Arranged Love

**Chapter 1: The Reluctant Bride** Mya stormed into her father's study, her heels clicking an angry rhythm on the polished marble floor. The sun dipped low, casting a golden glow through the tall windows, but she was oblivious to the panorama, her mind a whirlwind of indignation. "Father," she spat, her voice as cold as the ice she felt in her veins. "You can't be serious. Married? To a man I've never met?" Her father, a robust man with silver hair and steely eyes, looked up from his desk. "Mya, dear," he began, his voice calm, as if speaking to a child throwing a tantrum. "This marriage is beneficial for both parties. Christopher Preston brings power and influence to our family, and you—" "Me?" She laughed, a harsh sound devoid of humor. "What do I bring? I'm a-HClMath teacher, Father. I have no dowry, no connections, no—" "Beauty," he interrupted, his gaze sharpening. "You have that in abundance. And now, you have a purpose. You will marry Christopher Preston, and you will make him happy." Mya left the study in a daze, her father's words echoing in her mind. *Make him happy.* How could she make a stranger happy? And why did her father assume she wouldn't have a say in this? --- Two days later, Mya found herself in a grand estate, being led to the library to meet her betrothed. Her heart pounded a staccato rhythm in her chest, her nerves frayed. She was ushered into a room filled with the scent of aged leather and wood smoke. A man stood by the fireplace, his back to her. He was tall, his broad shoulders clad in a crisp suit that did little to hide the lean muscles beneath. He turned as she entered, and the room seemed to shrink. Christopher Preston had a face that was all sharp angles and harsh lines, a jaw clenched as if permanently on the edge of anger. His eyes were like stormy seas, the firelight reflecting in the dark depths. And they were fixed on her, intense, possessive. "You must be Mya," he said, his voice a low rumble, like thunder before a storm. He crossed the room in two swift strides, taking her hand in his. His fingers were calloused, his grip firm. She felt a shiver run down her spine, not from cold, but from something primal, something she refused to acknowledge. "This marriage..." she started, pulling her hand back, but he didn't let go. "It's sudden. I don't know you." His lips twitched, a hint of a smirk. "And yet, here you are," he drawled, finally releasing her hand. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, a rough caress that sent a jolt of sensation through her. "But I assure you, Mya, we have all the time in the world to learn about each other." His gaze raked over her, a slow, burning perusal that left her feeling exposed, vulnerable. "All. The. Time." --- That night, Mya tossed and turned in the opulent bed, her body restless, her mind a chaotic whirl. Chris's words echoed in her mind, his possessive tone sending shivers down her spine. He thought he could have her, could claim her, just like that. But she was no one's possession, no one's prize. She would go through with this marriage, yes. But she wouldn't make it easy for him. He wanted her to learn about him? Fine. But she wouldn't shy away from showing him her sharp edges, her thorns. She would be his wife, but she wouldn't be his to command. No, Christopher Preston had another thing coming. With that resolution, Mya closed her eyes, determined to find sleep. The wedding was in three days, and she had a lot to plan—a future, a strategy... and a battle plan for their marriage. **Chapter 2: Nightclub Encounter** The Velvet Lounge was abuzz with conversation and the dull thrum of bass, the city's elite releasing their inhibitions under the dim lights. Mya sat at the bar, nursing a martini, her third since she'd arrived. She'd come to scope out her new world, to understand the man she was set to marry. But all she'd found was a sea of strangers, each more pretentious than the last. Until Han and Hyunjin walked in. They were a striking pair—Han with his sleek, dark hair and piercing gaze, Hyunjin with his lean height and sharp cheekbones. They spotted Mya, their eyes lighting up in recognition. She braced herself, ready to deflect any unwanted advances, but their smiles were warm, genuine. "Mya, right?" Han asked, sliding onto the barstool beside her. "We've heard a lot about you." "All good, I hope," she replied, her tension easing a fraction. Hyunjin chuckled, taking the seat on her other side. "Chris has been... impressed. Though, he'd never admit it." Mya raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" Before Hyunjin could respond, a presence loomed behind her, a hand landing possessively on her shoulder. Chris. She hadn't seen him arrive, but his touch was unmistakable. A shiver ran down her spine, and she cursed her traitorous body. "We were just getting to know Mya," Han said, his voice casual, but his gaze locked with Chris's. Chris's fingers tightened, a silent warning. "She's not here to make new friends." Mya stiffened, her hackles rising. She'd had enough of his arrogant possessiveness. She turned, looking up at him, her eyes challenging. "You can't control who I talk to, Chris. Or have you already forgotten our little chat about me not being your possession?" A muscle in his jaw twitched, his eyes darkening. But before he could respond, a group of men approached, vying for her attention. Chris's hand slid from her shoulder, his knuckles brushing the side of her breast, sending a jolt of desire through her. She bit back a gasp, maintaining her composure. "You're making a scene," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the music. "Good," he growled. "Let them look. Let them see what's mine." She felt a flush spread across her cheeks, but she held her ground. "I'm no one's to claim, Chris." He leaned in, his breath hot on her ear. "We'll see about that." --- The night wore on, with Chris subtly inserting himself into her conversations, his jealousy a tangible force. It was infuriating, exciting, a dance of dominance and defiance. Mya felt alive, her senses heightened, her body humming with unspent energy. When the DJ switched to a slower song, Chris took it as an opportunity. He grabbed her hand, pulling her onto the dance floor. She stumbled, caught off guard, but he steadied her, his hands settling on her hips. They started to move, their bodies swaying in sync, the crowd around them blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors. "Not mine to claim, huh?" he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. She tipped her head back, her eyes meeting his. "I said I'm not just yours to claim, Chris." He stared at her for a moment, his hands tightening on her hips. Then, he moved suddenly, pulling her into a dark corner, out of sight. His lips came down on hers, hot and demanding, his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth until she opened for him. She moaned, her hands fisting his shirt, holding on for dear life as he plundered her mouth. His hands roamed, caressing her breasts, her hips, her thighs, each touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. She pressed closer, needing more, wanting more. His erection strained against his pants, digging into her belly, a promise of what was to come. He broke the kiss, his breath ragged. "You're driving me crazy, Mya. One kiss, and I'm ready to take you right here." Her response was lost as he captured her mouth again, his Hands sliding beneath her dress, cupping her ass, lifting her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding against him, her desire spiraling out of control. She could feel the damp heat between her thighs, the ache in her core. She needed him, needed him to fill her, to ease this mindless, consuming desire. But he stopped abruptly, setting her back on her feet, his breath coming in harsh gasps. "Not here," he ground out. "Not like this." She stared at him, her heart pounding, her body rebellion at the sudden stop. " завтраk?" she managed, her voice breathless. His eyes gleamed in the dim light. "My place. After the wedding. I can't wait any longer." With that promise, he led her through the crowded club, his hand possessive on her lower back. She didn't protest, didn't argue. She was ready. Ready for the wedding, ready for their new beginning. Ready for whatever came after. **Chapter 3: Power Play** The wedding was a blur of faces and flowers, a symphony of voices mingling with the distant hum of traffic. Mya barely heard a word of the vows, her mind consumed by Chris's promise from the night before. *My place. After the wedding.* The words echoed in her mind, fueling the anticipation that had been building since their heated encounter at the club. As they stood there, hands entwined, the officiant declaring them husband and wife, Mya felt a stirring of something she couldn't quite define. It was more than just excitement, more than just attraction. It was a spark, a flame that threatened to consume them both. The reception was a whirlwind of well-wishes and stolen glances. Each time Chris's eyes met hers, she felt a jolt, a reminder of what was to come. She was dimly aware of the grand ballroom, the chandeliers casting shimmering light onto the dance floor, but her world had narrowed to the man by her side, his hand possessively on her lower back. As the night wore on, Chris leaned in, his breath warm on her ear. "Come with me," he()`. She didn't ask where, she didn't care. She let him lead her away from the crowd, out of the grand hotel, and into the cool night air. The drive to his office was quiet, the tension between them palpable. Mya could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her body tuned to every move Chris made. She felt his power, his dominance, not just in his demeanor, but in the very air around him. His office was a reflection of the man—a sleek, modern space, filled with sharp lines and dark woods. He led her to his desk, his fingers intertwining with hers. The intimacy of the gesture surprised her, a stark contrast to the storm brewing in his eyes. "Sit," he ordered, pushing her gently down onto the plush chair. She complied, her eyes never leaving his. He rounded the desk, taking the seat opposite her, his gaze intense. "You want to know who I am, Mya," he began, his voice low. "What I do." She nodded, her throat dry. "Yes." He steepled his fingers, his gaze sharpening. "I'm not a good man. I deal in power, in influence. I have enemies. Dangerous enemies." She felt a chill run down her spine, but she held his gaze. "And this affects me how?" He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "It affects you because you're my wife. Because my enemies will now see you as a weakness." Mya stiffened, anger surging through her. "I am not a weakness, Chris. I won't be used as a pawn in your games." He smirked, a dangerous curve of his lips. "Strong words from such a small package." She shot to her feet, her fists clenching. "I may not have your power or your influence, but I have my mind, my will. And I won't be controlled." Chris rose slowly, his eyes gleaming. "Control is an illusion, Mya. But power... power is real." He rounded the desk, crowding her space. She held her ground, her breath hitching as he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "You want to know what I do with my power, Mya? I take. I claim. I possess." She sputtered, her indignation rising. "You can't just—" He cut her off, his lips crashing down on hers, his hands ruthless as they roamed her body. She pushed against his chest, but he was immovable, his strength overpowering. She could feel his desire, hard and insistent against her belly, and her own body betrayed her, desire flooding through her veins. He lifted her, setting her on the edge of the desk, his mouth never leaving hers. She groaned as he pushed her skirt up, his hands finding the heat between her thighs. She was wet, her panties damp with her arousal, and he growled in approval, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing, teasing. She gasped, her head falling back, her bodyondoning to the pleasure. He took advantage, his mouth leaving hers to trail down her neck, his hands pushing her bodice down, freeing her breasts. He latched onto a nipple, sucking, biting, as his fingers continued their ruthless assault on her core. She came Suddenly, her body convulsing, her cries echoing in the large office. He caught her mouth, swallowing her cries, his hands continuing to move, drawing out her orgasm, prolonging her pleasure. But he wasn't done. Not by a long shot. He pulled her to the edge of the desk, his hands on her hips, positioning her for his thrust. She watched, her eyes wide, as he unbuckled his pants, his cock springing free. He was long, thick, and she felt a moment of trepidation, memories of their first encounter flashing through her mind. He noticed her hesitation, his eyes narrowing. "You can take me, Mya," he growled. "You were made for me." And with one swift thrust, he proved his words true, filling her, stretching her, claiming her. She cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders, her body adjusting to his size. He gave her no time to get used to him, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm, his cock driving in and out of her, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure through her. She met his thrusts, her hips moving in sync with his, her body rising to meet his challenge. She could feel another orgasm building, her body tensing, her breath coming in short gasps. He sensed it, his hand slipping between them, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing, teasing, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She came again, her body convulsing, her cries echoing in the room. He followed, his body tensing, his cock throbbing inside her, his groan mingling with hers. They stood there for a moment, their bodies entwined, their breaths ragged. Then, he pulled away, his eyes meeting hers. "Tomorrow," he said, his voice hoarse. "Tomorrow, we start our life together. As equals. As partners. But never forget, Mya, I'm the one with the power. And I intend to use it." With that promise, he pulled up his pants, leaving her there, her body sated, her mind racing. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew one thing for sure—marrying Christopher Preston was going to be one hell of an adventure. And she was ready for it. **Chapter 4: The Dark Secret** Mya woke to the soft light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Chris's penthouse. The city sprawled out before her, a canvas of steel and glass bathed in the golden hues of dawn. She stretched, her body deliciously sore from their wedding night and the following day's passionate encounters. But with the new day came a new purpose. She was determined to learn more about her husband, about the man behind the power and the érreexclusion. She slid out of bed, wrapping herself in a silk robe, and made her way to the study. Chris's home office, she'd been told. She pushed open the door, her eyes scanning the room. She knew she was snooping, but she couldn't help herself. She needed to understand the man she'd married. The study was a sanctum of power, much like Chris. Dark woods, rich leathers, and the weight of centuries-old tomes. She started with the bookcases, her fingers tracing the spines of the books, feeling a connection to Chris through the words he'd read. But it was the desk that drew her, the heavy mahogany piece with its hidden drawers and secrets. She started with the top drawer, sifting through the neat piles of papers, finding nothing but business plans and contract drafts. The same with the second drawer. But the third drawer was locked. Mya felt a frisson of excitement, a thrill of the forbidden. She pulled out the small lock-picking set she'd used as a teenager, a remnant of her rebellious past. It took her only a moment to overcome the simple lock. Inside, she found a thumb drive and a file folder. She plugged the thumb drive into the desktop computer, her heart pounding as she waited for it to load. It was a video, dated a year ago, showing Chris in a dimly lit bar. But it wasn't the setting that made her blood run cold. It was the man sitting across from Chris—the man with a gun pointed at Chris's temple. She hit play, her eyes glued to the screen. Chris was tense, his jaw clenched, but there was no fear in his eyes. Instead, they burned with an intensity she'd come to recognize. The other man talked, his voice barely above a whisper, but the camera picked up every word. He was one of Chris's suppliers, demanding more money, threatening to expose Chris's operations if he didn't comply. Chris listened, his expression never changing. Then, he leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "You think you can blackmail me? You think you can threaten me and my business?" He chuckled, a cold sound that sent a shiver down Mya's spine. "I own you, James. I own every piece of your pitiful life. And if you ever try to bite the hand that feeds you, I will end you. Do you understand?" James paled, his hand shaking. "I-I understand, Chris. I'm sorry—" But Chris wasn't finished. He stood, towering over James, his voice a low growl. "You will apologize to me? You will grovel at my feet? You will do nothing of the sort. Because if you ever threaten me or my business again, I will not only end you, but I will also ruin your family, your friends. Everyone you've ever cared about. Do you understand?" James nodded, his face ashen. "Yes, Chris. I understand." Chris looked at the camera, his eyes hard, his voice steel. "Let that be a lesson to anyone thinking of threatening me, my business, or my family. I will not hesitate. I will not mercy. I will destroy you." Mya felt a chill run down her spine, her heart pounding in her chest. She'd known Chris was powerful, dangerous even, but this... this was something else entirely. She was looking at a man who ruled with an iron fist, who was willing to go to any lengths to protect what was his. She grabbed the file folder, flipping it open. Inside were photos—photos of her. Her at school, her at the grocery store, her at home. And among them, a photo of her talking to Hyunjin at the club. The date was from the night before the wedding, just hours before Chris had found them. She could see the handwritten note in the margin, Chris's words clear and precise. *Mine*. *Always*. She felt a stirring of unease, a prickling at the back of her neck. Chris had been watching her, tracking her. He'd known about her before they'd even met. She felt violated, unsure of where the line between protective and possessive lay. She heard footsteps behind her, the creak of the door opening. She whirled around, her eyes meeting Chris's. He was still in his pajama bottoms, his hair disheveled, a dark shadow on his jaw. But his eyes... his eyes were as stormy as she'd ever seen them. "You shouldn't be in here," he growled, stalking towards her. But she held her ground, her heart pounding in her chest. "I found this," she said, holding up the file. "I found out about your business, Chris. About the danger you're in." He stopped, his eyes narrowing. "And you think you can protect me? You think you can keep me safe?" She lifted her chin, her voice steady. "I think I can help." He laughed, a cold sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "You can't help, Mya. You're a liability. You're a weakness I can't afford." She felt a pang of hurt, but she pushed it aside. "Then why marry me? Why put me in danger if I mean so little to you?" He stepped closer, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. "Because you're mine, Mya. Because I can't live without you. Because I would rather have you by my side, in danger, than not have you at all." She stared at him, her heart pounding, her body betraying her, responding to his touch. He leaned in, his lips capturing hers, his kiss hot, demanding, possessive. She responded, her hands tangling in his hair, her body pressing against his. He growled, his hands sliding under her robe, finding her bare skin, his palms caressing her breasts. He lifted her, setting her on the desk, his mouth never leaving hers. She gasped as he pushed her robe aside, his fingers finding her core, stroking, teasing. She moaned, her head falling back, her body arching into his touch. But he wasn't done. He pulled away, his eyes meeting hers, his voice a low growl. "I need you, Mya. I need to possess you, to claim you. To make you mine, completely." She nodded, her breath hitching, her body aching with need. He pushed her robe off her shoulders, his eyes ravenous as he took in her naked body. He pulled his pajama bottoms down, his cock springing free, hard and ready. He positioned himself at her entrance, his hands on her hips, and with one swift thrust, he entered her. She gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her body adjusting to his size. He gave her no time to get used to him, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm, his cock driving in and out of her, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure through her. "Chris," she gasped, her body tensing, her orgasm building. "Please, I can't—" "Come for me, Mya," he growled, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing, teasing. "Come for me, now." And with those words, she did, her body convulsing, her cries echoing in the study. He followed, his body tensing, his cock throbbing inside her, his groan mingling with hers. They stood there for a moment, their bodies entwined, their breaths ragged. Then, he pulled away, his eyes meeting hers. "We have a lot to discuss, Mya. A lot to plan. But right now, all I want to do is take you to bed and make love to you until neither of us can move." She nodded, smiling, her heart full. She didn't know what the future held, didn't know how they would navigate this dangerous world together. But she knew one thing for sure—she was his, and he was hers. And they would face whatever came their way, side by side. With that promise, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her to their bedroom, where the rest of the world faded away, and it was just the two of them, their love, and the fire that burned between them, a furnace that would melt the coldest of winters and the darkest of secrets. **Chapter 5: Obsession Unleashed** Mya hummed as she folded the laundry, the sunlight streaming in through the large windows, painting a golden hue on the hardwood floor. Chris had been gone for the past two days, dealing with some business matter, and she missed him. She missed his presence, his dominance, his voracious appetite for both power and her. She couldn't wait for him to return, to hold her, to make her feel alive. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ringing of the landline phone. She picked it up, her curiosity piqued. No one ever called her on that line; it was always Chris's business associates. She put it on speaker, her brows furrowed. "Hello?" she answered, her voice crisp. A low chuckle echoed through the line, sending a shiver down her spine. "Mya, my dear. It's been a long time." She shivered, recognizing the voice. It was James, the man from the video, the man Chris had threatened. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice steady despite the fear coiling in her stomach. "I want to talk about your husband," James replied, his voice smooth. "And how he's been using me, using my business to launder his dirty money." Mya's heart pounded, her breath coming in short gasps. "That's between you and Chris—" "Oh, but it's not," James interruption, his voice turning cold. "Because you see, Mya, I've decided to take something of Chris's, something he values. And that something is you." Her blood ran cold, a shiver of dread coursing through her. "You can't—" "I can, and I will," James continued, his voice harsh. "You'll come to me, Mya. You'll come to me, or I'll expose Chris, ruin him. And then, I'll come for you. I'll take you, make you mine. Do you understand?" She felt a wave of nausea, her mind racing. "I won't—" "Tell Chris," James interrupted, his voice turning into a growl. "Tell him. I want him to know that everything he loves, everything he cares about, is at risk. I want him to know that I can take it all away." The line went dead, leaving her staring at the phone, her heart pounding, her mind in turmoil. She wanted to scream, to cry, to curse James, Chris, this entire dangerous world they inhabited. But all she could do was stand there, frozen, her body shaking. The sound of the front door opening jolted her out of her stupor. Chris. He was home. She rushed out of the laundry room, her eyes finding his, her heart in her throat. He looked up, his gaze softening as he saw her. "Mya," he breathed, dropping his briefcase, his arms opening. She ran to him, burying her face in his chest, her body shaking with unshed tears. He held her, his hands stroking her hair, his voice a low rumble, asking what was wrong. She pulled away, her eyes meeting his. "James called," she started, her voice wobbling. "He knows about us, about you. He said... he said he wants to take something of yours, something you value. And that something is me." Chris's expression darkened, his eyes turning stormy. "He threatened you?" She nodded, her breath hitching. "He said... he said I should come to him, or he'll expose you, ruin you. And then... and then he'll come for me." He looked at her for a moment, his gaze intense, his jaw clenched. Then, he cupped her face, his thumbs wiping away her tears. "He won't touch you, Mya. I won't let him." "But what about you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What about your business?" He laughed, a harsh sound devoid of humor. "My business doesn't matter, Mya. Not when it comes to you. You're everything to me. You're my life, my love, my obsession. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe." She felt a spark of hope, a glimmer of love amidst the darkness. "But how—" He slid his hand to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, his grip possessive. "I have ways of handling men like James. But first..." His gaze dropped to her lips, his body leaning into hers. "First, I need to remind you who you belong to." She gasped as he captured her mouth, his lips hot, demanding, his tongue delving deep, claiming her. Her body responded instantly, her heart pounding, her breath coming in short gasps. She pressed closer, her hands tangling in his hair, her body aching with need. He growled, his hands sliding down her back, cupping her ass, lifting her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding against him, feeling his erection through his pants, hard and long. He carried her to the bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers, his hands exploring her body, caressing, squeezing. He laid her on the bed, his body covering hers, his gaze intent, possessive. "Mine," he growled, his voice a low rumble. "You're mine, Mya. No one will take you from me. No one will threaten you, hurt you. You're mine to protect, mine to cherish, mine to love." She felt a tear slip down her cheek, her heart swelling with love, with joy, with fear. "I'm yours, Chris. Always." He claimed her then, his mouth finding her neck, her breasts, her belly, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched. He stripped her, his eyes ravenous as he took in her naked body, his touch reverent, worshipful. She arched into him, her body aching with need, her desire spiraling out of control. He positioned himself at her entrance, his gaze meeting hers, his voice a low growl. "I need you, Mya. I need to possess you, to claim you, to remind you who you belong to." She nodded, her breath hitching, her body ready, eager. He thrust into her, filling her, stretching her, his body moving in a punishing rhythm, his cock driving in and out, sending jolts of pleasure through her. She met his thrusts, her hips rising to meet him, her body climbing higher and higher, her orgasm building, coiling, ready to explode. He sensed it, his hand slipping between them, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing, teasing, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She came suddenly, her body convulsing, her cries echoing in the room, his name on her lips. He followed, his body tensing, his cock throbbing inside her, his groan mingling with hers. They stayed like that, their bodies entwined, their breaths ragged, their hearts pounding in sync. As they catch their breath, Chris leaned in, his lips brush hers, his voice a low growl. "I love you, Mya. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, to keep you by my side. You're my obsession, my love, my life. And I will never let you go." She smiled, her heart full, her body sated. "I love you too, Chris. And I'm yours, forever." With that promise, they sealed their bond, their love, their obsession, ready to face whatever came their way, together. Because in the end, it didn't matter what dangers lurked around the corner, what threats loomed on the horizon. All that mattered was their love, their passion, their unbreakable bond. And they would face it all, side by side, their hearts intertwined, their love a fortress that could withstand even the darkest of storms. The End.