A possessive billionaire

"Arghh! No! I won't do this." Hilda cursed under her breath.

Today was the day she would meet the man who would become her husband, Alexander Hartman, the enigmatic billionaire whose name and reputation sent chills down her spine.

The sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of her little apartment, casting an ethereal glow over the wooden floors.

Her Dad was here in her apartment, giving her a hard time as usual. She has always been the perfect, dutiful daughter, but this was a little too much even for her.

"You must marry him, Hilda! I won't allow you to jeopardize my business. I won't allow you to crumble what I've worked so hard for, all because of your petty interests." Her father said, with his voice so furious.

"Petty? My interests are petty? I have a future Dad. I have dreams and aspirations, and an arranged marriage certainly Isn’t one of them." Hilda yelled back at her father.

"You don't have a choice Hilda. You must marry him. I refuse to become an object of mockery among my subordinates."

He stated sternly and continued; "Take a look at this place. Is this how you plan to live the rest of your life?" He asked, looking around the apartment and thinking that was the end of it, it only just got worse.

"This place is a disgrace to my name. If the media found out that my daughter lives here, that would be a nightmare compared to losing the company.

"But, I -"

She muttered, just then, the doorbell rang, interrupting their heated conversation, and Hilda took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

She smoothed down her skirt and made way to the door, her steps faltering with trepidation.

Opening the door, Hilda found herself face-to-face with Alexander Hartman, his piercing blue eyes appraising him with a mix of curiosity and possession.

He was tall and commanding, exuding an aura of power that made her feel small and insignificant in comparison. "Ms. Thompson, I presume?" he said, his voice low and velvety.

"Yes, I'm Hilda Thompson. Come in." She replied, offering a polite smile, trying to mask the apprehension that threatened to unravel her.

"Good day Mr Thompson. I didn’t see you there. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything". Alexander said, looking over to her father.

"It's no problem Mr Hartman, I was just leaving anyway." Her father replied, leaving abruptly.

Alexander's steely gaze then remained fixed on me. "Come, we have much to discuss," he said, holding out his arm in a gesture that expected her compliance.

Reluctantly, she nodded and slipped her arm through his, allowing him to lead her towards the living room.

They both settled into the chairs, facing each other, the air thick with anticipation.