My Wickedly Charming Professor: Married On Paper, Obsessed In Class

Three years had passed since I became Liz Andrade Navarro, a wife in name more than anything else. The man I married was still a stranger to me.

Looking back, the situation was absurd. At 21, I had entered a marriage without knowing the person beside me, but fairness had never been part of my life. When I was 16, my parents died in a plane crash and left me completely alone. In the aftermath, I learned that my father had prepared a will meant to secure my future if anything happened to them.

The arrangement took effect the moment I turned 18. I was required to marry my legal guardian.

Nothing could have prepared me for the conditions attached to that decision. One clause stated that I had to remain married until I reached the age of 25. Another demanded that I earn a law degree so I could work as a lawyer and eventually inherit my family's companies, all of which operated within the legal field. Only after meeting every requirement would I gain control over my assets and my life, including the right to file for divorce.

Fate intervened again not long after. My guardian died from a heart attack at only 32. With his death came another forced change. I was required to marry someone else.

This time, the man chosen for me was the uncle of my former guardian. He was another stranger, though younger than I expected at 27.

The irony was not lost on me. His nephew was older than him, and the whole thing felt unreal.

On the day of the wedding, I never even saw him. The paperwork arrived through Bruno, the lawyer my father had trusted to oversee everything. I signed the documents that declared me legally married to Henry McNight, and that was the extent of it. There was no ceremony. There was no dress. No guests witnessed it.

Soon after, another shift followed. I moved into Henry's mansion. Sharing a home with someone I had never met unsettled me at first, yet I learned to accept what had been decided for me. The house itself was anything but simple. It stretched across two floors and included a garage large enough for three cars.

Three years had gone by since then. Despite the fear I once carried, I had never actually shared the space with my husband. The only constant presence in the house was the housekeeper.

Sandra was in her fifties and carried herself with quiet devotion. She treated me like her own daughter, and over time, she became the closest thing to family I had left.

Breakfast was already on the table when clarity finally settled in.

"Sandra, could you call Bruno and ask him to come by?"

"Of course, Liz. May I ask why?" she asked, peering at me over her glasses.

"I want a divorce," I said after a pause. Being tied to a man I had never truly known had become unbearable. A tired