Not my wishes but with Circumstances

Benedict Pov

It was an early morning when I received an unexpected phone call from my father. He asked me to come home immediately for an urgent meeting. I couldn't help but wonder what this was all about. My father had never been one to hand over his business responsibilities, and if he ever did, I was certain I wouldn't be his choice. After all, I had a lot of life left to enjoy, far more than sitting in an office, managing one business crisis after another without a moment's peace.

As the only child, I was admittedly spoiled. I mentioned the call to Charlie, my boyfriend, and he wasn't thrilled with the idea. His expression softened, though, when he noticed how worried I looked. "Why does your dad want you to come home? Is everything okay?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," I replied. "But I need to fly back to England to find out. You could come with me, you know-maybe it's time for you to be introduced as the son-in-law."

Charlie smiled but shook his head. "Not yet. When the time is right, I'll go with you."

I booked a flight and began packing for the trip. My favorite car, a Rolls-Royce Phantom, would be waiting for me when I landed. Upon arriving in England, my dad welcomed me warmly, his demeanor as loving as ever. But something felt off. His calm exterior only deepened my suspicion when I noticed a young man, composed and quiet, seated in a plush chair nearby.

"Dad, what's going on?" I asked.

"Benedict, we need to talk," he said, his tone unusually firm. I was taken aback; this wasn't like him. Traveling from London to England had been exhausting, and I really wanted to take a shower first.

"Dad, I need to freshen up. Can this wait?" I asked.

"I understand, daughter, but this is important," he insisted.

He had never spoken to me in such a commanding tone, not once in my entire life. I was puzzled and uneasy. "Dad, I need to shower. We can talk afterward," I said, hoping to delay the conversation.

I made my way to the lift, intending to go to my room, but before I could step inside, my father blocked my path. His expression had changed drastically-his brow was furrowed, his eyes burning with intensity.

"Daughter, sit down," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. I felt a wave of fear wash over me, and for the first time, I was truly afraid of what he might say next.

My dad had never acted this way toward me before. As I reluctantly sat down, my mind raced, trying to figure out why he was behaving so strangely.

"Mr. Rogers is my childhood friend and has been my backbone in business," he began, his voice steady but firm. "He's been my partner for years, and to strengthen our bond, I want you to marry his son."

My heart sank as he continued, "His name is Jack Rogers. He studied business administration in London, and he's well-suited to carry on our legacy."

Jack stood up, extending his hand to me with a polite smile, but I recoiled, refusing to shake it. "Dad, I don't like him at all. He's not my type," I protested, hoping he would understand.

My father's face hardened. "What nonsense 'type' are you talking about?" he demanded, his voice rising. "This is your betrothed, chosen for you since birth. You will marry him-three days from now."

I tried to plead with my dad, but he was resolute. My mom wasn't around-likely away on one of her business trips to China. Both of my parents were always serious about their work, never letting anything distract them.

My dad left me alone with Jack, clearly hoping we'd get to know each other better. As soon as the door closed behind him, something about Jack's face struck me as familiar. Then it hit me-Jack Rogers had been my coursemate in London. He was well-known for his intelligence and brilliant performance. But what unnerved me most was that he held a secret that could ruin me. I had been rusticated from school, a fact my parents were blissfully unaware of. My heart raced as I wondered what Jack would do with that information.

"Hi," he said, breaking the silence.

"Hello," I replied, trying to steady my voice.

He stepped closer, reaching out to touch me inappropriately. Instinctively, I slapped him. His reaction was chilling.

"You're Benedict Bartholomew, the rusticated girl," he said with a smirk, his words cutting through me like ice. My hands went cold, and I felt my entire body trembling.

"The cat's out of the bag now," I whispered, terrified of the consequences.

I quickly tried to plead with him, desperate to keep my secret from reaching my parents' ears. But his expression remained indifferent.

"I'm not interested in you," he replied coldly. "But I won't spill your secret-on one condition: you'll have to be my sexmate."

I was taken aback! All my sense of pride dissipated. What could I possibly do in such a situation? I attempted to summon courage, but that was none of your concern, I retorted. He proceeded with determination, striding boldly around the living room. You sold your father's sole London residence and opted for a rented apartment to bail out your boyfriend, Charlie, who had been apprehended by the authorities for drug trafficking. In order to deceive your unsuspecting father, you chose to continue renting the apartment from the new owner, pretending that you still resided there. He remarked, leaving me rooted to the spot in frozen disbelief.

Benedict Pov

I was apprehensive following his departure. I never fathomed he could be privy to all my clandestine thoughts. As I was ensnared in my contemplations, my father called out from behind, "Benedict has he absconded.""Yes, father,"I responded.My father remained silent thereafter, showing no curiosity about my sentiments towards him. What would be my destiny now, I pondered.The subsequent day...

I was awakened by the ringing of my phone, pondering on the identity of the caller as I reached to answer. To my surprise, it was my landlord and co-purchaser on the line. "Hello,"I greeted. "Hi Benedict, I've been attempting to reach you, but to no avail. I was inquiring about utilizing the apartment. Upon contacting Charlie, I was informed of your absence as you were visiting your father in England. Consequently, I have redirected the rental payment you submitted to your partner, as you had previously informed me to liaise with Charlie in your absence."

"You shouldn't have done that,"I retorted.

Well, that was the directive you previously provided, and he promptly ended the call.

Lost in contemplation of my destiny, the blare of a car horn outside jolted me.

I summoned my nanny, our esteemed housekeeper, Mrs. Cooker.

"Yes, my mistress,"she acknowledged.

"Who was it?"I inquired.

"It was my lord,"she responded.

Moments later, my mother returned from her business trip, exuding her usual aura of solemnity.

"How are you, my darling?"she greeted me warmly.

"I have brought you a parcel,"she announced.

Upon inspection, I discovered a pink wedding gown tailored to my exact measurements.

Just then, my father descended the stairs, engaging in courteous exchanges with my mother.

"I conversed with Mr. Rogers this morning and learned that Benedict and Jack are both enrolled in the same prestigious institution in London. We mutually agreed that following the nuptials, they should cohabit in a London residence until the completion of their academic pursuits. However, Mr. Rogers found himself lacking a suitable abode in London, prompting me to offer ours,"my father disclosed.

"Very well,"my mother acquiesced.

"Benedict, after the wedding in three days' time, you and Jack will be relocating to our London apartment,"he announced.

I was left in solitude, utterly stunned by the entirety of the situation that unfolded before me. The night seemed endless as sleep evaded my weary mind, leaving me restless and consumed by thoughts. The next morning, I took it upon myself to make a phone call to inquire about the pending rent payment, hoping to alleviate some of the mounting stress. The phone's incessant ringing was finally met with a female voice on the other end, filled with playful accusations and jests about my early morning call. Curiosity piqued, I probed for her identity, only to be met with an enigmatic silence that left me puzzled.

Descending the stairs, I found solace in the familiar sight of my parents seated at the breakfast table, their presence a comforting reassurance amidst the chaos of my thoughts. Joining them, I indulged in a simple meal of fried eggs and bread, savoring the warmth and familiarity of the moment. However, the tranquility was short-lived as my father broached the topic of a conversation with Jack, triggering a sudden wave of unease that gripped my stomach.

Meanwhile, across the bustling streets of London, Charlie expressed his discontent to Percilva regarding the mysterious lady who had answered his call, mistakenly attributing it to Benedict. The lady, concerned about her voice being recognized, anxiously awaited Charlie's decision to call her back, her mind fraught with uncertainty and apprehension.

Back in the confines of England, Benedict found herself still in the confines of the restroom when her father's voice echoed through the house, signaling an incoming phone call. Hastily checking the caller ID, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Charlie's name, prompting a moment of hesitation before ultimately dismissing it as an inconsequential matter when prodded by her father, the weight of the unspoken conversation lingering heavily in the air.

The long-awaited day had finally arrived. I was adorned like royalty, my appearance transformed by the skilled hands of the makeup artist. As I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, memories of the challenges and crises that loomed heavy on my mind flashed before me. Outwardly, I appeared content, yet inwardly, a storm of pain, sadness, and contemplation of potential solutions raged within me. Lost in my thoughts, I was interrupted by my nanny's gentle voice, informing me that my presence was requested downstairs by my esteemed hosts. Without a word, I picked up a bouquet of vibrant, multi-colored flowers and followed her lead. Upon arriving at the court, the absence of Jack's family did not go unnoticed.

Jack Pov

"It was supposed to be a joyous day, filled with laughter and happiness as I prepared to marry the woman I thought I loved. But my heart was heavy with doubt and uncertainty. I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was making a huge mistake.

The truth was, I had proposed to the wrong person. Her secrets still lingered in my mind, and I couldn't help but wonder what I should do. I had asked her to be my partner in a moment of weakness, and now I was paying the price.

As I stood in front of the mirror, getting ready for the big day, my phone rang. I hesitated for a moment before answering. 'Hello?' I said, trying to sound calm.

'Hi Jack, I've been trying to reach you. I heard you're getting married,' a familiar voice said. 'This isn't what we agreed on, Jack.'

My heart skipped a beat as I realized who was on the other end of the line. 'How did you know?' I asked, but she had already hung up.

I tried calling her back, but her number was unreachable. I was trapped. Just then, I heard footsteps approaching. It was my mom. 'Son, what's wrong? You should be dressed by now. They're waiting for us at the court,' she said, her voice firm but worried.

I knew I couldn't tell her the truth. 'I have a headache, Mom,' I lied.

But my mom was insistent. 'You need to get up and get dressed. Your father will be furious if you're late.'

I knew I couldn't argue with my dad. He was a strict man, and I feared him. I slowly got up and headed towards the bathroom to take a shower. But just as I was about to step in, my leg gave way, and I fell to the ground, fainting."

I slowly opened my eyes to find myself in a hospital room, my parents by my side. My mother's face was etched with worry. "Son, I almost lost you today," she said, her voice trembling. "But your father arrived just in time."

My father's phone rang, breaking the tense moment. "Ah, it's Mr. Bartholomew," he said, stepping away to take the call. Thirty minutes passed before he returned, his expression unreadable.

Just then, Benedict and her parents entered the room, carrying a wedding register. "I think we should proceed with the ceremony here," my father suggested. Benedict's father nodded in agreement. "Will Jack be comfortable with that?" he asked.

I tried to speak up, "Dad, can we postpone the wedding?" But my father's anger was swift. "Son, who are you to question my authority?"

As they prepared to join us in marriage, my phone rang again. My mother, who was holding it, tried to silence it, but the caller persisted. Reluctantly, she handed it to me. "Hello?" I answered.

The voice on the other end dropped a bombshell. "I know you're engaged now, but I'm carrying your baby. There's another marriage waiting for you in London."

My heart raced, my breathing quickened, and my mind reeled. "Doctor! Doctor!" I cried out, feeling my world spinning out of control.

As I lay in the hospital bed, my mind began to wander back to the memories I had tried to suppress. Rose, my former fiancée, flashed into my mind like a ray of sunshine. We had been inseparable since secondary school, sharing every secret, laughter, and tear together. I had always envisioned spending the rest of my life with her, building a future filled with love, joy, and adventure.

I remembered the day I professed my love to Rose like it was yesterday. We were sitting on a bench overlooking the university lake, watching the sunset paint the sky with hues of orange and pink. I had taken her hand, my heart racing with excitement and nervousness.

"Rose, from the moment I met you, I knew you were special," I said, my voice trembling with emotion. "I love you, Rose. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy."

But her response was not what I had expected. She looked at me with a mixture of sadness and frustration, her eyes welling up with tears.

"No, you didn't," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Those three words pierced my heart like a dagger. I felt like I had been punched in the gut, my breath knocked out of me. I couldn't understand why she would say that. Hadn't we shared countless moments of laughter, adventure, and romance?

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"You don't love me, Jack," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "You love the idea of loving me. You love the comfort and security of being with me. But you don't truly know me, and you don't truly love me."

Her words cut deep, and I felt my world crumbling around me. I realized that I had been living in a bubble, blinded by my own emotions and desires. I didn't know what to say or do, so I just sat there, frozen in shock and heartache.

That was the moment when everything started to fall apart. I began to question my own feelings and motivations, and eventually, I found myself entangled in a complicated web of relationships, leading to the chaotic situation I now found myself in.