Chapter 4 Vows or Chains?

Amanda's POV

"I just knew nothing good would come from bumping into Madison this morning." And sure enough, I was right.

Madison barged into my room with her head held high. She crossed her arms over her chest and snorted disdainfully at me. "Amanda, did you get yourself a sugar daddy last night?"

I could see the jealousy eating at her. Despite growing up in the countryside, ever since I returned to the Davis family, everyone compared Madison to me—and she came up short in every comparison.

She had finally managed to snag Nathan, and she couldn't bear the thought of me finding someone with even more power and wealth.

I flinched instinctively when she moved closer—a habit formed from three years with Nathan. Behind his charming public facade, he'd shown me a different side when we were alone.

The subtle pushing, the tight grip on my arm that left bruises, the way he'd back me into corners when I disagreed with him. Nothing that would show publicly, nothing too obvious—just enough to keep me constantly walking on eggshells.

I didn't want to deal with Madison and tried to walk past her to leave.

Madison grabbed my arm roughly in the same spot where Nathan had left a bruise just last week. I winced, and she noticed, a cruel smile spreading across her face.

"Did he hurt you too?" she asked, digging her nails deeper. "You're so pathetic. Nathan told me everything—how you'd cry over the smallest things, how you'd beg him not to leave."

She pushed me hard against the wall, reminding me so much of Nathan that my breathing quickened. "Amanda! People who can afford cars like that in LA are usually old men! You have no shame, crawling into their beds! Good thing Nathan broke up with you already—he'd be disgusted if he knew what you're doing!"

I cowered in the corner, my throat tightening. "Madison, why act innocent? Nathan was my fiancé for three years while you snuck around with him. Doesn't that disgust you?"

Madison's face flushed red as she clenched her fists and raised her hand to strike. I instinctively shrank against the wall. Seeing my fear, she lowered her hand with a smug smile.

"Nathan and I are in love!" she shrieked, "He never loved a country bumpkin like you! You should've heard him mock how you'd tremble whenever he raised his voice!"

I had trusted Nathan completely, endured his control and violence, believing he loved me. Such a fool.

Madison calmed slightly, lifting her chin. "By the way, Amanda, do you know why Dad wants to marry you off to Harold Wilson?"

She laughed softly, pleased with herself. "Davis Group is nearly bankrupt. The Andersons gave some money, but it's nowhere near enough. Harold recently lost his wife and needs to remarry. He told Richard he'd save the company if he married the Davis daughter."

She paused, savoring my reaction. "When Nathan found out, he feared I'd be sent to the Wilsons, so he broke off your engagement and decided to marry me instead. He said he was relieved to finally have an excuse to dump you."

As Madison revealed the truth word by word, my face drained of color. I slid down the wall to the floor, my legs too weak to hold me. Three years of torment with Nathan meant nothing. Three years of hoping he'd change, excusing his behavior, hiding bruises—all for nothing.

"Want to know what's really funny?" Madison towered over me. "Nathan says Harold has an even worse temper. His last wife was hospitalized several times. 'Accidents,' they called them." She laughed cruelly. "You'll fit right in."

The entire relationship now seemed like a sick joke. Looking back at Nathan's "tenderness" over three years made me feel disgusted and foolish. How easily I'd fallen for his apologies, promises, and gifts after bad episodes.

Seeing my pale face and trembling hands, Madison grew more delighted. She lifted her chin, smiling. "Amanda, just wait obediently for Harold's proposal tomorrow! If you're good, maybe he won't hit you too hard."

With that, she slammed the door behind her like a victor. I huddled on the floor, hugging my knees, trying to breathe. The thought of being passed from one abuser to another made me sick.

I remained crumpled long after Madison left, my body shaking. The situation crushed me—completely alone, with no money, no power, and a dying grandfather who needed me. Richard was always distant, but I never imagined he'd sell me to a known wife-beater.

I remembered the bruises Nathan left on my arms, the time he "accidentally" pushed me down stairs for questioning his late night, the constant walking on eggshells... and Harold Wilson would be worse? The thought made bile rise in my throat.

I dragged myself up on wobbly legs, catching my pale reflection. Dark circles under sunken eyes, hollow cheeks from stress and skipped meals—I barely recognized myself. When had I become this empty shell? When had I allowed myself to become property traded between men?

Taking a deep breath, something shifted inside me—not hope, but desperation hardening into resolve. I wouldn't move from one abuser to another. I wouldn't let Richard sell me to save his failing business.

Want me to marry Harold Wilson? I'd rather die first.

I bolted upright as several people stormed in. Elizabeth ordered her servants: "Make her pretty for Mr. Wilson."

They dragged me to the mirror, styled me, and forced me into a blue dress.

Elizabeth's eyes filled with hatred. She knew I was beautiful—snow-white skin, red lips, perfect teeth—just like my birth mother whom she despised.

"Get downstairs. Mr. Wilson will arrive any minute," Elizabeth demanded, pulling my arm.

I frowned, refusing to cooperate.

Elizabeth threatened, "Don't forget your grandfather."

I followed her downstairs. My grandfather was critically ill with organ failure. Despite my medical training, I could only keep him alive on machines.

I'd built a successful medical career but lacked money. When grandfather fell ill, I brought him to LA, never expecting Richard and Elizabeth would use him to blackmail me.

I clenched my hands, and despite my extreme reluctance, followed Elizabeth downstairs.

In the living room, Richard chatted with a man who looked older than his years—balding, with an oily face, potbelly, gold chain, and expensive watch. Despite his wealth, he gave off an unsettling aura. Richard was extremely deferential, smiling as he said, "Mr. Wilson, you'll definitely be satisfied this time."

Hearing footsteps, Richard turned to see me descending the stairs. His eyes lit up as he introduced me, "Mr. Wilson, this is my daughter, Amanda."

Harold's small eyes widened as they shamelessly swept over my body, making my stomach churn. Richard pulled me to sit beside Harold, who nodded with satisfaction.

"I'm happy with Amanda," Harold said. "Let's get the marriage certificate next week. No big wedding—just a simple dinner."

Richard agreed, "Having a big wedding would be wasteful. Frugality is a virtue."

Harold smiled, "After I marry Amanda, you'll be my father-in-law. I won't let Davis Group face crisis. Once we get the certificate, I'll invest immediately."

Richard beamed, "Wonderful! I'll ensure Amanda cooperates to complete the procedures quickly."

They never asked for my opinion, treating me like merchandise on display.

Harold tossed a bank card on the table. "There's a million in there. Gold and jewelry coming tomorrow. Marry me and you'll never worry about money again."

I sat stiffly in my blue dress, looking like a perfect doll while my emotions raged.

After they finished arranging everything, I finally stood up. "I won't marry him," I said coldly. I hit the table with my fist. "I'm already married." I pulled out the wedding ring I'd kept hidden on a chain around my neck.