Please, Don't Be My Husband!

Aurelia Schaffner had never been the kind of girl who believed in fate. She believed in logic, in cause and effect, in the simple fact that actions led to consequences. But as she stood in front of the grand mahogany door, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for the handle, she couldn't help but feel that fate was laughing in her face.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She had faced tough situations before-failed exams, strict professors, even an entire semester of waking up at dawn for a class she despised. But this? This was on an entirely different level. Because behind that door was the one person she had never expected to see again, at least not like this.

Rafael Mahendra.

The name alone sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of irritation and lingering anxiety. The last time she had encountered him, he had been the all-powerful student body president, a figure of authority with an unshakable presence, sharp eyes, and an even sharper tongue. He had been the kind of senior who made freshmen tremble-stern, merciless, and, in her personal opinion, annoyingly perfect.

And now, she was supposed to marry him.

It was absurd. Impossible. A cruel joke.

Yet here she was, dressed in an elegant but suffocating traditional outfit, standing in front of his family's home, waiting to be introduced as his future wife.

She clenched her fists, recalling the most humiliating day of her freshman year-the day Rafael Mahendra had made her life a living hell.

It had been the first day of university orientation, and she had been running late. Not by much-just ten minutes. But those ten minutes had sealed her fate.

She had rushed into the auditorium, her backpack barely slung over her shoulder, only to find herself standing in front of hundreds of students, all seated in perfect silence. The student council, dressed in crisp formal attire, had been lined up at the front. And at the center, standing with arms crossed and an unimpressed expression, was Rafael Mahendra.

"Miss Schaffner," he had said in that cool, authoritative voice. "You're late."

Aurelia had swallowed hard, feeling the weight of hundreds of eyes on her. "I-I'm sorry. There was traffic-"

"Excuses." His voice had been cold, final. "Rules exist for a reason. If you can't follow them, you'll have to deal with the consequences."

And deal with the consequences she did. He had assigned her an endless list of tasks-running across campus to deliver paperwork, memorizing the names of every faculty member, even leading a morning roll call for the next three days. By the end of the week, she had been exhausted, humiliated, and absolutely certain of one thing:

She hated Rafael Mahendra.

And now, thanks to her family's insistence, she was about to become his wife.

The door finally creaked open, pulling her back to the present. Her heart pounded as she lifted her gaze, and there he was-standing tall, dressed in a sharp, tailored shirt, his dark eyes scanning her with unreadable intensity.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick, tense, charged with something unspoken.

Then, Rafael sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Of all people," he muttered, almost to himself.

Aurelia let out a sharp breath, crossing her arms. "Trust me, this is the last thing I wanted too."

His lips twitched, almost as if he was amused. But that expression vanished in an instant, replaced by the same cold indifference she remembered all too well.

"Then let's get this over with," he said, stepping aside.

Aurelia squared her shoulders before walking inside, her head held high.

She wasn't that timid freshman anymore.

And if she was going to be stuck in this marriage, she would make sure Rafael Mahendra regretted ever underestimating her.

Aurelia stepped into the grand Mahendra estate, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor. The air inside was thick with the scent of sandalwood and something else-something cold, like the weight of old money and rigid traditions. She barely had time to take it all in before a voice, low and authoritative, broke through the tense silence.

"My parents are waiting," Rafael said, his tone devoid of warmth.

Aurelia turned to look at him, meeting his dark gaze with unwavering defiance. If he thought she was going to cower in his presence like she had years ago, he was sorely mistaken.

"Lead the way," she said, lifting her chin.

Without another word, Rafael turned and strode down the long hallway, his movements precise and controlled. He walked as if the world bent to his will, as if every step he took was measured and deliberate.

Aurelia followed, her heart pounding in her chest. Every instinct screamed at her to turn around, to run, to find a way out of this madness. But there was no escape. Not when her parents had already made the decision for her.

The moment they entered the lavish sitting room, all eyes turned to them.

Rafael's parents sat on the grand leather sofa, their expressions unreadable. His father, a man with a sharp jawline and an air of quiet authority, merely raised an eyebrow at her arrival. His mother, elegant and composed, offered a tight-lipped smile.

Aurelia swallowed. She had faced tough professors and ruthless seniors, but the Mahendra family was in an entirely different league.

"Aurelia," Rafael's mother finally spoke, her voice smooth but firm. "It's good to see you again."

"Likewise, Mrs. Mahendra," Aurelia replied, forcing a polite smile.

The woman's gaze flickered to her son before settling back on her. "I'm sure you both understand why you're here."

Aurelia's fingers curled slightly against the fabric of her dress. Oh, she understood. She just didn't want to accept it.

Rafael, standing beside her like a statue carved from ice, finally spoke. "Let's be direct." His voice was clipped, businesslike. "Neither of us wants this. So let's be clear on where we stand."

Aurelia's breath hitched slightly, but she kept her expression blank. "Go on."

Rafael turned to her, his dark eyes piercing. "This is nothing more than an arrangement. A contract. We do what is expected of us, and in return, our families get what they want."

Her nails dug into her palm. "And what about what we want?" she asked, voice edged with frustration.

For the first time, something flickered in Rafael's gaze. Something unreadable.

"It doesn't matter," he said simply.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Aurelia felt the weight of the decision pressing down on her. She had always dreamed of love-of a romance filled with passion and choice, not cold agreements and forced obligations. But reality was cruel, and the Mahendra family was not the kind of people one could refuse.

"I assume you have conditions," Rafael's mother said, sipping her tea as if they were discussing business rather than her son's future.

Rafael nodded. "Yes. I expect her to follow certain rules."

Aurelia's head snapped toward him. "Rules?"

His gaze didn't waver. "If we are to convince everyone that this marriage is real, we need to play the part. That means no unnecessary drama, no scandals, and most importantly-" he stepped closer, his voice lowering to something almost dangerous, "-you do not interfere with my life, and I won't interfere with yours."

Aurelia clenched her jaw. "Fine. Then I have conditions too."

Rafael tilted his head, waiting.

"If we're doing this, I won't be treated like a burden," she said, meeting his gaze head-on. "I won't be some pawn for your family's games, and I won't be controlled like some obedient little wife."

A muscle ticked in Rafael's jaw, but he said nothing.

His father, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "Then we are in agreement." His voice was deep, final.

Aurelia's stomach twisted as she realized what she had just done.

She had just agreed to marry Rafael Mahendra.

And there was no turning back.

Aurelia sat rigidly in the backseat of Rafael's sleek black car, her hands gripping the folds of her dress as if holding onto the last remnants of control over her life. The city lights flickered past the tinted windows, but she barely saw them. Her mind was too consumed by the weight of what had just happened.

She was engaged.

To Rafael Mahendra.

The same man who had made her university life hell. The same man who had humiliated her in front of hundreds of students. And now, he was going to be her husband.

The thought made her stomach twist.

"You're tense," Rafael's deep voice broke through the silence.

Aurelia snapped her head toward him, glaring. "Oh, really? What gave it away?"

Rafael didn't even spare her a glance, his hands gripping the steering wheel with effortless control. "You're gripping your dress like you're about to jump out of the car."

"Maybe I should," she muttered under her breath.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, something close to amusement but not quite. "That would be dramatic. Even for you."

Aurelia clenched her jaw. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

At that, he finally turned to look at her, his dark eyes scanning her expression as if trying to decipher whether she was bluffing. He didn't say anything for a long moment, but the silence between them was thick, charged with unspoken tension.

"Let's get something straight, Aurelia," Rafael said, his voice quiet but firm. "This arrangement is happening whether we like it or not. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for both of us."

Aurelia let out a dry laugh. "Oh, forgive me if I'm not thrilled about throwing my entire future away for a loveless, forced marriage."

Rafael's grip on the wheel tightened slightly. "It's not just you making a sacrifice."

Aurelia scoffed. "Oh, please. Like this affects you at all. You already have everything-money, power, a perfect life. What do you even lose in this arrangement?"

Rafael's jaw tensed, but he said nothing.

For a moment, just a fraction of a second, she thought she saw something flicker in his expression-something restrained, something almost bitter. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the same cold indifference he always wore like armor.

"You'd be surprised," he finally muttered.

Aurelia frowned, but before she could question him, the car slowed to a stop in front of an upscale apartment building.

"We're here," Rafael announced, stepping out of the car without waiting for her.

Aurelia took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before following him inside.

The lobby was grand, polished marble floors stretching across the vast space, a chandelier casting a golden glow over everything. This wasn't just any apartment. This was the kind of place that only the elite could afford-a world she had never been a part of.

She followed Rafael into the private elevator, the tension between them thick enough to suffocate.

When the doors slid shut, trapping them inside, Aurelia finally spoke.

"Are you always this charming, or is it just with me?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Rafael glanced at her, unimpressed. "Would you prefer if I lied to you? Told you this was some fairytale romance?"

Aurelia rolled her eyes. "No, I'd just prefer if you acted like a human being instead of a corporate robot."

That earned her the slightest twitch of his lips. Not quite a smirk, but close enough that it irritated her.

"Careful," Rafael said, his voice low. "You almost sound like you enjoy arguing with me."

Aurelia narrowed her eyes. "I enjoy winning arguments. There's a difference."

Before he could respond, the elevator doors slid open, revealing a breathtaking penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city skyline, sleek modern furniture arranged with meticulous precision. Everything about the place screamed wealth, power, control.

Much like the man who owned it.

Aurelia swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the reality she was stepping into.

"This will be your home from now on," Rafael said, stepping aside to let her in.

Home.

The word felt foreign, like it didn't belong here.

She took a tentative step inside, her heels clicking against the pristine floor. The space was beautiful, yet sterile. No warmth, no personal touches. It was exactly what she expected from Rafael-cold, calculated, perfect.

Just like their marriage.

Aurelia turned to face him, her heart pounding.

"Let's make something clear," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "I'll play my part in public. I'll smile, I'll pretend, I'll be the perfect wife your family expects."

Rafael's expression didn't change, but she could tell he was listening intently.

"But behind closed doors?" She took a step closer, her gaze unwavering. "You stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours."

For a long moment, he didn't say anything. Then, slowly, Rafael tilted his head, his dark eyes studying her with something almost unreadable.

"Agreed," he finally said.

Aurelia exhaled, relieved.

But as she turned away, heading toward the bedroom that was now hers, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had just made a deal with the devil.

And that somehow, someway, she was going to regret it.