Dangerously Tempted

Chapter 1 Unfair Circumstances

Isabella

"I can understand why you're defensive, Isabel, I do. But you must accept that what's done is done," my father said, for what felt like the hundredth time. For days, he'd been hammering in that same phrase—"what's done is done"—as if my opinion on who I marry didn't matter.

"You're not hearing me, Father," I said, wishing he'd look at me instead of hiding behind the newspaper he was pretending to read.

"I am hearing you," he replied, adjusting his grip on the paper. "I've been hearing you ever since this came up."

"No, you didn't bring it up—you declared it. You made a decision about my marriage without asking me."

With a heavy sigh, he finally lowered the paper so I could see his face. His frustration was clear, but so was mine. I hated seeing him like this, but I had to keep pushing. If I didn't, I might lose any chance of escaping the future my parents had chosen for me.

"I know you think you should have a say, Isabel, but the reality is that we don't always get what we want. This time, you're being denied that choice. I'm sorry, but what's done is done."

Anger welled up inside me, hot and suffocating. I couldn't even form the words for what I was feeling. Instead, tears threatened to spill over, but I blinked them back. I wouldn't let him see me break down.

"Why, Father?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I fought to hold back the tears. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I'm not doing anything wrong, Isabel," he said, his tone deepening. "I'm securing your future, making sure you don't end up like your sister!" His fist slammed against the table, rattling the silverware.

I flinched, heat flooding my cheeks. His anger made me feel small, like I was just another problem he had to deal with.

"I won't argue with you any further," he said firmly. "I've done nothing but consider your best interests, and instead of seeing the positives, you've bombarded me with endless complaints and questions."

His voice rose with the final words, and the tears I'd been holding back finally fell. I wiped them away quickly, knowing there was nothing more I could say. My father's mind was made up.

---

That night, my mother came to my room, quietly opening the door. The squeak of the hinges was the only sound in my otherwise silent space. I had locked myself away, consumed by the painful reality that I was going to marry a complete stranger.

"I just wanted to check on you," my mother said softly, her voice almost a whisper. She was delicate in everything she did, the opposite of my father. She floated across the room, sitting gently at the edge of my bed, causing it to dip ever so slightly.

"I know this must seem scary," she began.

Scary didn't begin to describe it. I wasn't just scared—I was terrified. What if I married someone cold, controlling, or cruel? The possibilities were endless, each worse than the last. Every terrifying thought raced through my mind, one after another.

My mother's eyes were full of pity, and I couldn't stand it. I looked away, hating that she felt sorry for me.

"I..." she started, then stopped, glancing around the room before continuing. "I was in an arranged marriage with your father."

She stared ahead, her voice quiet but steady. "I was scared too. But in my case, I knew him—or rather, I knew of him," she corrected, a small smile lighting up her face. "I imagined everything that could go wrong. I feared I'd end up married to someone cruel, like my mother had been. But your father was different. He was warm when I expected cold. He noticed every detail, and sometimes that frustrated me. I wasn't used to the calm he brought—I grew up in chaos. But he was patient, and though he wasn't without faults, I grew to love those too."

She sighed and placed a gentle hand on my knee. When I looked up, I saw her eyes glistening.

"I know you're angry, and I know you're confused. But believe me, your father only wants what's best for you."

"Couldn't you convince him?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

"No, his mind is made up," she said sadly. "But I trust that the person he chose will be good for you."

"But will they be good to me?" My fear spilled out once again.

She pressed her lips together, hesitating. "I can't know for sure how your spouse will treat you. But I trust your father wouldn't choose someone who would mistreat his beloved daughter."

I nodded, unable to speak. When she left, I lay back on my bed, her words swirling in my mind. The moonlight cast a faint glow across my room, and as I stared up at the ceiling, all I could think about was the unknown future looming ahead of me. Just before I drifted off, one of her phrases stuck in my head: *I know not how you will be treated by your spouse.*

Why didn't she say husband?

Odile

It wasn't like they were asking for much. Mr. Parez simply wanted to secure his daughter's future. I could understand that. When my own father brought up the situation I was wary of what it could mean. Not for myself, but for our families. That was one of the many bullet points in his reasoning. Not only would I finally be married, but it would look good for our family's image. I didn't care that much about it though if I was being honest, I had made up my mind, as long as I am left at peace and not bothered or overwhelmed with whatever is to come I'm fine with what they have decided. If it benefited our families then I was satisfied.

"She'll be moved onto your estate a week from now. Give her time to let everything soak in. I hear that she isn't taking the news all that well." My father laughed and brought his cup to his chapped lips. Out on the balcony, the view of the excessively large field was easily viewable. Monty's children ran around throwing a ball to their giant dog that father caved and finally allowed on the grounds.

"If you could please simply entertain her, this will be a smooth process and business between the Parez's can continue."

"I have no interest in any of the business between the Parez's, I am simply doing this because it will not hurt me by saying yes, it isn't like I truly wanted to get married. You know that." There was a lie in that statement, he knew it.

Dad looked over at me, concern evident in his expression.

"You know, Odil, we don't have to do this. If you're uncomfortable, we could find another way to work with the Parez family. But this just seemed... easier. You know how Reginald feels about his daughters, the last thing he wants is anymore bad press surrounding his family."

I knew he was right, there were other things that could have been done to join the Parez family and the Stone's together, but this truly was the simplest way that could solve both issues.

"Again, this marriage doesn't hurt me. And besides, you said that their daughter isn't even keen on marrying me. I think if anything you should be worried about her."

Dad raised his hand as if to belay what I had said.

"If I know Reginald, he will get his daughter on board with the whole thing. As long as you are truly ok with all of this we can move forward."

Was I alright with this? I couldn't shake the feeling—one that had settled in the pit of my stomach—that marriage meant surrender. It was giving someone the power to hurt you, to make you vulnerable. My own experience had taught me that much. Marrying a stranger didn't seem like the worst thing in the world—yet there was something unsettling about it. Maybe it was the fact that she was already resistant to the idea. A marriage built on reluctance... could it ever work?

But I quickly brushed the thought away, before I got stuck in a spiral and turned my attention back to the kids on the lawn.

"Yes, I am truly ok with this."