Madeline's POV
My heart thundered in my chest as I sprinted through the quiet streets toward my aunt's house, the sharp slap of my sneakers against the pavement barely louder than the storm brewing inside me. Gina had called me in a panic, her voice trembling as she told me she saw a line of sleek black cars parked outside our home. She thought something was terribly wrong.
I didn't even finish explaining to my boss. I just peeled off my apron and dashed out of the convenience store, the fluorescent lights behind me fading as fear gripped my spine like ice. I knew those cars weren't just a coincidence.
The moment I turned the corner and saw them for myself, my breath hitched, and I realized my best friend was right.
Men in tailored black suits stood like statues around our quaint little house, their expressions unreadable, their presence like an ominous shadow swallowing the familiar. It looked like a scene from a crime thriller—except this was real, and they were at my door.
I ducked behind a tree for a second, trying to gather my courage. My heart wouldn't stop pounding. I clutched my phone to my chest, willing myself to stay calm.
What kind of trouble had my aunt gotten into?
I knew we were drowning in debt ever since Mom got sick. The hospital bills alone had been a mountain we could never seem to climb. And Aunt Liza—she took us in without question. I still remember the night we knocked on her door, soaked from the rain, carrying everything we had left in two duffle bags. She welcomed us like we were her own.
She never complained. Not even once, and I owed her everything.
And I promised myself I'd help her. I worked part-time jobs just to keep up with our expenses. If there was one thing I could do to spare her from the weight of that crushing debt, I would do it—no questions asked. Even if it meant sacrificing my own dreams.
"Are you Madeline Brownwood?" a voice called out, breaking through my thoughts.
One of the suited men stepped forward. His voice was calm but firm, and I barely managed a nod. My throat felt tight like the words I wanted to speak had been stolen from me.
"We've been waiting for you," he said, his tone polite but unmistakably authoritative. "Please, allow us inside. There's something we need to discuss."
Every step I took behind him felt like I was walking into something far bigger than I could understand. The living room looked exactly the same—cozy and warm—but the atmosphere was suffocating. My eyes fell on the couch.
And that's when I saw my belongings lined up. Ready to go.
The floor tilted beneath me.
My aunt stood up, tears already falling from her eyes. She rushed toward me, her hands trembling as she cupped my face.
"I'm so sorry, Maddie," she said softly, her voice cracking. "Mr. Divenson has paid off everything. The house, the hospital bills… every debt. And I—I didn't know what else to do. I just want you to have a better life. This is your chance."
I staggered back a step, disbelief settling in my chest like concrete. "What… what are you talking about?"
The man from earlier—his voice broke through the air like a blade. "Ms. Brownwood, your presence is needed at the Divenson estate. You are to marry Mr. Hunter Divenson."
For a second, the room seemed to disappear. All I could hear was the rushing of blood in my ears.
"What?" I gasped. "I don't even have a boyfriend—how can I marry someone I don't even know?"
The name Divenson echoed through my mind like a siren.
Of course. Divenson. The name was everywhere, in business news, on magazine headlines. One of the most powerful families in the country.
"You may not know him personally," the man continued as if I hadn't just questioned the entire absurdity of this situation, "but I assure you, many women would trade places with you in a heartbeat. Mr. Divenson is a private man, yes, but highly respected. He's been linked to a few celebrities, though none of those rumors were ever true. His wealth and reputation attract attention, but he is not the playboy the media paints him to be. He values loyalty, discretion… and honor."
I stood there, numb, barely able to process his words.
A stranger. I was being handed over to a stranger.
And not just any stranger—a powerful one. The kind of man who didn't ask for things—he claimed them.
And somehow, my life… I… had become one of those things.
"And you are…?" I asked warily.
He smiled. "Ah. Forgive my manners. I'm Calixto Morgan—Hunter's right hand."
He extended his hand. I shook it, but my mind spun with disbelief.
"Can I say no to this?" I asked, barely breathing.
He shook his head gently. "I'm afraid not. Your father—Frank Brownwood—made a deal with Mr. Divenson years ago."
My entire body went cold.
"I don't know my father," I said flatly.
"No, but he knew you. Ask your aunt. Frank helped your aunt with your mother's treatment. Your father may have walked away, but he never truly forgot you. He has another family, but that doesn't mean he did nothing for you."
It seemed he knew everything. Every piece of my
"Shall we go?" Calixto asked. "Mr. Divenson expects you to arrive before dinner. His family would like to meet you before he returns for supper."
His men took my bags.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. But I didn't.
I looked at my aunt—my only family left. She opened her arms, and I hugged her. No tears came. Not this time. I'd cried enough when my mother died. That was the day I swore I'd never let myself be weak again.
Still, I felt betrayed. But how could I hate her when she had given me everything she could?
I slipped my aunt's phone from my pocket and messaged Gina a quick goodbye. I didn't mention what was happening—just that I'd see her soon.
Inside the black SUV, I sat in the back while Calixto rode in front.
I stared out the window, wondering how I could possibly escape this.
How could my father—who had never once tried to reach me—decide my future like this? An arranged marriage? To a stranger?
I wasn't even sure Calixto was telling the truth.
I'd never been in love. Gina said love was a feeling you couldn't explain—one that hit you the moment you met the right person. But I never had time for love. I was too busy trying to help my aunt pay the bills.
"Don't worry, Maddie," Calixto said suddenly. "Hunter wants you to continue your studies, even after marriage."
I blinked. At least that was… something.
Maybe I could use that. Maybe I could still find a way out.
When we reached the Divenson mansion, my jaw dropped. It wasn't just a house—it was a fortress. Towering columns, sprawling lawns, and a castle-like facade.
It looked like something out of a fairytale.
Inside, Calixto led me upstairs. "This will be your room until after the wedding. After that, you'll share the master bedroom with Mr. Divenson," he said gently.
"You don't need to worry about anything," Calixto said as he opened the door to the room prepared for me. "You'll find dresses for different occasions in your wardrobe. Starting today, Mr. Divenson has requested that you wear clothes appropriate to your new role—which means dresses, from now on."
I blinked, stunned. "You mean… I can't wear pants anymore?"
His tone remained polite, but firm. "It's part of the arrangement. I'm sure you'll look lovely."
My mouth fell open, but no words came out. I wanted to argue. I wanted to say that no man—no matter how rich or important—had the right to dictate what I wore.
But the words lodged in my throat.
I stepped inside the room, and the air seemed to shift. I felt like I had entered another world.
The room was massive, with high ceilings and ivory walls that gleamed under the chandelier's soft golden light. A majestic four-poster bed sat in the center, draped with soft lilac sheets and silk pillows. A vintage white vanity rested against the far wall beside floor-to-ceiling windows that opened to a balcony overlooking perfectly manicured gardens. The scent of fresh roses drifted in with the breeze.
This wasn't a bedroom—it was a scene from a fairytale.
And yet, I felt like the princess who had wandered into a castle only to find herself imprisoned.
Calixto gently excused himself, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. I stood frozen for a moment, not knowing whether to admire the luxury or run from it.
My gaze drifted to the closet, a double-door armoire taller than me. When I pulled it open, I gasped.
It was full of designer dresses—lace, chiffon, satin. Every color, every cut. Shoes too, neatly lined along the bottom shelf. High heels, ballet flats, even embroidered slippers. Everything in my size.
I ran my hand over one of the gowns, the fabric so smooth it felt unreal.
Who ordered all of this? And when?
It felt like someone had studied me, measured me, and prepared all of this before I even knew I was coming.
I found the simplest dress—a pale pink one with a modest neckline and soft fabric that hugged my body perfectly—and stepped into the en-suite bathroom, where even the faucet handles were gold-plated. I took a quick shower, trying to calm my nerves under the warm water, but it didn't help.
After I changed, I stood in front of the vanity mirror.
And froze.
I barely recognized the girl staring back at me.
The girl in the mirror looked… refined. Like she belonged in this place. But I didn't. I wasn't her. That wasn't me.
That was someone else's life.
A knock broke the silence. "Maddie?" Calixto's voice called through the door. "Please meet me in the living room. It's time to introduce you to Mr. Divenson's family."
I hesitated. My hand hovered on the doorknob.
One question burned in my chest, and I needed to ask it before I faced anything else.
"Calixto?" I said softly through the door. "Do you know my father?"
There was a pause, and then his voice came quieter than before.
"Yes. He used to be Hunter's driver. That's how this agreement began."
His words echoed in my mind long after he walked away.
I turned back to the mirror, my reflection staring at me with wide, uncertain eyes.
I was standing in a mansion. Wearing a beautiful dress. Surrounded by wealth beyond anything I could imagine.
And yet, I had never felt so trapped. Maybe I looked like a girl living out a dream, but this wasn't my dream.
It was a beautiful, suffocating cage. And no matter how powerful Hunter Divenson was I wouldn't let him decide the rest of my life. Not without a fight.