Married to a misogynist

The sound of glass clinking against polished wood echoed in the grand study, where Edward Blackwell, with his perfectly tailored suit and cold, calculating eyes, stared out at the sprawling skyline of the city below. The lights twinkled like stars-stars he once thought he was above. In the silence of the room, his fingers traced the rim of the glass, as though searching for something to steady the chaos inside him.

Outside, the world adored him-captivated by the genius of his wealth, the sharpness of his mind, and the effortless charm that poured from his lips. He had the empire, the mansion, and the life that others could only dream of. But at the heart of it all, there was something he couldn't shake: a disgust, a loathing of the people who surrounded him, the ones who held his name in reverence. And, most of all, the woman who slept in the bed beside him each night-Sophia, his wife.

She was beautiful. Brilliant, even. She was everything society had told him to desire. But to Edward, she was nothing more than a delicate ornament-her grace, her smile, her intellect all just parts of a perfect façade he had been forced to construct. His father had arranged this marriage, pushing him into it with an iron fist, demanding he marry Sophia to ensure their family's legacy. "A man like you can't afford to be seen alone," his father had said, his voice devoid of warmth, like a machine running on ancient, inherited rules.

In the early days, Edward had believed the marriage would be simple. He would play the part, maintain the image, and walk away when the time came. But he hadn't counted on the growing irritation-Sophia's soft voice in the morning, her quiet suggestions in meetings, the way she tried to carve out a place for herself in a world that had no intention of letting her in. Every word she spoke to him felt like a challenge to his control, every glance a reminder that she was not just a reflection of his success, but a person with thoughts, ambitions, and desires of her own.

And yet, even now, when he knew the truth-that he had never loved her, that he had married her as a means to an end-he still found himself trapped in the gilded cage of their life together. He couldn't divorce her; not yet. The scandal would be too much, the public too unforgiving. So, he tolerated her, his words cutting sharper with each passing day. But in the stillness of the night, when his thoughts ran unchecked, the true ugliness of his soul surfaced: he despised her.

There was a truth he couldn't deny: Edward Blackwell was a man who had everything, and yet, he was terrified of losing it all.

He remembers how it all started.

Edward stands before his father, a towering figure of authority in the opulent study, his polished shoes clicking sharply against the marble floor. The weight of his father's gaze is suffocating, as if every decision in his life has been mapped out long before his birth. The old man's voice cuts through the air, firm and commanding.

"You will marry Sophia Davenport. It's time for us to secure our legacy," his father demands, the words leaving no room for objection.

Edward's stomach tightens, a flicker of rage crossing his face, but he keeps it hidden behind his cold exterior. He can already feel the pressure to maintain his family's public image and status. His father has never understood him, never cared about his desires. Marriage is nothing more than a business transaction-a way to present the perfect image of a successful, upstanding man.

Edward forces a smile, suppressing the anger building in his chest. "Of course, Father. Whatever you say."

The arranged marriage to Sophia, a woman of grace and beauty, will shield him from the whispers of society. But as he stares at the photograph of her in his hands, he feels nothing but disdain. She's just another piece of the puzzle in his carefully crafted life. He wonders if she even knows how hollow it all feels.

He recalls how they met and immediately regrets accepting his father's decision because left for him he wouldn't even think of marriage but it was for the best so he thought.