My father sat across from me, his hands folded tightly on the table, his expression grim.
“Son, I wouldn’t ask this of you if there was any other way.”
I clenched my jaw. “You’re telling me the only way to save our business is for me to marry a woman I’ve never even met?”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Adriana is Victor’s daughter. The merger with his company is the only thing that can save us now. But he’s… traditional. He wants to unite the families.”
“So I’m just a bargaining chip?” The words tasted bitter in my mouth.
“James, please understand—”
“No, Dad. I understand perfectly.” I let out a harsh laugh. “You built this company, made all the decisions that led to this point, and now I have to clean up your mess by selling myself like some medieval prince.”
His face fell. “Just meet Adriana before you decide.”
I wanted to refuse. But then I saw it—the raw desperation in his eyes.
“Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll meet her. But I’m not promising anything.”
A few days later, I found myself sitting across from Adriana in an upscale restaurant. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her dark eyes sharp and intelligent. Her voice was smooth, confident, with just the right amount of warmth.
“I appreciate you agreeing to meet me,” she said, giving me a small smile. “This situation is… unconventional, but I think we can make it work.”
She twirled a lock of hair around her finger, watching me. “So, James, what would you like to know about me?”
The conversation flowed easily. Adriana was witty, surprisingly easy to talk to. By the time we parted ways, I found myself rethinking my opposition.
“She’s incredible,” I told my father the next day.
Relief washed over his face. “So you’ll do it?”
I hesitated. Something still felt off. But seeing the hope in my father’s eyes…
“Yes,” I finally said. “I’ll marry Adriana.”
Our wedding was a business transaction wrapped in white lace and roses. The pews were filled with corporate partners instead of friends, the vows felt more like contract terms, and even the kiss seemed staged—brief, proper, just for show.
The reception dragged on, and I found myself longing for the moment we’d finally be alone. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this strange marriage, but I figured we’d at least start with an awkward conversation about boundaries.
Instead, the moment we stepped into our hotel suite, Adriana kicked off her heels, sat on the edge of the massive bed, and locked eyes with me.
“From now on, you must do everything I tell you.”
I laughed, thinking she was joking. “Right. And what’s your first command, Your Highness?”
“I’m hungry. Go get me a burger from the McDonald’s on Grant Street. Walk there.”
I blinked. “Adriana, it’s almost midnight. That’s nearly two miles away.”
“I’m aware.” She smiled coldly. “Better get going.”
I stared at her, waiting for the punchline. It never came.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious, James. My father only agreed to this marriage because your father promised you’d do whatever I wanted. That was the deal. So, you can either be my servant… or watch your family go bankrupt.”
I was stunned. Just hours ago, she had been charming, even kind. Now, she was a stranger—an authoritative one, and one I apparently couldn’t refuse.
“Fine. One burger coming up.”
As I stepped into the elevator, I pulled out my phone and called a taxi. If I was trapped in this marriage, I wouldn’t be completely powerless.
The next morning set the tone for what became my new normal. Adriana shook me awake at 6 a.m.
“Press my blue suit,” she instructed. “Then make coffee. Black, one sugar.”
I rubbed my face. “I’m not your butler.”
She arched a brow. “No, you’re my husband. Which means you’re whatever I need you to be.”
Every day brought new demands. Wash her car by hand. Pick up her dry cleaning. Massage her feet after work. Each task more demeaning than the last.
“Why are you doing this?” I finally asked one evening as I polished her designer shoes.
She smirked. “Because I can. What could be better than having a man who caters to my every need?”
I continued in silence, but my mind was racing.
She thought she was breaking me, but she was teaching me instead. Every demand revealed something about her routines, her weaknesses. I was learning how to fight back.
“She’s turned me into her personal servant,” I told my father.
His face fell. “I had no idea, son. But the contract with Victor—”
“Can’t be broken without bankrupting us,” I finished. “I know.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be.” I already had a plan.
Tiny wireless cameras were easy to install. I placed them everywhere—our bedroom, her study, the kitchen, the living room.
For two weeks, I collected evidence. Adriana treating me like a dog, threatening to destroy my family, laughing on the phone about how she had me “completely under control.”
But her Instagram told a different story. “Power couple,” she called us. If only her followers knew the truth.
It all came to a head on a rainy Tuesday night.
“I want sushi,” she announced from the couch. “From Akira. You’ll walk there.”
“That’s three miles away.”
“So? Take an umbrella.”
“No.”
The word hung in the air. She slowly raised her head, eyes narrowing. “What did you say?”
“I said no, Adriana. I’m not going.”
She stood, her face flushing with anger. “You don’t say no to me. Ever. Or have you forgotten what happens if you don’t play along?”
“Go ahead,” I challenged. “Call your father. Tell him how disappointed you are.”
She smirked and dialed. “Daddy? James is being difficult. I think we need to reconsider—”
“Adriana.” Her father’s voice was ice cold. “What the hell have you been doing?”
Her smirk vanished. “What do you mean?”
“James sent me videos. Dozens of them. I had no idea this was what you had in mind. You’ve embarrassed this family. You’re getting divorced. Those are his conditions, and I agree with them.”
She turned to me, eyes wide. “You recorded me?”
I nodded. “Every moment. Every demand.”
She looked like she wanted to scream. But she knew she’d lost.
“You can’t do this to me!”
“I already did. Pack your things and leave. And before you go, post on Instagram that we’re separating amicably.”
She glared. “And if I don’t?”
I held up my phone. “Then these videos go public.”
An hour later, her post appeared. “After much reflection, James and I have decided to part ways amicably. We remain committed to our families’ business interests.”
As the door closed behind her, I breathed freely for the first time in months.
This marriage had cost me my dignity. But it had taught me something priceless—never surrender control of my own life.
