Chapter 3 Arabella P.O.V

The days seemed to roll over quickly, and after much preparation, today was finally the day my parents had been waiting for, the day I had dreaded, the day I would be getting married, the marriage was kept a low-key, as it was a request from the groom's family. I looked in the mirror and saw that I looked very elegant, and the dress did look good on me.

The thoughts of what my husband would look like came into my mind, as I haven't met with him physically, he had been busy lately according to my dad. The idea of my future husband filled me with a sense of dread, a heavy burden I couldn't ignore. I struggled to imagine what he would be like - kind or cruel, supportive or controlling? What kind of life would we build together? Despite the arranged marriage being a necessity, a glimmer of hope flickered within me, longing for it to succeed, if only to escape this suffocating house, where I felt trapped and caged.

Just as these thoughts swirled in my mind, my mom's voice interrupted my thoughts

"You look absolutely stunning," she said, but her words seemed distant as she didn't really care much about my appearance.

With gentle hands, she adjusted the fabric beneath my dress, her actions feeling more like she was admiring her handiwork.

"Remember everything I've taught you," she said, her tone carrying a mix of instruction and anxiety. "Lower your gaze when you meet him, speak only when spoken, be gentle in your words, and mind your manners. Men like Asher are drawn to grace and gentleness," she said, rambling on about what kind of wife I should be, this was more than the sixth time she had said it.

I wished that the lectures would end quickly. What was worse was the gown I was wearing, which made me feel as though I were being squeezed. My mother had tightened the corset because she believed that men like Asher do not like overweight women.

Her phone beeped, it was a signal for my mom to bring me downstairs which indicated that it was finally time to see my would-be husband.

My mom looked at me, her gaze pleading with mine once more, desperation laced in her voice.

"Please, make this work. Our family's fate rests on your shoulders. The entire business hangs in the balance. You're our last hope, try not to ruin everything like you are always used to."

she said as she ushered me out of the room.

"You go first; I'll follow shortly. Let me tidy up here," she said, turning her face away from me. I noticed a tear that rolled down her cheek.

With my head bowed, I slowly and elegantly walked down the stairs like my mom had taught me. As I entered the dining room, the first person that my eyes caught was a handsome blond man, with blue eyes and a sharp chin sitting beside my father. His appearance made me shiver in awe, as I admired his beauty. I quickly turned away from my gaze to stare further, for I dared not stare; it was impolite for a lady to stare at a stranger, as my mom had taught me, maybe that was my husband I thought.

Quietly, I approached the table and greeted as I had been instructed, avoiding eye contact.

"She truly is beautiful," Mr. Blackwood remarked.

"Please, take your seat next to your prospective husband," he said with a chuckle, gesturing to a chair.

"Or perhaps we should allow them a moment of privacy, to let the future bride and groom acquaint themselves, as this is their first meeting," he suggested, then turned to my father, and they exited the dining room with his companion, presumably his youngest son.

As they left, I caught a glimpse of his face. I felt a bit disappointed as it wasn't the one I thought was my husband, this one had black hair and was skinnier than the first person I had seen. There was something off about him that made my skin crawl with fear. His gaze moved over me like a predator sizing up its prey, leaving me feeling like a prized possession on display. He rose from his seat, his eyes never leaving my body, as he approached me with a deliberate slowness that made my heart flutter with fear.

As he raised my chin with his fingers, when he did I felt a cold sensation run down my spine. He tilted a side of my face as if seeking a better view, his eyes not leaving my face. I held my breath for a while as fear gripped me. I was unable to meet his gaze.

"You look lovely," he sneered, his tone dripping with mockery, as he refused to release me. His eyes remained fixed on me, making me feel like a trapped animal.

As he finally released his grip, I crumpled into the nearest chair, my legs trembling. His gaze remained fixed on me, a cold, calculating stare that made my skin crawl.

"So, you're the wife my father arranged for me?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.

"What's your name, anyway?" he asked, his eyes still on me.

I tried saying a word but my memory failed me, as I forgot my name due to the tension, I tried stopping my fingers from shaking I finally managed to say a barely audible word

"Ara..."

" Never mind and I don't care to know whatever you are called?" he said "but listen up, I do not want anything to do with you. I hate you, simply because you look...like this." His eyes raked over me, leaving me feeling like a revolting insect under a microscope.

"So, try as much as possible to keep your distance from me. Do I make myself clear?"

I nodded, as I bit my lips trying to control the tears from falling and I said with my voice barely audible and my head bowed

"Y-yes, sir."

"Now, let's get this over with," he said,

"Be a darling and put on a smile, go call our parents that we are done with our formal meeting."

I felt little of myself, as I tried to force a fake smile on my face.