#Completed
Janette's world is shattered the day she walks into her home, fresh from her graduation, only to find out the people who raised her aren't her real parents. Her true identity? The long-lost daughter of wealthy millionaires, Robert and Ju...
Sometimes, things slip beyond our control, and we’re forced to accept them—whether we like it or not…
Janette paced back and forth, desperately trying to think of a way out of this marriage. How can I marry a man I barely know? she thought, her mind racing.
It had been four weeks since her happiness-stealing father had dropped the bombshell of her arranged wedding. When she demanded an explanation, he had only tightened his grip on her fate.
Today was the wedding day. Erie had been acting strangely ever since the announcement, and as for her fiancé, he was nowhere to be found.
A knock at the door snapped her out of her thoughts. “Go away! I’m not marrying anyone!” she muttered, her voice laced with frustration.
“It’s me, Erie, darling.” Erie’s voice was soft and familiar, a small comfort amid the chaos. She’d been her rock throughout this ordeal, so Janette reluctantly allowed her in.
“Come in.” Erie entered, carrying the wedding dress in her arms. Janette’s heart sank further.
“I was supposed to choose my dress, but Stark didn’t even care,” she muttered to herself.
“Come on, darling. Let’s get you ready. There’s no way out of this marriage,” Erie whispered, earning a sharp, incredulous look from Janette.
“I’m not giving up that easily,” Janette declared, causing Erie to roll her eyes.
“I can’t marry a player. I don’t love him, Erie. How would you feel if someone forced you into a marriage of convenience?” Janette whispered fiercely.
Erie gave her a knowing look and replied softly, “If only you knew, Janette.”
Janette’s eyes widened. “Wait, you mean... you were forced into a marriage too?” she asked, stunned.
Erie nodded, her eyes filled with sympathy. “We don’t always get a choice,” she said softly.
What kind of devil of a father do I have? Janette wondered bitterly.
Their conversation was interrupted by Rebecca, who stepped in, looking apologetic. “Sorry, Jane, but it’s Dad’s orders,” she said.
Two makeup artists, Kristen and Delilah, followed Rebecca into the room, their tool bags in hand.
“I can’t do this, Rebs,” Janette protested.
Rebecca sighed. “He told me to use force if words didn’t work,” she said, her voice resigned. “Sorry, girls, but you can use force if you have to,” she instructed Kristen and Delilah, who nodded in unison.
They grabbed Janette’s hands in a firm grip. “Sorry, Janette, but it’s Mr. Stark’s orders,” Kristen said, her expression conflicted.
“Let me go, Kristen!” Janette struggled to break free, but it was useless.
They forced her into the wedding gown, the fabric heavy and suffocating. The tight grip left marks on her wrists, and Janette felt completely vulnerable. Erie watched with tenderness, tears streaming down her cheeks.
It’s all because of Robert Stark, Janette thought, anger simmering beneath her skin. She mourned the day he took control of her life. Asher Norman might be stunning, but his looks and wealth couldn’t make up for what he lacked—the qualities of a true partner, someone she could actually imagine a life with.
“Don’t cry. You know it won’t help,” Kristen said gently, pulling her out of her thoughts.
“I know it won’t help, but I can’t control it,” Janette whispered, her voice trembling with pent-up emotion.
“Well, keep crying if you must. Just don’t blame me when you look back at your wedding photos and complain about your makeup,” Erie teased, trying to lighten the mood. Janette let out a bitter laugh.
“Don’t worry. This marriage won’t last long anyway,” Janette said. After the makeup was done, her tears had dried, leaving her staring at the girl in the mirror—dressed in white, soon to be Janette Rose Norman, wife to an arrogant billionaire.
“Perfect,” Rebecca said, a hint of forced cheer in her voice.
“You look gorgeous, Rose,” Delilah murmured.
“Thank you,” Janette muttered. She made a silent promise to herself: from this moment on, she was no longer the weak Janette forced into a marriage she didn’t want. She was Janette Rose—a woman who would fight for her freedom.
“Welcome to hell, Asher Norman. You’re about to find out just how much of a bitch Janette Rose can be.”
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