Love Beyond Control

I was on the verge of marrying my fiancé, and I couldn't blame my mother, Ashley Dent, for her concerns. After hearing what the maid, Megan Fox, had to say these past few days, I was starting to worry, too.

Everyone else seemed consumed with jealousy while I was left feeling anxious, resting my chin on my hand, looking glum.

"Megan, have you noticed that no one's mentioned Mr. Fleming's looks?" I asked, my brow furrowed.

If he were handsome, people would be singing his praises for both his talent and appearance. The fact that they only talked about his skills suggested his looks were, well, less than desirable.

Finally, the big day arrived.

As I donned my wedding gown, just moments from being escorted down the aisle, a young maid burst in, her eyes darting around in panic.

She hurriedly whispered something to the matchmaker, whose expression shifted from joy to fury in an instant.

"Good-for-nothing scoundrel!" the matchmaker spat, her face darkening.

The room fell silent, and Megan and I exchanged confused glances, both of us completely in the dark.

After a moment, I clapped my hands in realization.

"This wedding definitely isn't happening!"

As if on cue, muffled shouts erupted from outside.

Megan and I crouched by the door, munching on pastries while gossiping.

"Mr. Fleming is quite bold, doing what I wouldn't dare. No matter what he's done today, I'll call him a hero," I said, a grin spreading across my face.

"Right? Totally!" Megan agreed enthusiastically.

"When the news come, let me know. My face is painted up like a monkey's backside!"

"Absolutely!" Megan nodded vigorously.

I patted her on the head, letting out a sigh.

Such a silly girl, only thinking about food instead of gathering intel for me.

Before I could stand up, the door swung open, and both Megan and I toppled to the ground. Ashley stood there, her expression icy as she ordered someone to help me up.

A thrill of excitement ran through me. This was it! I was about to be called off!

She took my hand and patted my shoulder. "Mr. Fleming has been quite reckless, mingling with a commoner from the Arnold family on the day of your wedding. This engagement…"

I couldn't help but smile widely.

"I know you're upset," she continued, her tone softening.

I'm just so relieved.

"However, his brother, Gabriel Fleming, is a decent man. We've discussed it and, to protect your reputation, you'll be marrying Mr. Gabriel Fleming instead."

My smile vanished, my face falling. "What?!"

Before I could protest, Ashley pressed on, "Amy, in a family, we fight for what we want. If we can't win, we'll just add a few concubines for him. Men are easy to handle; you just have to treat them like children."

That was Ashley's philosophy for dealing with life.

I was led into the main hall, where a man stood at the center, strikingly handsome with sharp features that could cut glass.

His eyes were fierce, but there was something captivating about his face that made it hard to look away.

His wedding attire didn't quite fit right, and there were odd stains on his shirt, speckled with red.

As I approached, I noticed no one was watching us. I gently tugged on his sleeve, using my fan to obscure my face, and stood on my tiptoes to lean closer.

"Are you doing this willingly?" I whispered, my heart racing.

Gabriel didn't respond.

Undeterred, I nudged him with my elbow.

"What are my chances of escaping this marriage?"

I rephrased my question, determined to find a way to give him his freedom.

For a moment, I was almost moved to tears by my own thoughtfulness.

Suddenly, Gabriel grasped my arm, almost hoisting me into the carriage. "Do you know I'm in charge of the dungeons? If you try to run, you'll wish you hadn't."

His tone was serious, and I felt a chill run down my spine.

I quickly clamped my mouth shut; I was still young, and I certainly didn't want to meet my end just yet.

I was led into the grand Fleming Manor. The whole process was exhausting—by the time I finally collapsed onto the bed, I felt utterly drained.

With the maid sent away, the room fell into a serene silence.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small pouch, the contents lovingly prepared for me by Megan.

Inside, I found a few of my favorite pastries. As I took a bite of the delicate cake, tears welled up in my eyes.

"Mom promised there'd be some tasty treats on my wedding day," I muttered to myself. "Did the Fleming family seriously think they could starve me?"

It felt almost cruel—like a twisted joke.