The Unwanted Arranged Marriage

The Unwanted Arranged Marriage

Gavin

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The Fairmont ballroom shimmered with expensive light. It was supposed to be the happiest night of my life, my engagement party with Sarah, my girlfriend of six years. Everything was perfect until Liam, Sarah's assistant, crashed in, drunk and enraged. "A toast!" he slurred, holding a champagne bottle like a weapon. "To Sarah. A woman I love. Not him. Me. It's always been me." The room fell silent as Sarah rushed to him, taking the bottle, her entire focus on placating the man who had just publicly sabotaged our engagement. She led him away, not sparing a glance for my humiliation. My father's words echoed in my ears: "You have three days." The Hayes family pact loomed – an arranged marriage if I wasn't wed by my 35th birthday. Sarah returned, feigning apology, then accepted Liam's smooth, practiced apology on behalf of us both, drawing a line in the sand with me on the other side. Later, back at our apartment, a pocket-dialed voicemail from Sarah revealed her intimate laughter with Liam, confirming their secret connection. A photo, sent by a friend, sealed it: Liam kissing Sarah against an alley wall, a deep, consuming kiss. The final piece of evidence, burning into my mind. This wasn't just a drunken mistake; it was a calculated betrayal. My six-year future, the one I had fought for, lay shattered by deceit. I picked up my suitcase, the fight drained from me. There was only one path left. "Confirm it," I told my father's assistant. "My meeting with the Chen family is scheduled for tomorrow at noon."

Introduction

The Fairmont ballroom shimmered with expensive light.

It was supposed to be the happiest night of my life, my engagement party with Sarah, my girlfriend of six years.

Everything was perfect until Liam, Sarah's assistant, crashed in, drunk and enraged.

"A toast!" he slurred, holding a champagne bottle like a weapon.

"To Sarah. A woman I love. Not him. Me. It's always been me."

The room fell silent as Sarah rushed to him, taking the bottle, her entire focus on placating the man who had just publicly sabotaged our engagement.

She led him away, not sparing a glance for my humiliation.

My father's words echoed in my ears: "You have three days."

The Hayes family pact loomed – an arranged marriage if I wasn't wed by my 35th birthday.

Sarah returned, feigning apology, then accepted Liam's smooth, practiced apology on behalf of us both, drawing a line in the sand with me on the other side.

Later, back at our apartment, a pocket-dialed voicemail from Sarah revealed her intimate laughter with Liam, confirming their secret connection.

A photo, sent by a friend, sealed it: Liam kissing Sarah against an alley wall, a deep, consuming kiss.

The final piece of evidence, burning into my mind.

This wasn't just a drunken mistake; it was a calculated betrayal.

My six-year future, the one I had fought for, lay shattered by deceit.

I picked up my suitcase, the fight drained from me.

There was only one path left.

"Confirm it," I told my father's assistant. "My meeting with the Chen family is scheduled for tomorrow at noon."

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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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