Vows of Convenience, Hearts of Fire

The clink of silver cutlery and the soft hum of classical music filled the air in the opulent dining room of the Lemaire estate. Gold-trimmed china rested atop a polished mahogany table, glinting under the crystal chandelier. Everything about the setting screamed elegance, wealth, and formality-except for the storm brewing behind Asher Lemaire's smoldering eyes.

"I beg your pardon?" he said slowly, voice deceptively calm.

Across the table, Henri Lemaire-CEO of Lemaire Enterprises and the epitome of quiet power-folded his hands with composure. Beside him sat Clarisse Lemaire, graceful and unbothered, sipping her wine as though her son hadn't just had his entire world flipped upside down.

"You heard us," Clarisse said softly, setting her glass down. "It's been decided. You and Elara Wren are to marry before the end of the month."

Asher leaned back in his chair, amusement flickering over the fury in his eyes. "Decided by whom, exactly?"

"By us. And the Wrens," Henri replied coolly. "This isn't a request, Asher. It's an arrangement."

"Elara Wren?" Asher scoffed, standing now. His six-foot-three frame loomed over the table, tailored suit pristine even as tension radiated off him. "We haven't spoken since we were teenagers. You expect me to marry her?"

"She's a lovely girl," Clarisse said, smiling vaguely. "Polite, intelligent. She's been studying abroad, you know."

"And we all know she's the perfect daughter," Asher snapped. "This is absurd. We're in the 21st century. You don't force marriages anymore!"

Henri's eyes hardened. "It's not about force. It's about responsibility. The Lemaire name comes with expectations-and alliances."

That word: alliances. Asher laughed bitterly, running a hand through his dark hair. "So this is business. Not love. Not even respect-just another merger on your damn spreadsheet."

"You're 29, Asher," Henri said. "Still unmarried, still distracted by trivial women and your obsession with autonomy. We allowed you your freedom. You built your tech empire, became your own man. But this-this is what legacy demands."

"And if I say no?"

Clarisse looked up at him, soft but resolute. "Then we dissolve the trust. You'll be cut off from the Lemaire inheritance, and Lemaire Holdings will pull investment from LUXTEQ."

Ah. There it was. The noose.

LUXTEQ, his brainchild. The company he built from scratch. Still fragile in the eyes of the board, still dependent on the capital that bore his last name. A denial would cripple everything he worked for.

He turned away, jaw tight, fists clenched.

"We're not asking you to love her," Clarisse added gently. "Only to marry her."

Asher turned, his eyes sharp and cold. "You're not asking me anything. You're blackmailing me."

Henri stood too, voice iron-clad. "Do what needs to be done, Asher. Like we did."

*************************************************

Meanwhile, across the city, Elara Wren stirred a cup of tea absentmindedly in the solarium of her family's estate. The air smelled of lavender and lemon, her mother's favorite. Her soft curls were pinned loosely, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose as she tried to focus on the book in front of her.

"Elara," her mother, Vivian Wren, said carefully. "We need to discuss something."

Elara blinked, setting down her tea. "Hmm?"

Vivian hesitated. "There's... been an arrangement made. Between us and the Lemaires."

Elara blinked again, brow furrowing. "An arrangement?"

Her father, Davis Wren, cleared his throat. "A marriage. Between you and Asher Lemaire."

Elara froze, staring between them as though they'd spoken in tongues.

"I'm sorry-what?"

Vivian gave her the look-the gentle, pitying one she always wore when delivering things Elara wouldn't like. "We've agreed on a three-year contract. You'll marry. It will secure the merger between our companies and-"

"A contract?" Elara repeated, rising from her seat. "You're marrying me off like I'm a pawn?"

"It's not like that," Davis said hastily. "You're free to walk away after three years. But we're asking-"

"No," Elara cut in. "You're not asking."

Vivian reached for her hand. "Sweetheart, this is the world we live in. These things matter-names, alliances, appearances. And it's not like Asher's a stranger. You two used to be-"

"Elara Wren and Asher Lemaire," Elara interrupted bitterly. "The forced headline of the century."

Two Days Later

The private courtroom was nearly empty-just a judge, two lawyers, and two very stiff, unwilling participants.

Elara sat ramrod straight, wearing an ivory dress that skimmed her knees and screamed "sensible," her hands clutched tightly in her lap. Her lawyer whispered something beside her, but she didn't hear it.

Asher stood at her side, looking every inch the composed CEO in black slacks and a navy blazer, but there was a tick in his jaw and his silence was deafening.

The judge reviewed the marriage license. "Everything seems in order. This is an unusual setup, but not illegal. Three-year term, renewable or dissolvable by mutual agreement. All assets pre-segregated. And confidentiality clauses... extensive."

He looked up. "Do you both consent?"

Elara hesitated. She looked at Asher.

He didn't look back.

"Yes," they both said in unison.

The judge nodded, signed the papers, and stood. "Congratulations. You're legally married."

The echo of the gavel felt like the slam of a door.

Outside the Courthouse

Cameras clicked wildly from across the street. Asher slid sunglasses over his eyes, elbow brushing Elara's as they walked together for the photo. Their parents had insisted on at least one shot to "quiet the press."

"Smile," he muttered.

"I don't think my mouth works right now."

"You'd better figure it out. They're already looking for cracks."

She forced a smile, posing beside him like a mannequin. He did the same, their bodies close enough to touch, their hearts miles apart.

As they stepped into the waiting car, silence fell again. Thick. Unbearable.

After a few minutes, she said, "So. Husband."

He gave her a sidelong glance. "So. Wife."

Another pause.

"We should talk about boundaries. I don't plan to interfere in your life."

"That makes two of us."

She nodded, biting her lip. "This doesn't have to be complicated. We can live in separate wings of the penthouse. No one needs to know anything outside what we present."

His eyes flicked to her, unreadable. "Fine by me."

As the car pulled away from the courthouse, Elara looked out the window, heart heavy.

She had just become a wife to a man she didn't love, didn't even like. A man who didn't want her either.

And somehow, she knew-this was only the beginning.