Arranged Marriage with Mr Stranger

Ava's POV

"Still sleeping like an asshole?"

My eyes snapped open as I jumped out of bed when I heard her voice.

No matter how deeply I slept, I could never mistake Clara Wilson's voice. My stepmom. I wondered if I would ever be able to be at peace, as I was years back before she came in. It had barely been 4 hours of sleep and yet she was already screaming my name. I had been called all manner of names as I was old enough to understand the meaning of those names.

My exams were tomorrow and I wished to sit and read. Of course not. All I ever did was work, work, and work.

"Ava!" I heard her heavy stomps thundering up the stairs. She was already close.

She pushed the door and I could see her eyes were filled with rage. I faced her, bracing myself as she walked towards me, holding a broom.

"Good morning, mother," I said softly, forcing the words through clenched teeth.

"I have been calling you for five minutes, lazy bitch. What were you doing?" she yelled.

I bowed my head low, panting like a dog. My stepmother hated me so much. Since I lost my mother, my father brought the witch into our home. I managed to get admitted into the same school as my sister, Alison, because my father wanted me to go there with her. Still, I couldn't keep up. One day I am at school, the next I am scrubbing the floor.

Today was supposed to be my exams, but instead, I am dragged out of bed to begin chores that might leave me too drained or too late to attend school.

The Wilson family is well known across the city, but no one knew I existed. They only knew about Alison, the Wilsons' only daughter. Perfect in every way.

"Are you now deaf as well as stupid?" She continued, advancing closer. My heart skipped a bit because I knew the next thing I was expecting was a slap. Indeed, I was given a thunderous slap. I stumbled backward, dazed. It felt like being struck by lightning.

"Mom, what have I done this time?" I cried, but then it was no use.

"Are you talking back to me?" She snapped, as I moved backward.

First, just apologize. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"I am not your mother. How do I keep saying that?" She had said that countless times, but then I kept making that mistake.

"I'm sorry ma'am," I apologized again. "I had a lot of chores last night and couldn't sleep early. I am sorry ma'am."

As I stood there, she clicked her tongue at me, getting impatient. "That explanation wasn't valid, I know you go around telling people I give you too many chores. I want to see you downstairs in five minutes."

I dashed into the small adjoined bathroom, changing in minutes, changing in record speed.

I got down in five minutes, as she ordered. "Ava, you must not mess things up for me today. "

"Yes mother," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Even though I wasn't sure of what I was not supposed to mess up, all I knew was that if I went against her orders, I would be in a world of pain.

She walked into the living room. "Your father and I had thought about some things and decided that there isn't a need for you to attend college anymore. From now on, you are on janitor's duty at the new hotel, the Silver Royale."

"Janitor duty?" I blinked, in confusion. "What on earth would I be doing there? Why has Father changed his mind? Did I do anything wrong?"

"So many questions. I don't like repeating myself. What do you do in school? Sleep with your sister's boyfriend, because that is all you do."

"W-what?" I muttered, my voice barely like a whisper.

Alison had told them that I slept with her boyfriend, Henry. Meanwhile, she was the one whom I caught a few days ago with my boyfriend having sex in the toilet at school. She is such an asshole. I cried but decided to let go because I had no one and the only one I had betrayed me.

Her glare caught me off guard from my thoughts. "Clean the house quickly and then get ready for your evening duty," she brought out clothes from the pack and said. "Take this, you will be wearing this tonight to serve the guests. I think I have made myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am," I said, with tears streaming down my face.

"And no one should ever hear that you are from the Wilson family," she said, not minding the tears.

The lanyard in my hand is attached to a general access badge that states me, Ava Wilson, as a janitor. My chest tightened, but I nodded.

She left without saying another word. All through the day, I worked through tears.

It was evening already and the bodyguards were here to pick me up. I wonder why they were here, to protect me, I doubt.

Well, at least I left the cage that was called my home. I got started with work immediately after I was dropped off at the hotel. It was so beautiful! It felt like I was in another world. My first service was a delivery room service.

As I walked through the halls, I noticed the light, they were so lovely, glinting on the golden floor like something out of a dream. Balancing the tray in my hands, I made my way through the corridor leading to the private suites. I passed by the poker room, the murmurs drowning out the faint echo of my footsteps. They must be having some sort of party, from the sound of smooth jazz and occasional laughter. My nerves on edge, my head down, I avoided any eye contact with passing staff or guests.

As I rounded up, I caught unusual movement out of the corner of my eye, so I looked up.

I finally saw a tall man, his steps unsteady as he staggered towards the wall for support. He leans heavily on it. He must be drunk.

His head tilted as if he was trying to stay awake but his body wasn't cooperating. The next thing he was falling.

Without hesitation, the tray fell from my hands, as I tried to help him, grabbing him by his arms.

"Sir, are you okay?" I asked, knowing fully well that there was nothing I could do to help him if he fainted.

"Room..." he gargled. "They are.... after me."

I got what he was trying to say. But who was after him? I turned and didn't see anyone coming.

Before I could speak, he pressed his lips against mine. I tried to resist but then I heard some footsteps and couldn't help but pretend.

The footsteps were gone, and then I stood up angrily. "You wanted to take advantage of me. Impossible!"

"Please... the room..." I struggled to understand what he meant.

He wanted me to take him to his room.

"Need, to get away.... Now" he words slurs together.

The sharp, delicious scent of expensive cologne mixed with something more bitter hit me. That wasn't alcohol.

He had been drugged!

Ava's POV

"Your hands let me help you," I said, gently taking the cards from him.

I looped his arm over my shoulder, and he didn't protest. Well, he couldn't because he looked like he was in pain. He groaned, though I felt the weight of him on my shoulder. I led him down the hall, finding the right room number on the card.

I could feel the tension in his body, as he fought to stay conscious. "I kept muttering, we are almost there," which was setting me on edge.

Sliding the card into the reader, I shoved the door open and helped him inside. The suite was massive. Plush furnishings, a sumptuous bed, and floor-to-ceiling windows that bathed the room with natural light.

"Here please sit," I said, lowering him to the edge of the bed. He groans, his head lounging back, as he tries to sit upright.

"Maybe you should lie down for some time," I said, pushing his broad shoulders to the back, as he tried to sit upright.

He placed his hands on me, trying to stop me. I pulled his hands away at the sensation of his bare skin against mine. Weird but I quickly brushed it off as nothing.

"Water.... I need wat..." he still struggled to put words together.

I moved to the minibar, quickly grabbed a bottle of water for him, and then opened it. I helped him with his head, guiding him to drink the water.

"Thank you, " he said, his words a little clearer now. He just needed to sleep it off.

"You're welcome," I handed him the bottle, my finger brushing against him and then the sensation came again. "You didn't look like you were going to make it."

"Yes, I guess so," he chuckled. "Thank you."

"I will take my leave now," I said, with a smile. "Have a nice rest."

Before I could turn, he held my hand and said, "Wait!"

He stood with some effort, feeling a bit stronger. He moved closer, though I wasn't afraid.

'What does he want now?' I muttered inwardly, knowing fully well that my job was not to help a stranger. If Clara ever finds out, then I would be doomed.

He stood in front of me, his blue eyes fixed on mine. He leaned slowly and I knew he wanted to kiss me, but I didn't move.

His lips brushed against mine, slowly at first. It felt like he was testing my reaction. When he found no opposition, his hands slid down my back, pulling me closer. My breath hitches as he kept his hands, grasping the curve of my waist. Every nerve of my body ignited.

"Please stop..." I said, weakly. It felt like I didn't say anything. It felt like I didn't want him to wait.

His lips found mine again, this time it was faster. He began to grow desperate, his body trembling slightly against me. Whatever drug had been coursing through his system might have slowed him down, but it seemed to heighten his need, and I found myself melting into his touch.

"Don't go," he murmured, his lips trailing down to my neck. "Please."

He had said the word so softly, so pleadingly, so at odds with the way he was clutching me, flush against him. Did I want to go?

He dipped his head into the crook of my neck and nibbled before biting down, pulling a gasp out of me. Then he continued, going lower, pushing my uniform out of the way.

If I had wanted to stop this, that had been the time. I should have stepped back, said I had work waiting for me, and walked out. I mean, I had barely known him. We had met like six minutes before. I should have gone-it would have been the sensible-

Oh!

He nipped at the peak of my breasts, and I exhaled shakily. The way he touched me, the way his lips explored my skin, made my resolve crumble.

So focused on the strong sensations he dragged out of me, I didn't notice he had moved us back to the bed until my back touched the sheets.

He was slow to undress himself and then me, and he kissed me constantly, nibbling as he did. I felt something warm that warmed me up. He slipped his dick into me and stroked in softly. I had been vibrating with pent-up energy by the time both of us were finally bare.

He claimed every part of me, thoroughly. His touch had been both demanding and tender, as if he were both lost in the moment and determined to make it unforgettable.

I had let myself go, let myself feel. It had been bliss.

Afterwards, tangled in the sheets, our bodies pressed together, I could see the man's struggle to keep his eyes open, but that had been a battle he quickly lost.

I lay beside him for a few moments more, nestled against his warmth before carefully extracting myself from him.

I quickly got dressed and slipped out of the room, my heart pounding in my chest. The hallway felt colder now, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on me.

No more private suits for me that night. Grabbing the tray I had abandoned earlier, I went back to the kitchens, hoping no one would question me. No one looked at me as I entered, because the kitchen was in a flurry and I silently slid in with some servers who were going to work the poker room.

It had been the right call, even if it was a little uncomfortable. The clinking of glasses and the hum of conversation had drowned out the chaos in my head. My aching feet and the excitement of the games all around had kept me from thinking about the ache in more intimate parts of my body.

And more importantly, it had kept me from thinking about him.

Irrationally, I had felt like people knew-like they had been watching me, almost as if they could smell it on me. But of course, they couldn't have known that for the first time in my life, I had allowed a man to touch me. That I had given that stranger the one thing I had always held onto-my virginity.

And as I had climbed into the car well past midnight, I couldn't help but feel like there was something I had forgotten.

Michael's POV

I woke up, feeling like I was submerged under water. Forcing my eyes open with a groan, I hissed as the sunlight immediately stabbed them. What the hell had happened? My head was fucking pounding.

Sitting up, I rubbed my temple as the events of the previous night came trickling back to me. The poker room, the drowsiness, the woman... God, the woman.

Maybe she had been an angel sent to me. She couldn't have been anything else. As I remembered the more intimate details of our night, a calming feeling of contentment washed over me.

I needed to find her again.

My gaze was caught by something reflecting the light - a delicate silver bangle, lying forgotten on the carpet, partially hidden under my clothes.

I picked it up, turning it over in my hand. Yes, I remembered this. We had been kissing when I took it off. But why can't I bring her face to mind?

At least I needed to pay her for what she did. She saved my life. Immediately, I picked up a bangle from the floor, stared at it for a while. But then, there was no name written on it. How would I be able to find her?

I picked up my phone from the nightstand and dialed Kieran, my assistant's number. He picked up immediately. "Two things, I want you to do for me."

"Yes sir, " he yawns.

"First, investigate last night. I asked the staff to make sure my drinks weren't tampered with and I don't like it when I don't get what I paid for." My fist clenched around the bangle. If it wasn't for the woman. "Someone drugged me last night; he wanted me out of my wits, and they succeeded. Do you see the problem here, Kieran?"

"Yes sir?"

"The second thing is, I want you to find the angel who saved me last night," I said, knowing fully that I can't picture the lady's face or her name. How would I then find her?

"Sir?" he said, bringing me back from my thoughts. "Sir, where do I see the lady?"

"I don't know," I said, sounding confused.

"Sir, do you have her name or maybe a picture of her?"

"Never mind," I finally said. "Just out who tried to poison me. Understood."

"Yes sir," he said, hanging up.

The moment I hung up, my phone rang again. When I checked the caller ID, I frowned. It was my mum. I already knew what she was going to talk about.

I answered with a sigh. "Hello?"

"Michael," she said softly, like she was afraid I'd hang up again, "your dad wants to speak with you. Can you come home? You haven't been home in two days."

I ran a hand through my hair. "I'm not coming home, Mum. I don't want to talk to him."

There was a short silence, then her voice came again, a little more pleading this time. "Come home, son. Your dad wants to see you."

I could already feel the argument waiting for me like a storm cloud. "I said I'm not coming. This is just like last time."

"Michael-please."

I didn't say another word. I ended the call and tossed the phone on the table.

But the words lingered. "You haven't been home in two days." Like I didn't already know that. Like staying away was an accident and not a choice. They never stopped with the pressure, especially my dad. Marriage this, marriage that.

Still, something in me couldn't shake off her voice. So I gave in.

I finally drove home.

The Miller's mansion.

The door creaked open, and almost instantly, Mum appeared from around the hallway, her face a mixture of relief and worry.

"Go upstairs," she said. "Your father's in his study. He's been waiting."

I didn't say a word as I climbed the stairs. I already knew where this was going.

I knocked once before stepping in. Dad stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, just like he always did when he was preparing to lecture someone.

"You called me?"

He turned slowly, his expression unreadable. "Yes. Sit."

I sat, but I didn't bother pretending I was calm.

"I want you to get married," he said.

I stared at him, trying not to laugh. "So that's why I'm here?"

"You're not a child, Michael. It's time."

"I've told you, I'm not ready. I'm not going to marry someone just because you think I should."

"Don't take that tone with me," he snapped.

"I'm not taking any tone," I said, my voice rising.

"I left this house because you and Mum keep pressuring me into marrying someone I don't even love."

Right then, Mum walked in, eyes wide with concern.

"Michael," she said quietly, "that's not the way to speak to your father."

I turned to her. "How did I speak to him? Tell me."

But Dad was already stepping forward. "If you're not going to settle down and do what's expected, then I'll make it simple. I'll cut you off. No inheritance. No business. No house."

I blinked. "You're serious?"

"I've worked hard for what I have. I won't watch you waste it because you refuse to be responsible."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Then take it. Take it all."

"Good," he said. "Starting now, the company assets are off-limits. The penthouse-hand it over. I'll have the legal team handle it."

"I can't believe you," I muttered. "You think because I'm not getting married on command, I don't deserve any of this?"

"This isn't about emotion. It's about building a legacy."

I started to walk out. But then I stopped.

"Fine," I said. "I'll get married."

They both looked stunned.

"But not to someone you pick for me," I continued. "I haven't found the right woman yet. But I'm searching."

I hesitated for a moment, then added, "Actually, last night... I met someone. I don't know her name. I don't know where she went. But she saved me-from something bad. And at that moment... it felt like everything in my life suddenly made sense."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "That's none of my business. My concern is that you get married. And soon, we will find a perfect match for you. We are planning on getting one."

Rage boiled in my chest. "You just want control. That's all you've ever wanted."

"Call it what you like," he said. "My conditions are clear."

I didn't respond. I just left the study.

As I walked out of that house, I knew one thing for certain: the girl was the right person for me.

Just then, my mother, Laura Miller, walked in when I finally got to my room.

"Michael, your father never told you about my health. I am dying soon." I could see her fighting the tears in her eyes.

"What?" I yelled.