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Sweet Captive Wife: You Belong to Me, Forever Novel Cover

Sweet Captive Wife: You Belong to Me, Forever

Kiara Watson lived a miserable life, constantly eclipsed by her beautiful sister, Cloe. Her world shifts when she is forced into a connection with Archie Villarreal, the powerful billionaire heir. After Cloe orchestrates a cruel deception, Archie directs his immense fury toward Kiara. Trapped by her resemblance to her twin, she faces his harsh retribution. Archie vows to never let her escape, sparking a stormy, intense saga of passion and vengeance.
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Chapter 1

Music filled her mother's room while Kiara spun across the floor with a broom in her hands. Whenever the Watson mansion hosted one of its lavish parties, excitement always bubbled inside her. She never attended as a member of the family. Instead, she remained on the sidelines and worked like any other employee in the house that carried her own last name.

Life had never handed her the same comfort that her twin sister Cloe enjoyed. Even so, Kiara refused to let that difference crush her spirit. She studied hard at the university, and kindness came naturally to her. Still, she had enough backbone to stand her ground whenever her classmates crossed the line.

Most days, she dressed in loose shirts and worn pants that made her look more like a boy. Her family never bought her clothes, so she survived on the old outfits her best friend passed down to her.

A sudden burst of loud clapping snapped her out of the dream she had been drifting through. In her imagination, she had stood in the center of the grand hall while a sparkling gown shimmered around her like something from a fairy tale. When Kiara blinked her hazel eyes open, the golden flecks in them caught the light. The person applauding stood right in front of her.

"Cloe..." she called out quietly as warmth crept into her cheeks.

"What were you daydreaming about, little sister?" Cloe said. She stopped clapping and walked over to the stereo before switching the music off. Her serious gaze stayed fixed on Kiara.

"It wasn't anything important, Cloe. What do you want?" Kiara asked. She lowered the broom and kept sweeping the floor as she forced herself back into the dull reality she knew too well.

"Are you upset because you can't join the big party tonight?" Cloe smiled. "There will be plenty of handsome men there. The kind with real status. Who knows, maybe tonight I'll meet the billionaire who's finally going to treat me like the queen I am."

"I honestly don't care about that, Cloe. Go enjoy your party. I'm finished here." She walked toward the door. Before she could step out, Cloe grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"If you keep acting like this, I'll tell Mother that you're causing trouble. Do you already know what happens when she hears that?" Her eyes carried the arrogance of someone who believed she stood above her own sister.

"Go ahead and blame me if you want. That's nothing new. You always point your finger at me even when I haven't done anything wrong. Honestly, I hope that billionaire you're chasing finally shows up and takes you far away from here. Maybe then I'll get a little peace."

"What did you just say to me!?" Cloe shouted. Anger rushed through her, and she grabbed Kiara by the shoulders before shaking her.

"How dare you talk to me like that?" she snapped.

"Cloe! Kiara!" The deep voice of their father thundered through the room. Mr. Maxwell Watson's tone carried enough authority to silence both of them at once.

Cloe quickly released her sister. As soon as Kiara saw him standing there, she lowered her head and gave a small curtsy.

"Father, welcome home. Is there something you need from me?" she asked politely. She respected him deeply and loved him despite the distance he always kept between them. He never introduced her as his daughter. He never even called her that. Whenever he spoke of family, only Cloe received that recognition, as if Kiara's presence embarrassed him.

"Hello, Daddy." Cloe greeted sweetly. She hurried over and wrapped her arms around him. Then she kissed his right cheek several times.

"Cloe, not now," Maxwell replied. He gently moved her aside. "I need to discuss something important with you."

"Of course, Father. I'm listening," Cloe responded. Her voice turned soft as she put on the image of a perfect and obedient daughter.

"Cloe..." Maxwell wiped the sweat forming on his forehead. "The real estate company is in serious trouble. The Villarreal family has started putting pressure on me."

"The Villarreals?" Cloe muttered, her expression tightening with concern.

"They hold a large share in the company, and now they want to pull their investment. If they go through with it, the entire business will collapse. Everything had been running perfectly, and then suddenly this happened. I tried to reason with them, but they refused to listen. They were furious, and I still can't figure out what triggered it." He released a heavy sigh.

Across from him, Cloe's mind drifted to the memory of what she had done earlier. The voice of the man who had condemned her still echoed in her thoughts.

"What exactly are they asking for, Dad?" she asked, curiosity filling her voice. While the conversation unfolded, Kiara quietly turned toward the door. The matter clearly had nothing to do with her, and no one expected her to stay. In her father's eyes, she barely mattered, so he didn't even notice when she started to leave the room.

"They made one condition. They want you to marry old Mr. Villarreal."

"What!?" Cloe shouted. Shock spread across her face as her eyes widened.

"Cloe, listen to me," he said as he reached for her hands. "I've never asked you to make a sacrifice for me before. That man is already advanced in age. He doesn't have many years left ahead of him. If you marry him, the company will survive. You should also consider the benefit for yourself. Once you become part of the Villarreal family, your status will rise."

"But Dad, he's an old man!" Cloe quickly pulled her hands away from his grip.

"Cloe, that man has already chosen you, and the decision is final," Maxwell said in a firm voice. "I'm not about to watch everything I've built disappear."

"I'm going to tell Mom about this!" she exclaimed.

"You will accept it. I am the head of this house, and my decision stands. Tonight, you will make yourself look stunning so Mr. Villarreal becomes even more taken with you. If he grows more attached, he will be more willing to pour money into the company. Think about the benefits. This marriage could elevate our family's power."

From the hallway, Kiara had heard enough of the conversation to piece together what was happening. A quiet smile slipped across her face as she imagined her spoiled sister being forced to marry an old man.

Inside the kitchen, her mother stood by the counters while carefully supervising the preparations for the evening.

"Kiara!" Samantha called sharply.

"Yes, Mother," Kiara answered. She walked over right away.

"Stop what you're doing and go up to your room. You need to take a shower." The instruction left Kiara confused. "You wouldn't want to look unpresentable at tonight's party, would you?" her mother added with a sly smile.

"Am I allowed to attend, Mother?" Hope sparkled brightly in her brown eyes.

"Of course you can." Kiara felt too thrilled to notice the hint of malice hiding behind her mother's expression.

"Thank you, Mom!" The eighteen-year-old wrapped her arms around her mother in a tight hug. Samantha stiffened immediately, clearly uncomfortable with the affection.

"That's enough." She stepped back while forcing a polite smile onto her lips. "Go and get yourself ready." Kiara nodded eagerly before rushing out of the kitchen.

Excitement filled her chest as she entered her small bedroom. With anticipation building inside her, she loosened the braid that usually held her hair together. Long strands of straight black hair spilled down past her waist. Her sister always mocked it and called it ugly, which was why Kiara usually kept it tied up.

After enjoying a long shower, she stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped tightly around her chest. Water still clung to her skin as she walked into the room. The sight waiting for her made her stop. Cloe sat calmly on the edge of the bed.

"Oh my God!" Kiara cried out as she jumped in surprise. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. What are you doing in my room?" She quickly clutched the towel tighter against her chest.

"I came here for a reason," Cloe said as she rose from the bed. "I thought I'd lend you one of my dresses."

"You? Lend me a dress?" Kiara replied, staring at her with clear disbelief.

"Yes. I have plenty of them anyway, so I decided to give you one to wear tonight."

"Cloe... that's unexpected. Still, thank you. I'll take good care of it and return it clean."

"Of course you will," Cloe said with a bright smile. "But there's something you need to do first. You wouldn't want to embarrass yourself at the party, would you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You need a new look," Cloe said. She flicked her hair lightly, showing the neat cut that rested just above her shoulders. "Your hair should be trimmed like mine."

"I don't think that's necessary."

"Kiara, I'm trying to help you," Cloe murmured. She stepped behind her sister. "I'm doing this because it's better for you." A sly smile crept across her lips.

"That's really not needed," Kiara insisted. "I'm not trying to impress anyone. I only want to be part of the family for once. I just want to share this moment with everyone." As she spoke, a strange feeling crept over her. Her sister's fingers suddenly wrapped around her long hair. "Cloe, don't!"

The grip tightened. Before she could react, Cloe raised a pair of scissors and sliced through the thick strands. "No... please stop!" Kiara begged as panic surged through her. Her hands shook, but it was already too late.

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