His Dutiful Wife, His Undeniable Love

His Dutiful Wife, His Undeniable Love

Gavin

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The familiar scent of Texas dust welcomed me home after weeks on a sold-out tour, but my mother's strained smile hinted at trouble. Over chicken-fried steak, she dropped a bombshell: an arranged marriage. Not in some period drama, but right here in the 21st century, between me, Ava Monroe, a musician building her own destiny, and Liam Sterling, the grandson of a man my father saved. It was a life-debt, a "gentleman's agreement" from before I was born, now pushed forward by a dying patriarch. I was blindsided, reeling from the archaic notion. This wasn't some fantasy; it was a contract, turning my life into a political maneuver for family honor. The agreement had a cruel twist: it only stood if I wasn't "seriously involved" with anyone. My single status, a consequence of artistic devotion, suddenly trapped me. They rushed the wedding, leaving me married to a handsome stranger who was meticulous, practical, and almost unsettlingly stoic. He treated me with perfect respect, yet his emotional distance left me feeling like a beautiful, but hollow, exhibit in his immaculate penthouse. Then came Victoria. Liam' s long-time, sophisticated pursuer, who saw me as an obstacle and made it clear I was an unwanted intrusion. A seed of raw jealousy took root, twisting my stomach. Was I just fulfilling a duty? Was he secretly longing for someone from his own world, someone who understood his life without constant explanation? Did he even want me, or was I just the inconvenient fulfillment of an ancient pact? I ran. But as I stood on the edge of a bridge, terrified before a charity bungee jump for all the world to see, facing a very real fear, a single thought consumed me. I desperately wished for Liam. And he appeared. He found me, just when I needed him most, pulling me into a fierce, possessive kiss. "I was jealous," he growled. That simple, honest confession shattered every barrier. He chose me. He always chose me. Amidst the chaos of my public life, my arranged marriage was finally becoming a love story, a destiny I was ready to embrace.

Introduction

The familiar scent of Texas dust welcomed me home after weeks on a sold-out tour, but my mother's strained smile hinted at trouble.

Over chicken-fried steak, she dropped a bombshell: an arranged marriage. Not in some period drama, but right here in the 21st century, between me, Ava Monroe, a musician building her own destiny, and Liam Sterling, the grandson of a man my father saved.

It was a life-debt, a "gentleman's agreement" from before I was born, now pushed forward by a dying patriarch.

I was blindsided, reeling from the archaic notion. This wasn't some fantasy; it was a contract, turning my life into a political maneuver for family honor.

The agreement had a cruel twist: it only stood if I wasn't "seriously involved" with anyone.

My single status, a consequence of artistic devotion, suddenly trapped me.

They rushed the wedding, leaving me married to a handsome stranger who was meticulous, practical, and almost unsettlingly stoic.

He treated me with perfect respect, yet his emotional distance left me feeling like a beautiful, but hollow, exhibit in his immaculate penthouse.

Then came Victoria.

Liam' s long-time, sophisticated pursuer, who saw me as an obstacle and made it clear I was an unwanted intrusion.

A seed of raw jealousy took root, twisting my stomach.

Was I just fulfilling a duty?

Was he secretly longing for someone from his own world, someone who understood his life without constant explanation?

Did he even want me, or was I just the inconvenient fulfillment of an ancient pact? I ran.

But as I stood on the edge of a bridge, terrified before a charity bungee jump for all the world to see, facing a very real fear, a single thought consumed me.

I desperately wished for Liam. And he appeared. He found me, just when I needed him most, pulling me into a fierce, possessive kiss. "I was jealous," he growled.

That simple, honest confession shattered every barrier. He chose me.

He always chose me. Amidst the chaos of my public life, my arranged marriage was finally becoming a love story, a destiny I was ready to embrace.

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When Love Turns to Ash

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4.2

My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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