2.

ISLA

I woke up the next morning, the weight of my decision pressing down on me like a heavy blanket. My body felt sluggish, my mind foggy, and the events of the previous day played over in my head like a bad dream. The marriage deal. I had signed it, practically handing over my life to a stranger.

Or at least, I thought he was a stranger.

The name had lingered in my mind ever since I saw it on the contract: Oliver Blackwood. It had tugged at something buried deep in my memory, gnawing at the edges until realization struck like a lightning bolt.

I shot upright in bed. “No…” I whispered, my breath catching.

Memories surfaced, sharp and vivid. Oliver Blackwood wasn’t a stranger. He was the boy from high school—the one who used to sit in the back of the class, the one everyone whispered about. His presence had been suffocating even then, his gaze cold and calculating. He wasn’t just distant—he was cruel. And now… now I was engaged to him?

I scrambled out of bed, heart pounding. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a coincidence. But I needed proof.

Throwing open drawers, I yanked clothes out of the way until I found my old yearbook buried beneath a pile of forgotten memories. My hands trembled as I flipped through the pages, my fingers skimming over faded photos until I found him.

There he was. Oliver Blackwood. The same dark hair, the same cold eyes. His name was written beneath the photo, bold and undeniable.

My stomach turned.

I clutched the yearbook and ran downstairs, the panic rising in my chest like a tidal wave. I found my parents in the dining room, casually sipping their morning coffee as if nothing in the world had changed.

“I can’t do this,” I blurted out, slamming the yearbook onto the table. “I won’t marry Oliver Blackwood.”

My father barely glanced up from his coffee, calm and composed as always. “Isla, we’ve been through this already. The deal is done.”

“No, you don’t understand!” I said, my voice shaking. “I know him. He went to my high school. He’s not… he’s not who you think he is!”

My mother looked up then, her eyes soft but tired. “People change, Isla. This isn’t about the past. It’s about the future, our future.”

“No! He hasn’t changed,” I insisted, my voice rising in desperation. “He’s dangerous, and I can’t marry him. Please, you have to cancel the deal.”

My father set down his cup with a deliberate clink. “Enough, Isla,” he said, his voice hardening. “You’ve signed the contract. There’s no going back now.”

I stared at them, my throat tightening. “Please,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I’m begging you.”

His eyes narrowed. “This conversation is over.”

My mother sighed softly, but even she didn’t meet my eyes. “Go clear your head,” she said gently. “Maybe some fresh air will help.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned away, grabbing my coat before heading out the door.

The cold air stung my cheeks, but I welcomed it. I wandered the streets without direction, just needing to escape. Eventually, I stumbled upon a small coffee shop tucked between two old brick buildings. The warmth inside was a welcome relief, the smell of fresh coffee wrapping around me like a blanket.

As I stood in line, a voice beside me broke the silence.

“Rough day?”

I turned to see a man with tousled brown hair and kind blue eyes. He was casually dressed, his smile warm and genuine.

“You could say that,” I replied, forcing a small smile.

“Mind if I sit with you?” he asked, nodding toward the empty table by the window.

Normally, I would’ve said no. But today… today I needed the distraction. “Sure.”

We sat down, and for the first few minutes, we didn’t say much. I stirred my latte absentmindedly, watching the steam swirl up from the cup.

“You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world,” he said, breaking the silence.

I let out a bitter laugh. “Something like that.”

“Want to talk about it?”

I hesitated. “It’s complicated.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Well, I’ve got time. And sometimes it helps to talk to a stranger.”

I found myself telling him bits and pieces, carefully omitting names and details. “Let’s just say I’ve been forced into a situation I never wanted, and now I’m stuck.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Sometimes life throws curveballs. But maybe it’s not as bad as it seems?”

“You don’t know him,” I muttered under my breath.

He smiled, soft and understanding. “No, but I know people can surprise you. Good or bad.”

For the first time all day, I felt lighter. “Thanks,” I said quietly.

“Anytime,” he said, standing as I prepared to leave. “Same time tomorrow?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Maybe.”

When I returned home, I found my father waiting for me in the foyer. His expression was serious, his tone clipped.

“You’ll be attending a function tomorrow evening,” he announced.

I froze. “What function?”

“A charity gala,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “Hosted by Oliver Blackwood.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath me. “No,” I whispered. “I’m not going.”

“You are,” he said firmly. “It’s not up for discussion.”

I clenched my fists. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“This is about the family, Isla,” he said. “It always has been.”

I couldn’t breathe. “Why do you do this to me?”

He only glared at me.

“Why do you do this to me?! Why! You’ve never favoured me! You’ve only loved Victoria. Now I’m telling you that you are forcing me into a marriage with the same boy that traumatized me in high school and you won’t say anything about it?!”

“Shut up Isla! I have always favoured Victoria because unlike you, she has brains! She knows what to do to uphold our family’s honor! You are a useless burden to me!” He yelled back.

I was at lost for words.

“Wow. If you marry me to Oliver, just know you’d be signing my life off to my very own tormentor.” I whispered.

He didn’t even flinch. “Then so be it.”