Forced Into Marriage to Save the Woman He Loved

When I finally opened my eyes, the first thing that hit me was the ceiling.

It wasn’t mine.

The white was too clean, too sterile—bright enough to sting. For a second, I just stared, disoriented, and then my heart slammed against my ribs as I jolted upright.

Pain tore through my body like lightning.

I hissed, clutching at the sheets as panic rose so fast it nearly choked me.

Where… where was I?

“Ma’am, please.” A gentle voice cut through the silence.

I snapped my head to the side and saw a maid standing near the corner of the room, hands folded neatly in front of her.

“You need to lie back down,” she said softly. “You’re still injured.”

My fingers tightened around the blanket. “Where am I?” My voice came out hoarse, cracking with fear. “Where did you bring me? And—my baby.” My breath hitched. “Where’s my baby? Tell me!”

The maid’s lips parted like she wanted to answer—

But a low laugh rolled in from the doorway, slow and mocking.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Vivienne. Relax. You’re not in danger anymore.”

My blood went ice-cold.

That voice.

I turned, slowly, like my body already knew what my mind didn’t want to accept.

And then I saw him.

“Inigo…” I breathed.

He was leaning against the doorframe like he owned the air in the room—arms crossed, eyes full of amusement, that smug, arrogant smirk on his face like it had been carved there since high school.

Of all people.

It had to be him.

My rival. My enemy. The one person who’d made my life a competition in every possible way—academics, sports, reputation, even our families’ expectations.

Our fathers had once been close business partners. There had even been talk of engagement years ago.

I’d refused.

I’d hated him too much to even consider it.

And now here he was, standing over me like fate was playing the cruelest joke.

I swallowed hard. “Why am I here?” I demanded, voice shaking. “What am I doing in your house?”

Inigo pushed off the frame and strolled in, unhurried, eyes gleaming. “Because you crashed into my car,” he said easily. “And I saved you.”

“My… my baby.” My hands flew to my stomach.

He answered without missing a beat. “Safe. The baby’s fine.”

Then his gaze sharpened slightly. “But you? You’re a mess.” His mouth curved. “After what you overheard tonight… your dear husband being a traitor and all.”

I glared at him, throat tightening. “That has nothing to do with you.”

Inigo chuckled, dark and entertained. “Oh, it has everything to do with me.” He tilted his head. “Here’s a thought—divorce him. Then marry me. You should’ve done it in the first place.”

The nerve.

Heat rushed through my veins. “No!” I snapped. “Absolutely not. I’d rather die. I hate you.”

His grin widened, completely unbothered. “Still got that temper.” His eyes swept over me with lazy approval. “That’s what I like about you.”

Then he snapped his fingers.

The maid immediately turned on the television mounted on the wall.

My breath stopped.

On the screen, Valeria stood smiling for the cameras, her hand linked with Darian’s like they were some perfect couple in a romance drama.

The headline beneath them made my stomach twist:

Love is sweeter the second time around.

So this was the truth.

This was why I’d been hidden away like some shameful secret. Why there were no anniversaries worth celebrating, no public appearances, no pride in calling me his wife.

He hadn’t wanted a wife.

He’d wanted a placeholder.

Someone to keep things steady while he waited for her to come back.

The fight drained out of me all at once, leaving nothing but exhaustion and something sharp and steady underneath it.

I let out a shaky breath. “Fine,” I said quietly. “I’ll marry you.”

The words felt poisonous in my mouth, but my chest burned with determination.

Inigo’s brow lifted.

“But first,” I continued, forcing myself to stay calm, “I need to go home. I need to settle things properly.” I met his eyes. “Come back for me in four days.”

He studied me for a long moment, like he was trying to figure out if I was bluffing.

Then his smirk returned. “Done.”

A few hours later, a limousine drove me back.

The windows were tinted, hiding my face from the outside world, but my heart was pounding so hard I could barely breathe.

As the gates of the Smith mansion came into view, I gripped the seat until my knuckles turned white.

The car rolled to a stop.

The door opened.

And there he was.

Darian.

He was already storming down the front steps, fury written all over him.

“Where the hell have you been?” he barked. “I’ve been calling you nonstop!” His gaze snapped to the limo. “And whose car is that?”

My lips curled into a cold, humorless smile. “Nobody’s.”

“Nobody’s?” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you’re cheating on me.”

A bitter laugh ripped out of me. “Cheating?” I repeated. “Me?”

His jaw tightened. “What is that supposed to mean? You’re acting like this because our anniversary didn’t happen? I told you I was busy.”

“Busy doing what?” I shot back, voice trembling with rage.

Before he could answer, a soft sob floated through the doorway.

We both turned.

Valeria stood there with tears running down her cheeks, holding a bouquet of flowers like she was the victim in this story.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice shaking. “Are you two arguing because of me? I shouldn’t have come back, but… I just wanted to confess. I wanted to apologize. About your mother.” She swallowed. “I know the timing is wrong.”

My eyes dropped to her neck.

And my entire body went still.

The necklace.

The Audrey Hepburn gold set.

The one I’d put on. The one Darian had ripped from me like I was dirt.

It was glowing against Valeria’s skin.

Something inside me snapped.

“You ruined my mother!” I spat, stepping forward. “And you think saying sorry makes it okay?”

Valeria reached for me. “Vivienne, please—”

I slapped her hand away so hard the sound echoed.

She stumbled back, almost falling.

“Vivienne!” Darian thundered, rushing to catch her. His face twisted in fury. “Have you lost your mind? She came here to apologize, and you dare lay hands on her?”

Tears blurred my vision, but my voice didn’t break.

“I don’t want her apology!” I cried. “She’s disgusting! She’s evil!” I turned on him, shaking. “You promised me. You swore you would make her pay. So why is she here? Why are you protecting her?”

“Enough!” Darian snapped.

His eyes were sharp, cold, full of contempt.

“I’ve known her longer than I’ve known you,” he said. “She doesn’t deserve your hatred.” He stepped closer, voice turning hard. “Apologize.”

I shook my head. “No.”

His expression darkened, and his voice dropped into something quiet and deadly.

“If you refuse,” he said, “I’ll pull your mother’s life support.”

My heart stopped.

My whole body went numb.

“You…” My voice came out broken. “You’d kill my mother… for her?”

Darian didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes.”

One single word.

Cold. Absolute. Merciless.

Then he leaned closer, eyes gleaming with cruelty. “So kneel. Right now. And kiss her shoes.”

Valeria gasped, eyes wide. “Darian, no—there’s no need—”

But Darian shot her a look that shut her up instantly.

Tears spilled down my face as my knees gave out.

Humiliation burned through me like acid, searing every nerve.

Slowly—so slowly it felt like dying—I lowered myself to the marble floor.

Then I bent forward and pressed my lips to Valeria’s shoes.

Darian looked satisfied.

Like he’d just won something.

He wrapped an arm around Valeria and led her away, leaving me behind like discarded trash.

Alone.

I pressed my fists against my chest and sobbed until my whole body shook.

But even while I broke apart, something inside me hardened.

Four days.

Just four more days.

And I’d be gone.

No one would ever get to hurt me again.

I wiped my face, forced myself to stand, and staggered back to my room.

My hands were trembling when I grabbed my phone.

But when the call finally connected, my voice was steady.

“Hello?”

“This is Vivienne Smith,” I whispered. “I want to file for divorce. Prepare the papers.”