theunknowngrimreaper
The world saw Constance Blaire Archival through a filtered lens-a whimsical photographer, always chasing the perfect shot, her camera a permanent extension of her hand. They saw the vibrant art installations she frequented, the bustling cityscapes she captured, the quiet beauty in everyday moments she somehow always found. What they didn't see was the suffocating weight of a legacy teetering on the brink. Archival Corporation, a name synonymous with prestige for generations, was bleeding out. And I, Constance Blaire, its unwitting heiress, was about to be sold as the ultimate solution.
My father, a man whose love for the company eclipsed all else, presented the proposition with a grimace. "Constance, this is the only way."
The "way" was a forced union with Blade Arsenic Aragon-a name whispered in hushed tones, synonymous with danger, speed, and an empire built on shadows. He was a notorious racer, an enigma cloaked in mystery, and the ruthless head of the Paragon Organization. Love was a foreign concept to him, and marriage, an inconvenience. I felt a cold dread settle in my stomach. Marry a stranger? A mafia boss? The idea was repulsive.
Little did I know, the feeling was mutual for Blade. He was a storm, I was a quiet observer. We were two worlds destined to collide, forced into a pact neither of us wanted. They say love moves in mysterious ways. But what about a love born of desperation and power plays? Would our hearts ever find a rhythm together, or would the chaos simply consume us?