Chapter 1 Drunken Marriage

Amanda's POV

At the Beverly Wilshire Hotel

"I'm married!" The thought crashed through my mind as I woke with a splitting headache. I grabbed my temples, pain stabbing behind my eyes. Yesterday, my boyfriend of a year crushed me when he broke off our engagement, casually telling me he'd marry my step-sister within a week.

Hurt and anger had sent me to a bar downtown, where I'd drowned my sorrows until everything blurred. And somehow, in that drunken mess, I'd found myself a husband. Not just any man, but a gorgeous one who looked straight out of a magazine. In a bar? Was he some kind of model? I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry.

My eyes widened. I had a shotgun wedding with a complete stranger?

Before I could think clearly, my phone rang. Elizabeth Davis, my stepmother. Great.

I answered, and her shrill voice hit my ear. "Amanda Davis! Where the hell were you last night?"

I turned down the volume, anger bubbling up inside me. Elizabeth had hated me from day one, but I wasn't that scared little girl anymore.

"At a friend's place," I said coldly. "Is there a problem?"

Elizabeth took a sharp breath. "Get home NOW. Your father wants to talk to you. It's urgent."

She hung up before I could respond. Typical Elizabeth – always cutting me off. I rubbed my eyes, frustration burning inside me. If I didn't show up, she'd use it as another weapon against me.

As I stood, a tall figure entered the room, and my heart skipped. The man carried himself with obvious confidence, his deep blue eyes fixed on me. His crisp white shirt emphasized broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms.

When he moved, I noticed the subtle definition of muscle beneath his clothing. A strand of dark hair fell across his forehead as he stepped closer, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. I felt heat rise to my cheeks as his gaze met mine. The air between us filled with unspoken tension.

From what I could remember, this was Ethan Blackwood – the stranger I'd married last night.

I opened my mouth, then shut it. Elizabeth's demand weighed on me. "I'll explain about last night another time," I said, my voice strained. "There's an emergency at home. I need to leave."

To my surprise, he nodded, his face unreadable. "Alright. I'll drive you."

I hesitated, torn between wanting to escape this man and practical reality. Getting a taxi here would be nearly impossible, and I couldn't be late – Elizabeth would use that against me too.

Ethan drove an expensive black car that screamed money and power. He moved through traffic with ease while I sat stiffly beside him, stealing glances at his profile. Strong jawline, straight nose, intense blue eyes on the road as if I weren't silently panicking next to him. Shame washed over me. How drunk was I to marry someone who looked like that? What mess had I created?

We arrived at my family's house. I mumbled thanks and hurried out, nearly colliding with Madison – my step-sister who'd stolen my fiancé. Her eyes widened at the expensive car, shock turning to something uglier. In LA, cars that nice were rare – even Nathan's family probably couldn't afford one.

Madison's expression shifted to open jealousy and calculation. I could see wheels turning in her head. Did she think I'd traded my dignity for money? That I'd become some rich man's mistress?

I hated looking at her face. This step-sister, barely months younger than me, who'd been going behind my back with Nathan. I walked past without a word, refusing to show how much she'd hurt me.

Inside, my father ambushed me. "Amanda! Where were you last night? I heard you went to a bar and didn't come home! You're a young woman – what will people think?"

I kept my face blank while inside I seethed. I'd been back almost a year, and Richard had barely noticed me except when convenient. Now suddenly he was playing concerned father? His fake concern made my stomach turn.

Seeing my silence, Richard's face reddened. He stepped forward, hand raised. I flinched. Elizabeth quickly grabbed his arm.

"Richard, please calm down," she said sweetly. "Don't get upset – it's bad for your health. I'm sure Amanda didn't mean to cause trouble."

"Didn't mean to?" Richard shouted. "She was out all night with some man! Who would marry a girl with her reputation?"

I couldn't stop my bitter smile. The irony. They were putting on quite a show – concerned father and understanding stepmother. What a joke.

Madison entered, rushing to Elizabeth with a smirk. "Mom, I saw Amanda getting out of an expensive car. How does a country girl like her know someone important?"

The question hung there: how did Amanda know someone so powerful?

"Amanda! Did you do something reckless?" Richard demanded, eyes bulging.

Reckless? Was marrying a stranger reckless? Absolutely.

Seeing I wouldn't answer, Richard sighed. "Fine, whatever you did, I won't ask. Since Nathan broke your engagement, I found you a new fiancé. Harold Wilson, head of Wilson Group. He's seen you and approves. Tomorrow, he'll come to make it official."

Harold Wilson? If I remembered right, he was forty-something, with a wife who died six months ago, leaving two sons. People said even when his wife was alive, he spent nights partying. Some said he drove his wife to an early grave.

"He's almost your age," I finally spoke sarcastically. "Are you finding me a husband or a father?"

Richard exploded, pointing at my face. "Who do you think you are? You grew up in the countryside – you're nothing but a hick! It's your good fortune Wilson would even look at you!"

"I don't need that fortune. You can have it," I replied. I knew this urgent call wasn't for anything good.

Seeing my refusal, Richard dropped the act. "This isn't up for discussion. I already accepted Wilson's payment. Tomorrow, he's coming to make it official, and you will accept whether you want to or not!"

I felt the color drain from my face as cold horror washed over me. So this was their grand plan all along. With Nathan breaking our engagement, they needed to secure another profitable alliance – and they couldn't care less about what I thought or felt. I was nothing but merchandise to them, a bargaining chip to be traded for business connections and social advancement.

"I'm already married," I stated flatly, the words dropping into the room like bombs.

The room went so silent I could hear the ancient grandfather clock ticking in the hallway. Three pairs of eyes stared at me in utter shock, mouths hanging open in various expressions of disbelief.

"What... did... you... say?" Richard finally whispered, each word dragged out as if he couldn't process what he'd heard.

"I got married yesterday. I have the certificate." I showed them the photo of our marriage license on my phone – a precaution that now seemed wise.

Elizabeth laughed nervously. "You're joking. This must be fake."

"It's legally binding," I replied coolly. "Check with the county clerk if you don't believe me."

Richard's face turned an alarming shade of purple, looking ready to burst a blood vessel. "WHO?" he roared, spittle flying from his mouth. "WHO DID YOU MARRY?"