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Tied By Fate

Chapter 2 The Contractual Bind

Word Count: 1167    |    Released on: 29/10/2023

nd, ornate house that was to be her new home. The weight of the situation pressed down on her

ng sun, casting warm hues on the plush furniture and elegant décor. As she explored the rooms, she felt like an intruder in someone else's

e. His expression was unreadable, his eyes guarded. "I hope you

n the heavy atmosphere. "It's a lovely hous

ce. "Our families expect us to attend the charity event tomorrow night. It's

her decisions were no longer solely hers to make. Yet, there was a vulnerability in his eyes that made

he doting wife, her interactions with Ethan carefully observed by their families and the cur

out into the night. The distant sounds of the city barely registered in her mind. The events of the day

side. "It's not easy," he said, his voice low. "This life we're leading, i

truth. "Is that all this is to you, Mr. Ethan? A facade? O

ntensity. "There's always more beneath the surface, Miss Amelia,"

ling that there was more to this arrangement than met the eye. Little did she know, the secrets hidden wi

ound herself submerged in a world that was as unfamiliar as it was unwelcome. The charity ev

dictated by their contract. The house that had initially felt like a grand prison now echoed with the em

. The walls were adorned with photographs of a happy family-Ethan, younger and carefree, with a woman who b

my parents' study," he said, his voice carrying a trace of nostalgia. "They used

ven the most pragmatic of men had a past, a history that

s. A car accident, years ago." His voice wavered sligh

omposed exterior. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his, a silent gesture

de and longing. "Thank you, Miss Amelia. Sometimes, even the

unwavering commitment to honor the legacy they had left behind, spoke of a man burdened by responsibilities far beyond h

tled between them. "Tell me about your dreams, Mr. Ethan. What did you want to be when you were

ed to be an architect," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I dreamt of building struct

he altar of duty. "It's not too late, you know," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "Dreams

is eyes. "Perhaps," he whispered, his voice barely audib

maintain, there was a flicker of something real-a connection that transcended the boundaries of their arrangement. Little did they know,

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