"Arghh! No! I won't do this." Hilda cursed under her breath.

Today was the day she would meet the man who would become her husband, Alexander Hartman, the enigmatic billionaire whose name and reputation sent chills down her spine.

The sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of her little apartment, casting an ethereal glow over the wooden floors.

Her Dad was here in her apartment, giving her a hard time as usual. She has always been the perfect, dutiful daughter, but this was a little too much even for her.

"You must marry him, Hilda! I won't allow you to jeopardize my business. I won't allow you to crumble what I've worked so hard for, all because of your petty interests." Her father said, with his voice so furious.

"Petty? My interests are petty? I have a future Dad. I have dreams and aspirations, and an arranged marriage certainly Isn’t one of them." Hilda yelled back at her father.

"You don't have a choice Hilda. You must marry him. I refuse to become an object of mockery among my subordinates."

He stated sternly and continued; "Take a look at this place. Is this how you plan to live the rest of your life?" He asked, looking around the apartment and thinking that was the end of it, it only just got worse.

"This place is a disgrace to my name. If the media found out that my daughter lives here, that would be a nightmare compared to losing the company.

"But, I -"

She muttered, just then, the doorbell rang, interrupting their heated conversation, and Hilda took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

She smoothed down her skirt and made way to the door, her steps faltering with trepidation.

Opening the door, Hilda found herself face-to-face with Alexander Hartman, his piercing blue eyes appraising him with a mix of curiosity and possession.

He was tall and commanding, exuding an aura of power that made her feel small and insignificant in comparison. "Ms. Thompson, I presume?" he said, his voice low and velvety.

"Yes, I'm Hilda Thompson. Come in." She replied, offering a polite smile, trying to mask the apprehension that threatened to unravel her.

"Good day Mr Thompson. I didn’t see you there. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything". Alexander said, looking over to her father.

"It's no problem Mr Hartman, I was just leaving anyway." Her father replied, leaving abruptly.

Alexander's steely gaze then remained fixed on me. "Come, we have much to discuss," he said, holding out his arm in a gesture that expected her compliance.

Reluctantly, she nodded and slipped her arm through his, allowing him to lead her towards the living room.

They both settled into the chairs, facing each other, the air thick with anticipation.

"I must apologise for the abruptness of this arrangement," Alexander began, his voice devoid of warmth or compassion. "But I am a man who knows what he wants, and I have chosen you as my wife."

His words hit Hilda like a blow, the reality of the situation sinking in. It was more like she was nothing more than a pawn in his grand game of power and control.

"I understand the circumstances that have brought us together," she replied, her voice steady, refusing to let her see the simmering anger beneath the surface.

"But I must also express that I am not a woman to be owned or controlled. I have my own aspirations and dreams that I intend to pursue, even within the confines of this arrangement."

Alexander arched an eyebrow, a glimmer of intrigue in his eyes. "You possess a fire within you, Hilda. I must admit, I find it rather enticing. But make no mistake, in this marriage, there will be expectations and boundaries."

She squared her shoulders, refusing to back down. "And what about love? What about a genuine connection between two people? Are those not essential components of a successful marriage?"

A flicker, void of emotions passed through Alexander's eyes, almost imperceptible. "Love is a game Hilda, and I'm not here for games." He responded, with so much authority.

"But for now,

he continued

, we must focus on building a solid foundation, a partnership that will unite two families and safeguard our respective interests."

His words stung, a stark reminder of the inherent sacrifice she was making. Love couldn't be forced or manufactured, and from the depths of my soul, she feared the void that would inevitably exist within their union. But she was determined not to let it define her.

"I understand the reasons behind this marriage," she said, her voice unwavering, "but I will not be your prisoner, Alexander. As I said earlier, I have dreams and passions that will not be stifled by the expectations society has placed upon us."

Alexander leaned back in his chair, studying me intently. After a momentary silence, he let out a sigh. "Perhaps I misjudged you, Hilda," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "There is more to you than meets the eye, and I am intrigued by the woman you are."

Hilda raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his admission. "And are you willing to embrace the woman I am, rather than the woman you wish me to be?"

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Alexander's lips. "Only time will tell, Hilda."

“The wedding is in two days. I’m not ready for this.” Hilda said beneath her breath.

“You don’t have a choice Ms. Thompson. Oh, you do- You can either be my wife, or your family goes bankrupt; making you live on the streets. Isn’t that a better choice Hilda?”

He asked, staring intently at her, with a sharp smirk on his face, that Hilda so wished to slap it off.

The thought of getting married to Alexander was dreadful.

"You don't want to miss your own wedding Ms. Thompson. Don't be late." Alexander said. His voice made her escape her thoughts.

She then realised they were barely inches apart. He cupped her chin with his palm and then found herself eagerly anticipating what was yet to come.

'Is he about to kiss me?' She thought.