They tried to bury me, but they didn't know I was a seed." – Mexican Proverb
TRINA'S POV
I'm halfway down the grand staircase when I heard my father's voice, sharp and unwavering, slicing through the silence of our house.
"You agreed, Evelyn. The contract is final."
I stopped in my tracks. My mother's voice followed, softer but no less urgent. "She's our daughter, Robert. Not a business asset."
My fingers curled around the railing. A chill snakes down my spine, though the house is warm. I knew that tone in my father's voice. Cold. Decisive. Unyielding. It was the tone he used when a deal was done.
I moved closer, quiet as a shadow, pressing myself against the wall just outside the study. The door was cracked open, a sliver of golden light spilled onto the marble floor.
"She's twenty-three," my father continued. "It's time she did something useful."
Useful. The word burned, but I don't react. Not yet.
"You mean it's time you married her off," my mother retorted. There's steel in her voice, but I knew better. She wouldn't win this fight. She never did.
A chair scraped against the floor, and I picture my father standing, hands braced on his mahogany desk, looming over my mother the way he loomed over everyone. "The Blackwoods are one of the most powerful families in the country. Damian is taking over as CEO, and he needs a wife. This is a strategic alliance, Evelyn."
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping.Damian Blackwood.
I've heard the name before, of course. Everyone had. Ruthless. Calculating. A man who built his reputation on cold efficiency. I have only laid my eyes on his sinful face once and If the rumors were true, he ran his life like a corporation—structured, disciplined, and devoid of anything remotely resembling emotion.
And I'm supposed to marry him?
No.
I forced myself to breathe, to push down the panic that clawed its way up my throat.
"He doesn't need Trina," my mother argued. "He needs a business deal, and you're offering our daughter like she's nothing more than a—"
"A what?" my father interrupted, his voice smooth but lethal. "A spoiled little girl who spends my money and contributes nothing? If she won't make herself useful, I will."
My heart hammered.
"You can't force her," my mother said. "She won't go along with this."
"Oh, she will." His confidence made my stomach turn. "She doesn't have a choice."
That's when I moved.
I pushed open the door, slow and deliberate, letting it creak as I step into the light. My mother gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. My father merely straightened, his expression unreadable.
"Funny," I say, my voice steady despite the rage simmering beneath my skin. "Because it sounds to me like you've made a choice for me."
My father exhaled sharply, as if I was nothing more than an inconvenience. "Trina, this is done."
"No," I said, tilting my head, a sharp smile curving my lips.
I had definitely worked hard to be who I was and I wasn't just going to let all that go because my dad needed a new deal to pull himself out of the mud he pulled himself in. He had no right to call me spoilt.
"Dad," I said trying to control the angry sizzling through me. "You of all people should know how hard I worked to become who I am. You watched me spend my whole life becoming this celebrated lawyer. It's like you where fattening me up for slaughter."
"No, baby. That's not what it is. Your dad is just in a hard place and he thinks this is best for the family." My mother said with tears streaming down her face.
I couldn't hold it in anymore. I figured I couldn't change anything. "i would never be able to forgive you." I said holding in my tears. " You decided to sell me like I was just another furniture. Well, maybe that's all I am to you, Dad."
I walked out of the room. I running into my room shutting the door. I looked around at the room I had known my whole life. I cried . Not for the marriage alone anymore but for the lost relationship with my parents. Our relationship can never be the same.
All my life my dad had always been distant but there where signs that he loved me. From the little gifts to the meaningful visits. Maybe, I just imagined that all. It all slowly faded as his business got worse. But then I always tried to make him proud of me. By doing well in school, studying a reputable course, eating right just to be perfect in his eyes. I guess that all didn't matter if all he cared about was marrying me off.
I hadn't left my room in two days. The doors were locked, drapes dropped. The room was as dark as I felt. I spent my time crying and thinking of ways to end this stupid marriage charade. I decided to call Naomi she always knew what to do.
Naomi Carter had been my best friend since I could remember she was always there. Generally, I was the friend that didn't speak to a lot of people. Most people just found my gaze very intimidating. Naomi was always the easy and outgoing type and I was the quiet snob. We complemented each other in every way. We became friends after she punched the grade school bully for me. We have been inseparable ever since. She always said we were soulmates. At least she would know what to say right now. I picked up my phone and called her.
" Hey, soulmate. What's good. I just realised we needed to actually meet up for coffee and a book date yesterday. You didn't call finally found another friend to cheat on me with." She spoke cheerfully. " Wait what's wrong?" She finally figured my silence was weird.
I could not even bring myself to talk. I sobbed harder.
" Babes!! You are crying. What's wrong? Never mind I'm on my way." She said in a worried tone.
She had always been like this. Always ready to fight my battles and war. Well, maybe this was too late.
It wasn't long before I heard the bang on my door. "Rina please open up." She said. I knew she would have probably seen my parents but I didn't want to let them in along with her. I counted then pulled the door open.
"Hey, lock the door when you get in. " I said exhausted from crying without eating.
She pulled me into a hug and fresh tears filled my eyes. "Tell me what happened? Was it Cam, Mon or dad. Who hurt you? " She asked.
"Dad. He sold me to the fucking Blackwood's." I exclaimed. The thought of saying it shattered me again.
"Sold in what sense?" Naomi said with eyes laced in confusion. I knew too it was unnatural for that to suddenly happen. "No,no,no that can't be happening. To marry? No we just started our lives. We can't have you marry yet." Realisation struck her. The confused face morphed into annoyance.
"That's what I felt too. What am I going to do, Nai." I said trembling. I was done crying it was time to plan my way of fighting back.
She looked in as much pain as I was. "Well, let's find this so called future husband of yours?" She said whipping her phone out.
" Name?" She asked already typing Blackwood.
"Damien."
She started her search." At least his face is swoon worthy. So, the worry of an old wrinkly man is gone with the wind."
This was something I knew only Naomi could do. For the first time in three days I laughed." "
So is there no going back from this ? Can your dad still change his mind?" She asked with a once again worried expression.
"Nothing. His business is failing and I guess this is the only way to fix it. But did it have to be at the expense of my happiness?" I asked rhetorically. My head already started plotting ways to make this marriage end even if I have to make his life miserable.
"Except we make him hate my guts so much he ends it all. I have always been told I had the ability to rule a person up. Time to run this one crazy." I said as an evil smirk shadow my face. This was the first perfect thing I have thought of all day.
Her eyes widened as a mischievous smile made its way to her face.
"Time to make this hot CEO hate ever agreeing to this." She said with a bright smile.
This is why I loved having her around my evil streak makes its way forward. As I think of his handsome face and how I was going to make it so miserable.
The first time I lay eyes on Damian Blackwood, I understand why people talk about him like he's something more than human—like he's carved from something colder, sharper, untouchable.
He stood tall, broad-shouldered, effortlessly composed, the kind of man who commands attention without asking for it. His suit—black, perfectly tailored—fits like a second skin, emphasizing the lean power in his frame. There's a quiet authority in the way he moved, slow and deliberate, as if the world bended to his will rather than the other way around.
But it's his face that unsettled me the most.
Sharp cheekbones. A jawline cut from stone. Lips that looked like they've never once curved into an easy smile. And his eyes—hazel, flecked with something unreadable, framed by thick lashes too unfairly perfect for someone so…detached. They should be warm, but they were not. They were assessing, calculating, scanning me like I was another equation he needed to solve.
His skin was a rich tawny hue, smooth, flawless, like he had never known a day of stress, even though I knew that's a lie. Damian Blackwood wasn't just handsome—he was polished. Sculpted into something refined, expensive, and entirely untouchable.
And he knew it.
There was an air of arrogance in the way he carried himself, like he expected people to fall in line without question. Like emotions were a waste of time.
Like he's already won.But he hadn't met me yet.
"Let me get you fed and ready to fight this our little battle, You little Devil." She said leaving the room.
Dear husband to be, get ready to meet your worst nightmare.