Arranged Marriage With Mr. Billionaire

DENISE POV,

A single droplet of tears rolled down my face as I stood in front of a floor-length mirror.

Some people believe one's wedding day to be the happiest day of their life, but I never imagined mine to ever be like this.

There was nothing I could do as I watched in silence while my mother prepared me for the man they believed was the perfect husband for me.

They all acted like it was nothing strange and the calm expression on my parents' faces whenever we talked about it sickened me. How could they just give me away like that?

It didn't matter how I felt about such a marriage as long as it was what they wanted, and they tried to convince me that he was the perfect man for me.

"Is that a tear I see?" Her brows arched as she questioned and I looked away. I heard her sigh in disappointment. "Denise, how many times do I have to tell you that he is the perfect man for you? And not only for you but any woman out there! Do you know the gravity of what he has done? He has chosen to help our family without us paying him back a penny!"

I scoffed a laugh, unable to hold it back even if I wanted to. Her words were the funniest thing I had heard all day.

He wasn't asking for a penny? It would have been better off if he requested his money back, but what he was taking was more than money. He was taking me!

"Mother, does he even have to ask for a penny? He is going to marry me, your only daughter, aren't you feeling concerned at all?" My voice almost wavered as I spoke, but I managed to keep myself from bursting into tears.

She shook her head as if disappointed at my words. "Do you see it as paying the price of what he did by marrying him? No, you are not paying any price here, but instead, you are even taking more from him!"

"You should be the happiest one here today because, if anything, you are going from a bankrupt family like us into a prestigious family like the Benjamin's." She said with a proud smile in her eyes.

Silence took over me once again, and I just watched her tighten my silver white wedding dress around my back.

Why argue? I said to myself, when is it all you have been doing since the day you found out about this forced marriage but still no luck in breaking it apart?

I had been profusely against it but neither she nor my dad cared, nobody gave a damn about my own feelings and I eventually stopped trying when I realized I had no say in the matter. In my own marriage.

The man I was meant to marry didn't know, but my family had lied to him about our wealth. He knew, of course, since he wasn't stupid that we were not rich, but he didn't know that we were bankrupt.

Just so they could get what they wanted, they lied to him to win a partnership and gave me away as well.

I felt a hand cup my face and I snapped out of my thoughts. Turning to the side, my eyes met with my mother's set of deep blue, and she bore into me. "I don't know the kind of thoughts that are running around in that little head of yours, but you are going to get through with this marriage and be a wonderful wife to him."

"You may try to make us believe that we are wrongfully giving you away, but I know that you also know the lot of benefits that come to you directly by just being his wife, so you might as well drop the act and put an end to this pity party. I, your father, will never let you destroy what we worked so hard to get."

Her eyes darkened as she spat out the rest of her mind. "A woman's duty to her husband is to please him properly in bed and I want you to have it at the back of your mind that whenever he calls for you, you must run to him and climb into his bed on his order."

Her words made my stomach churn and I felt as if I was about to hurl. The thoughts alone had haunted me, and now she had coldly thrown the words directly at my face.

There was a deep message in the way she gripped my face, the way her eyes bore into mine, the sternness in her gaze and voice and the confidence in her stance.

A message that read out loudly that she didn't care about what I had to say about the topic and there was nothing I could do to stop the marriage.

She would only do what she saw fit for herself and my father, irrelevant of what I thought about it.

But I would still speak my mind even though her gaze held a knife to my throat. "I will not be a bed warmer to him, mother. I am a woman, and he should show me respect as fit. What? A woman's duty to her husband is to please him properly in bed? No, that's a sex slave's job. And I will only treat him as a husband if he treats me as a wife."

Tears pricked at my eyes as I spoke, but I managed to keep them from pouring down my face.

I controlled my voice from shaking and also kept it at a neutral tune to avoid stirring up trouble with my mother, because the last thing I needed on such a devastating day was her getting angry at me and becoming aggressive, as she always did.

She sneered. "You can run your mouth all day about this topic, but I care less about that. No, I don't care at all. You must do whatever it takes to keep this marriage from falling apart, you must please him in every way.

"I don't care about what you think of it, call it whatever you want, sex slave, bed warmer, anything at all, but you must do every and anything he asks for. If he comes to us with the slightest complaint about you or your attitude towards him, you should already know what will come next, and you are not going to like it."

I felt her gaze burn me as I looked into her eyes, bound by the fire, unable to break away.

She released her grip from my face. "Fix your make-up and cover every single trace of tears." She said as she started towards the door.

As much as I tried, my tears still broke free and trailed down my face. I fought back the urge to reply, every time she became like this, I always found it hard to believe that she was my own mother.

Her words stabbed my chest so painful that I thought I would bleed out.

"I don't want my own daughter walking down the aisle looking like a depressed woman." She said sharply before slamming the door behind her.

I closed my eyes to regain my thoughts before adjusting my make-up. The thought of absconding came to me, but running away was no issue. If they found me, I would be in big trouble.

But could I really survive such a marriage? Why should I have my own fate decided for me?

A gentle knock called me out of my thoughts as I redid my makeup and I already knew who it was.

I applied the last layer of powder on my face and dropped the brush back on the table. So that was it. No going back now.

Walking towards the door, I took the handle in my hand and opened the door. My own father stared at me with emptiness in his gaze, but I knew my mother must have filled him in on our not-so friendly discussion.

He fixed my veil on my head without saying a word, then stretched his hand for me to take. "It's time to walk you down the aisle." He uttered sternly.

I fidgeted next to him as I took his hand and he tightened his grip, making me bite down on my lower lip.

"I heard about your shenanigans from your mother. Do you want me to handle the situation?" His voice was cold and caused chills to run down my spine.

I immediately shook my head, my hand subconsciously wrapped around myself, the images of the scars on me depicted on my head.

"Good, you had better be at your best, or you will weep your way into his home. Put on a big smile, bigger than the entire hall, brighter than the sun itself or else."

The only important thing to him here was the benefit he would gain from selling me off to another man, and he didn't care about what fate lay ahead for me in the hands of this man.

I swallowed hard, trying to hide my fear. "Yes father..."

"It is time."