Nini

The grand mansion felt eerily quiet as you waited in the drawing room. This was to be your new home with Jennie, the woman your influential father had arranged for you to marry. You'd harbored a secret crush on her for years, admiring her from afar in college, and pleading for this union, hoping that love might one day blossom.

Now, seated amidst the opulent furnishings, doubt began to creep in. The wedding ceremony had been a whirlwind of forced smiles and cold courtesies. Jennie had stood beside you like a beautiful, unfeeling statue.

The sound of a car door slamming shut outside startled you. A few moments later, Jennie walked in, not in a wedding dress, but in her casual clothes. She dropped her keys on a glass table with a clatter that echoed in the silence.

Her eyes, cold and distant, finally rested on you. She didn't come closer. "I've spoken with my lawyers," Jennie began, her voice lacking any warmth. "The prenuptial agreement is ironclad, a merger of families, not hearts. So let's establish some ground rules."

He gestured vaguely toward the second floor. "This house has two master suites. I've already moved my things into the one in the west wing. The other one is yours. We'll live our own lives. We won't share a room, a bed, or anything that implies this is a real marriage."

Her gaze hardened. "You got what you wanted. You're my wife on paper. But don't expect anything more from me. To me, you're a stranger."