Chapter 1
A LOVE I NEVER CHOSE Chapter One — The Marriage I Never Chose
Amara had always believed that some things in life were meant to be chosen.
Who you loved.
Where you lived.
What you became.
And, most importantly, who you married.
She had watched enough women around her sacrifice their dreams for families, traditions, and promises made by people who were long gone. She had promised herself that she would never become one of them.
If she ever got married, it would be because
she loved the man.
Not because her father needed money.
Not because two families had made an agreement.
Not because someone had decided her future without asking her.
She wanted a simple love story.
Nothing extravagant.
Nothing perfect.
Just a man who would look at her and choose her because he wanted her.
At twenty-two, Amara still believed that kind of love existed.
That morning, she was sitting beside the window in her bedroom, working on a sketch of the small fashion boutique she dreamed of opening one day.
Her room was filled with little pieces of the future she had imagined.
Fabric samples were scattered across her desk.
Fashion magazines were stacked beside her bed.
A notebook filled with clothing designs lay open in front of her.
She smiled as she added the final detail to the drawing.
One day.
That was what she always told herself.
One day, I'll have my own shop.
She imagined a beautiful boutique with large glass windows, elegant clothes displayed on mannequins, and a sign above the entrance bearing her name.
Amara's Collection.
It was a small dream.
But it was hers.
She reached for her phone when it buzzed.
A message from her best friend, Nina.
Nina: Are you coming out today?Amara smiled.She typed a reply.
Amara: Maybe. My dad wants me to stay home this morning.The response came almost immediately.
Nina: Again? Something is definitely going on in that house.Amara frowned.
She had noticed it too.
For the past few weeks, her parents had been acting strangely.
Her father had stopped talking during dinner.
Her mother had spent more time crying behind closed doors.
Whenever Amara entered the room, their conversations suddenly stopped.
At first, she assumed it was business trouble.
Her father's company had been struggling for months.
But whenever she asked him about it, he always smiled and said everything was fine.
Amara had believed him.
She shouldn't have.
A knock came at her door.
“Amara?”Her mother's voice.
Amara quickly closed her notebook.
“Come in, Mom.
”The door opened.
Her mother stepped inside.
Amara immediately noticed the sadness in her eyes.
“Mom?
”Her mother forced a smile.
“Your father wants you downstairs.
”“Now?
”“Yes.
”“Why?
”Her mother hesitated.
“He wants to talk to you.
”Amara stood.
“About what?
”Her mother looked away.
“I don't know.
”Amara studied her.
“Mom.
”“Just come downstairs.
”There was something in her mother's voice that made Amara's stomach tighten.
She followed her mother out.
As they walked down the hallway, Amara noticed that her mother was trembling.
“Mom, you're scaring me.
”Her mother stopped.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she reached for Amara's hand.
“I love you.
”Amara blinked.
“Of course you do.
”“No matter what happens today, remember that.
”A strange feeling settled in Amara's chest.
“What is going on?
”Her mother's eyes filled with tears.
“Your father will explain.
”Then she walked away.
Amara stood there, confused.
She slowly descended the stairs.
The sitting room was unusually quiet.
Her father was sitting on the large brown sofa.
He wasn't reading the newspaper.
He wasn't on his phone.
He was simply staring at the floor.
Her mother sat beside him.
Amara stopped at the doorway.
“What happened?
”Her father looked up.
“Sit down, Amara.
”She didn't move.
“Dad, what's wrong?
”“Please.
”Something about his voice made her walk over.
She sat opposite them.
Her father took a deep breath.
“There's something I need to tell you.
”Amara waited.
“I've made a decision concerning your future.
”Her eyebrows drew together.
“What kind of decision?
”He looked at her mother.
Her mother began crying.
Amara's heart began beating faster.
“Dad?”Her father finally looked at her.
“You're getting married.
”For a moment, Amara simply stared at him.
Then she laughed.
It wasn't because anything was funny.
She genuinely thought he was joking.
“Married?
”“Yes.
”“To who?
”Silence.
Her smile disappeared.
“Dad?
”Her father swallowed.
“Damian Blackwood.
”The name hit her like a slap.
Amara stopped breathing.
“Damian Blackwood?
”Her father nodded.
She immediately stood.
“No.
”“Amara—”“No.
”She shook her head.
“You can't be serious.
”“We have already discussed it with his family.
”“You discussed it?
”Her voice cracked.
“You discussed my marriage without me?
”Her father looked down.
“Amara, listen to me.
”“No! You listen to me.
”She began pacing.
“I don't even know this man!
”“You will get to know him.
”“I don't want to!
”Her mother began sobbing.
Amara turned toward her.
“Mom, please tell me this is a joke.
”Her mother covered her face.
That was when Amara knew.
It was real.
Her entire body became cold.
She looked at her father.
“Why?”He didn't answer.
“Why him?
”Still nothing.
“Why Damian Blackwood?
”Her father finally spoke.
“Because we have no other choice.
”Amara stared at him.
“What does that mean?
”“Our company is failing.
”She shook her head.
“I know the company has problems, but—”“You don't know everything.
”Her father stood.
“We owe the Blackwood family a tremendous amount of money.
”Amara's mouth fell open.
“How much?
“How much, Dad?
”“Enough.
”“Enough for what?
”His voice broke.
“Enough to lose everything.
”Amara stared at him.
“The house?
”He nodded.
“The company?
”“Yes.
”“Our savings?
”“All of it.
”She slowly sat down.
Her mind struggled to process what she was hearing.
“How did this happen?
”Her father rubbed his face.
“I made some bad decisions.
”“You said the business was recovering.
”“I lied.
”Amara's eyes filled with tears.
“You lied to me?
”“I was trying to protect you.
”“By hiding this?
”“I didn't want you to worry.
”Amara stood again.
“And now you're giving me to Damian Blackwood to pay your debt?
”Her father flinched.
“You are not being given away.
”“Then what am I?
”Her voice echoed through the room.
“A daughter?
”“A bargaining chip?
”“A payment?
”Her mother rushed toward her.
“Amara, please.
”Amara stepped back.
“Don't.
”Her mother's tears fell freely.
“We love you.
”“If you loved me, you wouldn't do this.
”Her father looked broken.
“I know you hate me right now.
”“I don't hate you.
”She wiped her tears.
“I just don't understand how you can ask me to sacrifice my entire life for a mistake you made.
”He couldn't answer.
That silence hurt more than anything.
Amara walked toward the window.
Outside, the world continued as though nothing had happened.
Children were playing on the street.
Cars passed.
People laughed.
Life continued.
But hers had stopped.
She had always imagined her wedding differently.
She imagined herself choosing a dress with her mother.
Laughing with Nina.
Walking down the aisle while the man she loved waited for her.
She imagined being nervous because she was excited.
Not because she was terrified.
She turned around.
“I won't marry him.
”Her father closed his eyes.
“You don't understand what you're saying.
”“I understand perfectly.
”“If you refuse, the Blackwoods will take everything.
”“Then let them.
”Her father stared at her.
“They'll take the house.
”“Then we'll leave.
”“They'll destroy the company.
”“Then let it go.
”“They can make life very difficult for us.
”Amara's voice became quiet.
“Dad, I would rather live in a small room with nothing than spend my life with a man I don't love.
”Her father looked at her with tears in his eyes.
“You think I don't feel the same?
”She froze.
He walked toward her.
“You think I want to force my daughter into a marriage?
”“Then don't.
”“I can't.
”“Why?
”Her father's face changed.
For a moment, he looked genuinely afraid.
“Because Damian has already made his decision.
”Amara's heart skipped.
“What decision?
”“He agreed to clear all our debts.
”Her father's voice dropped.
“But only if you marry him.
”Amara stared at him.
“Why would he want me?
”Her father looked away.
“I don't know.
”“You do know.
”“Amara—”“You know something.
”Her father said nothing.
She walked closer.
“What did my family do to him?
”He remained silent.
“Dad.
”Nothing.
“Why does Damian Blackwood want to marry me?
”Finally, her father whispered:“Because he asked for you.
”Amara's blood ran cold.
“He asked for me?
”“Yes.
”“Why?
”“I don't know.
”“You're lying.
”“I swear.
”She searched his face.
For the first time, she noticed how frightened he looked.
Not guilty.
Frightened.
“What are you afraid of?
”Her father didn't answer.
Amara took a step backward.
“I need to meet him.
”Her father immediately shook his head.
“No.
“Why?
”“Because you don't know what kind of man he is.
”“Exactly.
”She wiped her tears.
“So let me find out.
”Her father sighed.
“You'll meet him soon enough.
”“When?”He didn't answer.
“Dad, when?
”“Tomorrow.
”Amara's eyes widened.
“Tomorrow?
”“The wedding is tomorrow.
”Her entire body went numb.
“You've already set a date?
”He nodded.
“You've already planned everything?
”“Yes.
”She laughed bitterly.
“Of course.
”Her mother reached for her.
“Amara—”She pulled away.
“I need to be alone.
”She ran upstairs.
She slammed her bedroom door and locked it.
Then she slid down against it.
The tears came immediately.
She cried until her chest hurt.
Until her throat became sore.
Until she could barely breathe.
Her dreams were disappearing before her eyes.
Her boutique.
Her freedom.
Her future.
Everything.
All because of a man she had never met.
That night, Amara stood in front of her mirror.
She looked at herself.
Twenty-two years old.
Young.
Scared.
Alone.
She touched her reflection.
“I'm sorry.
”She didn't know who she was apologizing to.
Maybe herself.
Maybe the girl she used to be.
Maybe the future she was losing.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She stared at it.
It rang again.
And again.
Finally, she answered.
“Hello?
”Silence.
Then a man's voice.
Deep.
Calm.
Dangerously controlled.
“Amara.
”Her heart stopped.
She knew immediately who it was.
“Damian.
”“Yes.
”She gripped the phone.
“What do you want?
”“You already know.
”“I don't want this marriage.
”“I know.
”“Then stop it.
”Silence.
“You can still refuse.
”Amara frowned.
“Really?
”“Yes.
”Hope flickered in her chest.
“Then why are you doing this?
”His voice became colder.
“Because if you refuse, your father loses everything.
”Amara's hope disappeared.
“You're threatening my family.
”“No.
”“Then what do you call it?
”“An agreement.
”“I hate you.
”There was silence.
Then Damian said quietly:
“You don't know me well enough to hate me.
”“I know enough.
”“No, Amara.
”His voice dropped.
“You know nothing.
”She swallowed.
“Then tell me.
”“I will.
”“When?
”“After you become my wife.
”Her heart pounded.
“What happens after that?
”“You'll learn why I chose you.
”“Why?
”Silence.
Then he said:
“Because your family took something from mine.
”The call ended.
Amara stared at the phone.
Her hands were shaking.
She didn't understand.
She didn't know what her family had done.
She didn't know why Damian hated them.
She didn't know why he wanted her.
But one thing was certain.
Tomorrow, she would become Damian Blackwood's wife.
Not because she loved him.
Not because she chose him.
But because her family's survival depended on it.
And somewhere across the city, Damian stood alone beside a window, staring into the darkness.
In his hand was an old photograph.
A photograph of a woman who had died many years ago.
His mother.
Beside her stood a younger version of Amara's father.
Damian's fingers tightened around the photograph.
“You promised me, Father,” he whispered.
His eyes darkened.
“You promised me I would make them pay.
”He looked at Amara's picture.
The woman he was going to marry.
The daughter of the man he hated.
For years, he had planned his revenge.
And tomorrow, it would finally begin.
He didn't know that the woman he intended to use as a weapon would eventually become the one person capable of destroying him.
And Amara didn't know that the cruelest part of their marriage wouldn't be falling in love.
It would be discovering that their love had been born from a lie.
