Arrange Marriage to a Heartless CEO

CHARLOTTE'S POV It's strange how quickly life can pivot. One day, you are arguing with your mother about a future you don't want, and the next, you are standing before a mirror in a wedding gown that doesn't feel like yours, yet somehow it oddly fits. I always thought I'd run away if forced into something like this. But here I was, not running, screaming, or fighting. Just.... accepting. Maybe it was exhaustion. Or the way Aiden had looked at me the night we signed the marriage agreement. His eyes were quiet, guarded but not cruel. Maybe it was because deep down, I knew there was no going back. My father's legacy was gone. My mother had made her bed and I was the final pawn left on the board. So I surrendered, but on my terms. I would walk into this with my head high, even if my heart dragged behind me. The morning of the wedding was calm. Too calm. No last-minute protests or soap opera-style objections. Just makeup artists, photographers, and my mother pretending this was every girl's dream. "You look beautiful," she said, adjusting the veil on my head. I glanced at her reflection beside mine in the mirror. "Do I look like someone marrying for love?" She paused, hands frozen. "You look like someone who's ready." Ready? For what exactly? I didn't even bother to ask. The ceremony was held at the Kingston estate's garden. Grand and luxurious. The kind of wedding fairy tales had been ghostwritten by a board of directors and filled with silent stares instead of sweet nothings. Aiden looked sharp, as always. Perfect suit, perfect posture. But his eyes..... they weren't perfect. They were distant, like he was somewhere else. Still, when he took my hand, there was a spark. A flicker of something real. "Ready?" he asked under his breath. I nodded. "Let's do it." The vows were read, rings exchanged. A kiss that was more political than passionate and then just like that, I was Mrs Charlotte Kingston. The honeymoon was a blur. Not because it wasn't memorable, but because it felt like someone else was living it. We flew to Santorini. Aiden's choice because I didn't have a say. It was heartbreaking. Not having to get your dream wedding or honeymoon. We had separate rooms in a villa overlooking the sea. He never imposed, never assumed. Every moment we shared was polite.... careful. But on the third night, something shifted. We were sitting on the terrace after dinner, watching the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky with a hundred shades of fire. "You are not what I expected." He said suddenly. I turned to him. "What did you expect?" "A spoiled heiress, a reluctant bride. Someone bitter and angry." I chuckled. "Oh, I am bitter and angry. But I'm learning to keep it stylish." He smiled. A real one for the first time since I met him. It changed his entire face. It made his face lit and his eyes pop. "You surprise me too," I said. "You are less arrogant than I imagined." He raised a brow. "Is that a compliment?" "Quite hard to believe it myself, but yes, it's a compliment." I giggled. The silence between us grew comfortable. We sat and just enjoyed each other's company. And for the first time, I let myself look at him not as my husband on paper, but as a man. A complicated and guarded man with secrets behind those dark eyes. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the villain I portrayed him to be. That night, we didn't kiss, nor did we cross any lines. It wasn't the usual honeymoon night where couples spend the night in each other's arms or consummating their wedding. But when I fell asleep, I dreamed of him. Moving into Aiden's mansion was a bit scary. Adjusting to a new environment was different for me. When we got out of the car and entered the mansion, it was as if all the staff knew what to do. They rushed into the living room and arranged. Aiden clears his throat slightly, his voice calm but distant. "This is Charlotte." He paused and continued. "My wife," "She will be staying here permanently. Whatever she needs, you give it to her with no questions asked or any delay. I glanced at him but he didn't look at me. Elsie, Cheryl, you will make sure her rooms are always in order. If she wants to change anything in the east wing, let her. The house was too big and quiet. Aiden gave me the east wing of the mansion and said I could decorate it however I wanted. There were two maids, Elsie and Cheryl, a middle-aged woman, Petra, who is the chef, and coordinates the house. And also lots of securities. Elsie and Cheryl took my bags and took me to the east wing, and Aiden stayed back to give more instructions to the other staff. Aiden stayed in the west wing. Most mornings or evenings, we ate together. I started to notice some things about him. He always drank coffee at 6 a.m. and went to his private gym at 4 a.m. He always stopped at a particular window before leaving the house, like he was trying to remember something. Sometimes we stare at each other and other times our hands brush over each other. We weren't in love but I guess we were trying to make it all work. I had hope. One evening, after a long walk in the garden, I returned to my room to find a gift box on my bed wrapped in a deep green ribbon. I opened the box and I saw a book. "The Secret Garden." A book I had always loved since I was a child. And inside the box I found a note. "I remembered you mentioned this once. Not everything about this has to be a duty. - Aiden. My heart gave a small flutter. It was the gift he had given to me. Not a jewelry or perfume. It was a book. That night, I stood in front of his door for full five minutes before I knocked. He opened the door. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his hair slightly tousled. He looked.... softer. "I wanted to say thank you," I said. He nodded. "You are welcome." There was a long pause. I didn't walk back to my room to avoid the weird silence. Instead, I waited and then I asked. "Do you ever think we could make this work?" He didn't answer, he just smiled. I just walked back to my room smiling. I didn't fall in love with Aiden Kingston that night but I think it's safe to assume that the door to love might be opened a little. I hope he thinks so too.