His Forbidden Bride

Seraphina's POV

My father didn't ask me if I wanted to marry Lucian Vale. He told me.

"He's agreed," he said, tapping his fingers against a folder on the glass table like it was any ordinary business meeting. "Lucian Vale is willing to marry Seraphina. We have a chance to save everything."

For a moment, I thought I didn't hear clearly what he said. But then the name hit me like a stone dropping into deep water.

Lucian Vale.

The sound of it pulled me under.

"I've spoken to his father," my father continued matter-of-factly. "They'll drop the acquisition and settle the case out of court if we follow through. This marriage ends it cleanly. No lawsuits. No bankruptcy."

My mother sat beside him, legs crossed neatly, posture portraying the picture of elegance. She didn't even look at me. Not for once. Her face was painted in control, her silence complicit.

It wasn't a discussion. It wasn't even a choice. It was a sentence.

And I was the sacrifice.

"You told me we'd find another way," I whispered, my voice catching before I forced it sharper. "You said the lawyers would handle it."

My father glanced at me this time, as if he had just remembered I was with them in the room. His eyes were flat. Businesslike. "We tried. This is the only option that doesn't leave our name smeared across headlines with our accounts frozen."

My hands clenched into fists in my lap. "So I'm the deal now?"

"You're the solution," he said without blinking. "Lucian gets a wife from a reputable family. We keep Cole Global. Everyone wins."

Everyone but me.

I looked between the two people who were supposed to protect me, realizing they weren't negotiating-they were waiting. Waiting for me to obey.

"I'm not a bargaining chip," I said, voice breaking but steady enough. "I'm your only daughter."

"You're also a Cole," my father replied evenly, like that ended the matter.

My throat tightened. "And what about what I want? What about Clinton?"

At his name, my mother's lips pressed together, the faintest crack in her perfect mask. "Clinton is irrelevant."

I blinked. "You liked him. You said he was good for me."

Her voice came cold, deliberate. "He was good for who you used to be. But this is about who you are now. About your future. About survival."

"So love doesn't matter anymore? My life is just...a business merger?"

"You'll grow to understand," my father said, almost bored. "Love is a luxury. People in our position don't always get it."

There it was. The truth. Cold. Final.

I gently rose from the chair where I was sitting like a shadow, my legs were shaking, but it carried me to my room. The door slammed behind me, and I leaned my back to it, shutting out their voices, but not the reality.

Lucian Vale.

The billionaire with mafia bloodlines, whose name alone made businessmen flinch. The man who never smiled, who had built an