Forced Marriage, Hidden Scandal

The sound of Jakarta's relentless traffic echoed beyond the tall glass walls of Nox Enterprises, but inside the thirty-seventh floor, everything was silent-eerily controlled. The air was thick with tension, and the employees who passed by the CEO's office made sure to lower their gazes, praying they wouldn't be noticed.

Aidan Wira sat at his desk like a king on a throne-flawless, untouchable, and cold. His emerald eyes skimmed through the digital reports on his tablet with calculated precision, every tap of his fingers a silent execution of someone's mistake. His tailored black suit fit him like armor, and not a single strand of his jet-black hair was out of place.

He didn't tolerate inefficiency. Not in his business, not in people, and certainly not in life.

The only sound that dared to interrupt the silence was the soft knock on his office door.

"Come in," Aidan said, not looking up.

His secretary, Nina, stepped in cautiously. "Sir, your father called. He said it's urgent."

Aidan's jaw clenched. "Tell him I'm busy."

"He insisted, sir. He said it's about... the agreement."

That word. Agreement.

Aidan finally looked up, his eyes narrowing. "Schedule a dinner with him. Tonight."

"Yes, sir."

As Nina left, Aidan leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in thought. He knew what this was about. His father had been warning him for months-dropping hints, pushing agendas, and reminding him of a promise made long before Aidan had any say in his own life.

An arranged marriage. A merging of empires. A business deal sealed in blood and paper.

He scoffed. Old men and their obsessions with legacy.

---

Across the city, the emergency ward at Jakarta International Hospital was chaos, but Dr. Elara Santoso moved through it with unwavering calm. Her white coat flowed behind her as she barked instructions to nurses and soothed frantic patients. Her long black hair was tied in a low ponytail, and despite the exhaustion on her face, her brown eyes held a quiet intensity that kept everyone steady.

Elara was good at her job-too good. She had spent years perfecting the art of detachment. Patients died. People lied. Families broke apart. She'd seen it all. And still, she remained composed.

But beneath that surface was a storm-a history she kept buried so deep that even she sometimes forgot it existed. A childhood marred by betrayal. A mother who vanished. A family that only remembered her when they needed something.

"Elara!" her friend and colleague, Dr. Farah, called out as she caught up with her. "Your brother's here. He said it's urgent."

Elara froze. "Which brother?"

"Marco."

Of course. The one who only ever appeared when something was wrong or when their father had a command to deliver.

She sighed. "Tell him I'll be out in ten minutes."

---

When Elara stepped into the hospital's visitor lounge, she found Marco standing there in a designer suit, scrolling through his phone like he owned the world. He looked up, offering a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Elara. Looking tired, as usual."

"Get to the point, Marco. I have lives to save."

He put his phone away and straightened. "Father's made a decision. The Wira family reached out again. The marriage is happening. He's agreed to it. You're getting engaged next week."

The words hit her like a slap.

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. The contract our families made years ago is being honored. Their son is Aidan Wira. CEO of Nox Enterprises. Father says it'll secure the future-for both sides."

Elara took a step back. Her hands curled into fists.

"I'm not a bargaining chip," she hissed.

"You're the only daughter," Marco said, voice flat. "Selene's already married off. You knew this was coming. We all did. Stop pretending you're surprised."

Elara's breath came in short, shallow bursts. Her mind raced with a thousand objections, but none of them mattered. Her father had made a deal. Her family expected her obedience. Again.

---

That evening, at a luxurious restaurant with skyline views of Jakarta, two worlds collided.

Aidan arrived first, as always. He was seated at the private table, eyes on the glass of wine in front of him, disinterested in the extravagance around him.

When the door opened, he glanced up-and saw her.

Elara entered with her chin lifted, wearing a simple black dress and a guarded expression. Her dark eyes met his, and neither of them blinked.

So this was her.

And this was him.

She took her seat slowly, crossing her legs, maintaining her distance.

Silence stretched between them.

"You don't look thrilled," Aidan said finally, breaking the ice with a voice like sharp velvet.

"I'm not," she replied calmly. "I assume you're just as unhappy about this as I am."

"I don't do marriage for romance. This is a contract, Dr. Santoso. A strategic alliance."

"Then let's call it what it is," she said, tone steady. "A trap."

Aidan studied her. There was no fear in her eyes. Just fire.

Interesting.

"I won't be a puppet in your empire," she added.

"I don't need a puppet," he said, leaning in slightly. "I need someone who won't fall apart when the vultures come."

"Then you might have the right woman," she replied coldly.

Another silence.

Aidan smirked, just slightly. "This might not be as boring as I thought."

But neither of them noticed the quiet photographer in the corner of the restaurant, hiding behind a waiter, capturing their first meeting.

And somewhere in the shadows, someone was watching.

Planning.

Waiting.