Thersia Irish stood before the ornate mirror in her father's office, her heart thumping and racing with every tick of the clock. She adjusted her fitted silver gown, the one her stepmother, Vivienne, specifically chose for her.

She knew the purpose of being here, but she still wondered when Vivienne ever decided to buy her a dress. She knew Vivienne loathed her and it's not like she had much love for her stepmother.

The dress shimmered in the dim light, a constant reminder of the deal her father made. She felt suffocated, extremely suffocated. She couldn't stand being in the same room with the people who were supposed to be her family.

"Thersia, come here, dear," Vivienne called, her voice dripping with sweetness, like honeycomb laced with poison.

Thersia hated her voice so much. She remembered how Vivienne's voice scared her so much when she was younger. She always made sure to lock herself in her room once she heard her voice.

She still hated it now, but she was older. And she had zero cares in the world about Vivienne or her dad, not forgetting her step sister.

Thersia's stomach twisted as she turned to face her father and stepmother. She glanced at them and noticed how her father Philip Irish, a man once revered by her,was her idol until he got married to Vivienne.

He was once a pillar of strength and wisdom, but he now seemed like a different person altogether.

Then he became a clone. She could barely recognise him. Physically? She could. Did she just call her dad a zombie? She chuckled drily to herself and she enjoyed her own joke.

Vivienne on the other hand, radiated an aura of triumph, her piercing green eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Her raven black hair was pulled back. She wondered which hairstylist always advised her to go with this style.

"Thersia, you know why we're here tonight," Philip began, barely meeting her eyes. Guilt was eating him up and he couldn't bear to look at his older daughter.

"To sign my life away,"Thersia finished, her voice barely above a whisper, a whisper that seemed to carry the weight of her fate.

Vivienne's expression became twisted and her face contorted in a scowl, Thersia smirked. She wondered what was going through her stepmother's mind. How could a person be this heartless?

Vivienne's expression turned cold, the room became extremely quiet, too quiet that you could hear a pin drop. "Don't be dramatic, Thersia. This is a business arrangement, not some sort of slavery contract"

Thersia's gaze drifted back to the man standing by the window, his stiff back to her. She wondered why you were standing so rigid, was his back in pain.

At some point, she really forgot that her soon to be husband was actually in this room, with her and her weird family. He stood there like he cared less, like he was just a passerby and not the main person.

Luka Thompson, the Ice King and her soon to be husband. He was a legend in the business world. He was ruthless, cunning, and feared by all.

She had heard whispers of his dealings, how he crushed his opponents without mercy, till they were practically begging for their own life. He crushed his opponents with zero mercy and that was her husband to be.

She wondered if she committed a sacrilege in her past life, and marrying the Ice King was her present punishment.

She debated running out and eloping, hiding herself away from everything till her name eventually gets wiped out from this night. Probably elope too and get married to a normal man that doesn't behave like a rock.

"Thersia, sign the contract," Vivienne urged, her voice bringing her back from dreamland. She heard the change in her tone and smirked, her voice was laced with a hint of malice, like a green snake slithering through the grass.

She took deep breaths and tried to regulate her heart beat and her shaky palm, but it didn't help in any way.

She was going to be sold no matter how long she tried to postpone it.

Her hand trembled as she reached for the pen. She knew this moment would change her life. Taking the deepest breath to steady her emotions, she signed her name, the scratching sound echoing through the room like a death sentence.

Was she overreacting or was she hallucinating? She had to be, because it felt like the ink was bleeding onto the page. Why did she have to be unlucky? Of every man in the world, she just had to be thrown to Luka Thompson... Luka Thompson.

She felt like she was selling her soul to him. She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes and saw that his back was still turned. Was he even part of this damn contract marriage? Or was he just a spectator?

She was still staring at him when he turned abruptly, she immediately averted her eyes, but not before they had a tiny eye contact.

Hatred, mistrust, boredom, she saw all these on his face. She's always been a good emotion reader, so it wasn't difficult to deduce his emotions.

He turned and locked his piercing blue eyes onto hers. For a moment, Thersia felt like he was baring her soul and reading every one of her thoughts, like he could see the depth of her soul.

His emotion switched immediately. From boredom to something else, his expression is unreadable, like a mask carved out from ice.

He probably noticed that she could read him like a book.

Luka glanced at her from the corner or his eyes. He noticed how she kept fidgeting with her silver gown. Wasn't she comfortable with it?

"You're officially a Thompson, Thersia," he said, his voice low and smooth. He had a husky voice and if she compared it to a drink, it would be rich whiskey. He smelt like old and new money too.

"You can stop staring and get moving now Miss Thersia" he added, his voice sending shivers down her spine, like a winter breeze on a cold night.

As they left the office, Thersia couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead. She wondered if she just came out from the dungeon to dive head first into hell with this man.

Would she ever be free of this contract or would she just become another pawn in Luka's game of power and control?

She knew he was a control freak and unfortunately, she will be the first lady to marry him...not like he had a shortage of admirers.

Thersia focused her gaze on the city light, anywhere but at him. The lights blurred together as they drove through the night, like a kaleidoscope of uncertainty.

The silence in the car was so oppressive ,a heavy fog that clung to Thersia's skin like a damp shroud. It was suffocating in here and she felt it pressing down on her chest.

The stillness pressed down upon her chest,making her heart race with anxiety. Her palms were extremely sweaty and she hated that she was a nervous wreck.

Different thoughts and plans of escape were running through her mind. She even thought of jumping the window and running away, but the thought of jumping out of a moving car wasn't worth it.

She was finally trapped, right where her step mother had always wanted. She has become a prisoner of her father's desperation and Vivienne's cunning motives.

As they arrived at the Thompson Estate, Thersia's heart sank as it finally dawned on her that she was married to Luka.

His mansion loomed before her. She felt like she was walking into a nightmare zone from which she never awakened..