Zara's POV

Life has been so much better ever since I left school. The main reason? I no longer have to see that idiot's face every single day. It feels like a breath of fresh air. Of course, he still pops up now and then, usually in the news or on social media, where everyone seems to rave about his so-called achievements. To be fair, I have to admit he has made quite a name for himself in the fashion industry-becoming a well-known designer and all. But no amount of success can change his attitude. He's still the same arrogant jerk, full of ego and pride. Every time I see his face or hear his name, it's like my blood starts boiling all over again.

But here's the kicker-look who's talking, my subconscious mocks me. I can almost see it smirking at me. "Oh, shut up," I mutter to myself, as if I can somehow silence the thoughts swirling in my head. It's ridiculous how much he gets to me, even when he's not around.

Now, I'm sure you're curious. Who's the person I'm talking about with so much disgust? Well, let me introduce you to the most annoying human being to ever exist-none other than MR. ZAYDEN DRAKON. Yep, that's right. My worst enemy. The one person I hate with every fiber of my being. Just the thought of him makes me want to scream. To put it simply, even if I were on my deathbed, I would rather die than ask him for help. That's the level of hate we're talking about here.

And if you're wondering why I despise him so much, well, to be honest, even I'm not entirely sure. It's not like there's one specific reason-he just has this way of always challenging me, pushing my buttons, and getting on my nerves. Every single time. He knows exactly what to do to rile me up, and for some reason, he seems to enjoy it. Ugh, just thinking about him is exhausting.

But anyway, enough about him for now. I have more pressing matters to deal with today. This morning, my dad called and asked me to come over. He said he had something important to discuss with me, so I'm guessing it's not just a casual visit. And, in case you're wondering, yes, I live alone now. It's peaceful, and I've grown to love having my own space.

So, I got out of bed, went through my usual morning routine, and got ready for the day. I decided to wear a yellow mini dress that hugged my figure and ended just above my thighs. It was simple but cute, perfect for a quick visit to my parents' house. I kept my makeup minimal-just a little bit of foundation, mascara, and a nude lipstick to pull everything together. My hair? I tied it up into a loose bun, nothing too fancy. I wasn't exactly in the mood to dress up more than necessary. After all, I was just going to see my parents.

Once I was ready, I called my driver and headed downstairs. But, of course, the paparazzi were already waiting outside my apartment. Ugh, can't they find something better to do? I mean, I get that it's their job to capture every little move of celebrities, but sometimes it feels like they're always lurking around, waiting to pounce. "This is their life, you know," my subconscious chimed in sarcastically. I ignored it, as usual.

I quickly got into the car, not wanting to give the paps anything to capture, and we headed off. The drive wasn't too long, and soon enough, we arrived at my dad's villa. And, surprise surprise, the paparazzi were there too. Great. I rolled my eyes. Who keeps tipping them off, I wonder? But I couldn't be bothered to dwell on it. I had bigger things on my mind.

I stepped out of the car, ignoring the flashes of cameras and the annoying questions they yelled in my direction, and walked straight into the house. As soon as I entered, I saw my parents sitting together in the living room, waiting for me. My sister was there too, sitting on the couch with a slightly nervous look on her face. Now that was strange. The atmosphere felt... tense. Like they were all in on something that I didn't know about yet.

After exchanging the usual pleasantries and some small talk, I couldn't hold it in any longer. I looked at my dad and asked, "Okay, what's going on? Why did you call me over?"

He smiled at me, but it was one of those smiles that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, sweetheart, can't a father just want to see his daughter without any particular reason?"

"Dad, I know you better than that. This isn't just a normal visit, is it? There's something you want to tell me, isn't there?" I pressed him, my curiosity piqued.

He hesitated for a moment, glancing over at my mom, and then back at me. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. "Well, we've received a marriage proposal for you."

I blinked, trying to process what he had just said. A marriage proposal? That's what this was all about? "Okay... who's the person?" I asked, trying to stay calm.

And then he said it. The words that made me feel like the ground had just been pulled out from under me.

"The person is... Zayden."

I felt my heart skip a beat. No. Way. There was absolutely no way this could be happening. "You're kidding, right?" I managed to choke out, barely able to believe what I was hearing.

But the look on my dad's face told me he wasn't joking. This was real. What the actual hell?

I stared at my dad in disbelief, feeling my chest tighten. This had to be some kind of sick joke. There was no way my parents, of all people, would think that marrying me off to Zayden Drakon was a good idea. My head started spinning, and I could feel the frustration bubbling up inside me.

"You're serious?" I finally managed to ask, my voice shaky. "Zayden Drakon? The Zayden I've hated since forever? The same Zayden who made my life a living hell in school? You want me to marry him?"

My dad sighed, clearly sensing my growing irritation. "Sweetheart, I know it's unexpected. But hear me out. His family approached us, and it's a very good match. His success, his background-"

I cut him off before he could finish. "I don't care about his success or his background! We're talking about Zayden! The guy who used to mock me in school, the one who-" I stopped, feeling my emotions getting the better of me. Memories of our petty fights and endless competition flooded my mind. He was the last person I would ever want to spend the rest of my life with.

"I understand you're upset," my mom chimed in, her voice soft, as if trying to soothe the situation. "But people change, honey. You've both grown up. He's not the same boy you remember from school."

"Oh, he hasn't changed," I muttered under my breath, remembering the way he carried himself now-still arrogant, still cocky, always thinking he's better than everyone else. Sure, he had grown into a more successful version of himself, but his attitude? That hadn't changed one bit.

"And besides," my dad continued, "this isn't just about the past. His family is offering a good proposal, and it could strengthen our ties with them in a very positive way."

"Positive for whom, exactly?" I shot back, frustration leaking into my voice. "Because it certainly doesn't feel positive for me. You're asking me to marry someone I can't even stand. How is that supposed to work?"

There was silence for a moment, the weight of my words hanging in the air. My parents exchanged another glance, and my sister, who had been quietly watching the whole thing, finally spoke up.

"Zara, I know this is overwhelming, but maybe... maybe you should at least talk to him? See if things have changed between you two. It's been years since school. Who knows? Maybe you'll feel differently once you meet him again."

I whipped my head toward her, surprised. "Are you seriously suggesting I go along with this? You know how I feel about him."

She shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. "I'm just saying, maybe it wouldn't hurt to at least give it a chance? You've both grown up, and people can surprise you."

I shook my head, still unable to believe what was happening. "I don't need surprises from him, trust me."

But before I could protest any further, my dad spoke again, his voice firmer this time. "Zara, I'm not forcing you into anything. But at least consider meeting with him. Have a conversation. You don't have to make any decisions right now, but at least keep an open mind."

I leaned back in my seat, feeling cornered. My mind raced with a thousand thoughts, each one more chaotic than the last. Meet with Zayden? Sit across from him and have a conversation like we're old friends? The very idea made me want to laugh, but there was nothing funny about this situation.

My dad's voice softened once more. "We only want what's best for you, Zara. Just think about it."

I stared at him, still feeling that overwhelming sense of disbelief. This couldn't be real. Out of all the people in the world, they wanted me to marry him. Zayden Drakon. My lifelong enemy. My rival. The person I couldn't stand being in the same room with.

But as much as I wanted to fight it, part of me knew that my parents wouldn't drop this easily. They were right about one thing-it was a good match in every other sense. Zayden had the money, the success, the connections. It was the kind of proposal that families dream about. Except for the fact that it was him.

I sighed heavily, feeling trapped. "Fine," I muttered, crossing my arms. "I'll meet him. But I'm not promising anything."

A look of relief washed over my parents' faces, and my sister smiled softly at me, as if to say thank you for trying. But deep down, I knew this wasn't going to be as simple as a quick meeting. There was a history between Zayden and me that couldn't just be swept under the rug.

And now, I had to face him again.

As I left my parents' house, my thoughts swirled with anxiety and disbelief about meeting Zayden again after all these years. This wasn't just a casual encounter; it was an arranged marriage proposal. The memory of our rivalry flooded back-the endless bickering and his smug smile. How could I possibly act normal with him now?

Sliding into the backseat of the car, I let out a frustrated sigh. Would he treat this proposal like a business deal, cold and calculated? I rolled my eyes at the thought. Sure, he'd become a successful fashion designer, but I doubted anything had changed beneath his stylish exterior.

Arriving at my apartment, I collapsed onto the couch, overwhelmed. My best friend texted, eager to hear about my meeting with my parents. I decided to keep the proposal under wraps for now. Staring out at the city skyline, I found little comfort in the view today.

Then, another message from my dad informed me of a dinner arrangement with Zayden tomorrow. My stomach dropped; there was no turning back now. How could I sit across from him and act like everything was normal after years of animosity?

Yet, a part of me was curious-had he really changed? Tomorrow, I would find out. With a heavy sigh, I headed to my bedroom, mentally bracing myself for the disaster that was about to unfold. But one question lingered in my mind: What if things went wrong? Because with Zayden, they always did.

The next evening, I walked into the restaurant, spotting Zayden already seated, looking every bit as smug as I remembered. He glanced up, gave me that same cocky smile, and stood up to greet me.

Zayden leaned back in his chair with that all-too-familiar smug grin as I sat down. His perfectly styled hair and that annoyingly confident smirk were just as irritating as ever.

"Zara," he said, nodding slightly, "I see you've managed to drag yourself here. What, did you lose a bet?"

I rolled my eyes, barely keeping my irritation in check. "Trust me, if I knew it was you I'd be meeting, I would've stayed home. But my parents seemed to think this was important."

He chuckled. "Oh, it's important all right. Can't believe they thought we of all people should get married. That's hilarious."

I crossed my arms, already done with this conversation. "Hilarious isn't the word I'd use. More like insane. There's no way this is happening."

Zayden leaned in, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, I agree. Marrying you? I'd rather spend a week locked in a room with a dozen crying babies."

"Wow, Zayden," I shot back, "you really know how to make a girl feel special."

He smirked. "I aim to please. But seriously, us? Married? It's like mixing oil and water."

"More like a match and gasoline," I corrected. "This marriage would end in flames."

He laughed. "Exactly. Can you imagine us trying to live together without killing each other?"

"Living with you? I'd have to start hiding knives around the house," I said, half-serious.

"And I'd have to sleep with one eye open," he replied, grinning.

"Good plan. Not that you'll have to worry. This is never going to happen." I leaned back, feeling a small sense of victory.

He shrugged. "Hey, we're on the same page for once. I'm not interested in being your husband.You'd probably poison my morning coffee."

I narrowed my eyes. "With a smile on my face."

He held up his hands. "See? We can't even have a conversation without it turning into a threat. Imagine us as a married couple."

I sighed. "Let's just tell our parents this is a disaster waiting to happen."

Zayden nodded, smirking again. "For once, Zara, I think we actually agree on something. A first, really."

"Miracles do happen," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair, clearly satisfied with the way the conversation went. "You know, as much as I hate the idea of us getting married, I'll admit one thing."

I raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

"You do make things interesting. It's kind of refreshing to have someone who actually talks back to me."

I smirked. "Oh, I'm not done talking back yet, Drakon. But for now, let's just agree on one thing-we are never, ever getting married."

He raised his glass in mock toast. "To never being stuck with you."

I raised mine too. "To never."

After our dinner at the restaurant, Zayden and I were both relieved to have firmly shut down the idea of our parents' ridiculous marriage proposal. However, little did we know, our parents had other plans in motion.

A few days later, I found myself pacing in my living room, anxiety swirling in my stomach. I grabbed my phone to text Zayden. "Can you believe our parents are still pushing this marriage thing?"

The moment I hit send, my dad walked into the room, his expression unusually serious. "Zara, we need to talk."

I felt a rush of dread. "About what? The wedding proposal? Because I think Zayden and I are both on the same page about that."

He frowned, the lines on his forehead deepening. "Your mother and I believe you two could complement each other well. Zayden is a successful designer, and you both share a rich history. You can make this work."

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean I can make this work? Dad, no offense, but you have no idea how annoying he is. He drives me up the wall!"

Just then, my mom poked her head out from the kitchen. "Honey, think of it as a new adventure! You both have strong personalities, and this could be a great opportunity for growth."

"Growth?" I laughed bitterly. "More like mutual destruction! You should've seen our dinner. We could barely keep our conversation civil."

I could still hear Zayden's voice echoing in my mind: "You'd probably poison my morning coffee."

My dad stepped closer, his tone earnest. "Zara, we just want what's best for you. This marriage could lead to a powerful partnership, both in business and in life. You'll be supporting each other, and who knows what might come from that?"

I bit my lip, contemplating their words. "But we can't even stand each other! We're like fire and gasoline."

Mom stepped forward, her eyes pleading. "You can work on that! Relationships take time and effort. This could bring you both a new perspective on life."

I sighed heavily, rubbing my temples in frustration. Just then, my phone buzzed again. It was Zayden: "My parents are relentless. They think we'd be great together. Help!"

I chuckled at his frustration, finding it oddly comforting to know I wasn't alone in this mess.

"See?" my dad pressed, pointing to my phone. "Even Zayden feels the pressure. You two are meant to be together. Just give it a chance."

I felt cornered, caught between my parents' expectations and my growing irritation with the situation. "Fine! But if we get married, I'm not taking his last name. He can deal with that."

My parents exchanged a relieved glance, and I could almost see the gears turning in their minds. They were convinced they'd won this round, and maybe they had.

After a long, tense conversation with our parents, Zayden and I finally caved in. The pressure was too much to bear. Our families were convinced we belonged together, and while the thought made my stomach turn, I couldn't fight it any longer.

A few days later, Zayden and I met at a quiet café, both of us determined to hash things out. As I walked in, I spotted him sitting at a table, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as I approached, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement.

"Ah, the lovely bride graces me with her presence," he said, smirking.

"Don't get used to it," I shot back, taking a seat across from him. "Let's get this over with."

Zayden leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "So, we're actually going through with this? Our parents will be thrilled."

I rolled my eyes. "Thrilled isn't the word I'd use. But we both know this is just for show. We have to stick to the plan."

"Right," he agreed, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "What's the plan again? World domination through marriage?"

I couldn't help but laugh despite myself. "More like 'faking a happy marriage' for our families and then getting out of this as soon as we can. I was thinking we could sign something, you know, to make it official."

"An agreement?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are we going to draw up a contract for this?"

"Why not? We should lay out the terms," I replied. "Let's agree to a one-year marriage. After that, we'll go our separate ways. Deal?"

Zayden leaned in, intrigued. "So, what's the catch? We pretend to be the perfect couple for a year, and then we bail? Sounds easy enough."

I nodded, feeling a surge of determination. "Exactly. We keep the peace at family gatherings and put on a show. No feelings, no drama-just a year of pretending."

He extended his hand across the table, a playful glint in his eye. "Deal. But I get to be the one to tell everyone that you're the one who insisted on this arrangement."

"Fine, but if anyone asks, you're the one who proposed!" I shot back, shaking his hand firmly.

We both laughed, the tension easing as we realized we were on the same page. After we sealed the deal, Zayden pulled out his phone to draft a simple agreement.

AGREEMENT TO MARRY FOR ONE YEAR

We, Zara Ashford and Zayden Drakon, agree to the following terms:

1. Duration of Marriage: Our marriage will last for one year from the date of signing.

2. Living Arrangements: We will live together as a married couple but maintain separate lives and social circles.

3. Public Appearance: We will present ourselves as a happy couple in front of family and friends.

4. Divorce: At the end of one year, we will amicably divorce without any obligations or entanglements.

Zayden read through the agreement, smirking at the absurdity of it all. "I can't believe we're doing this. It's like a bad rom-com."

"Exactly! Just think of it as our own reality show," I replied, shaking my head. "Let's just hope we can keep our sanity intact."

With a final flourish, Zayden signed the document, and I followed suit. We both leaned back in our chairs, a sense of accomplishment washing over us.

"Cheers to our fake marriage," he said, raising an imaginary glass.

"Cheers," I replied, rolling my eyes but unable to suppress a smile.

And so, we embarked on this bizarre journey together, bound by an agreement that promised a year of pretended bliss before we would go our separate ways. Little did we know,life had a way of throwing unexpected curveballs our way.

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Okay so this is it for today.

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