escapades.

I think back to the last time he called me into his office at midnight. He'd flown me halfway across the country just to tell me that he was getting remarried. That was number three. A model from Texas, the one who barely lasted a year before he got bored and kicked her to the curb. I had no idea why he thought it was a good idea to drag me into that mess. His wives were never good enough for me, and they didn't last long enough for him to even get attached. I could already feel the familiar frustration rising in my chest.

Now, here I am again-another scheme, another plan to help him build his empire. And it's going to be through my marriage.

"Do you understand, Sasha?" he asks, leaning forward, his eyes intense. I know he expects me to say yes, to agree without question.

But how could I? How could I just bend to his will again? "Father," I begin, struggling to keep my voice steady, "you can't just... arrange my life like this. I'm not some commodity that can be traded. I have my own future to worry about."

"Your future, Sasha," he interrupts, his tone condescending, "is tied to the future of this company. If you want to have a future at all, you'll do this. We don't have time for childish rebellion."

I try to swallow the bitterness rising in my throat, but it's impossible. The anger boils over. "So, what? I'm just supposed to marry a stranger for your business deal? What if I don't want to? What if I refuse?"

The words feel foreign on my tongue, but as soon as I say them, I feel a rush of power. I may not have control over this situation, but I'll be damned if I let him think he has complete dominion over my life.

His face hardens. "You don't have a choice in this matter, Sasha. It's already been arranged. The contracts are already drawn up. You'll meet him tomorrow."

A cold shiver runs down my spine. Tomorrow? Just like that? I have no say in who I marry, no say in how my life will unfold. All for the sake of a company that has never cared for me.

"Fine," I snap, pushing myself out of my chair. "I'll do it. But don't expect me to be grateful."

I turn on my heel, storming toward the door, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me break down. As I walk out, I hear my father's voice, calm and calculated, as usual: "This is for your own good, Sasha."

I barely resist the urge to slam the door behind me.