Chapter 1

Miranda was very bitter.

It came as a shock to her because she thought she could never feel this way. She had endured a lot. A whole lot. She had been patient, quietly hoping for a better future. But as she sat in front of her mother and father, listening to their plans to marry her off, the anger, pain, disappointment, and disgust she felt all blended and fused together to form one massive ball of bitterness.

Her mother leaned forward and rested her arms on the dining room table. "So, you see, Miranda, we have no choice. This will be the best thing for the family. Forget about the age difference. Focus on the money and the future."

Miranda watched as the filthy words poured from her mother's mouth and suddenly realized how much she hated the woman. This was her mother—the woman who gave birth to her—and she was willing to sell her daughter to make up for the bad decisions she made in the business and her addiction to shopping.

Forget the age difference. Twenty years. Is that something I can forget so easily? Focus on the money? The money is for you, not me.

"Yes, focus on the future. It won't be only us benefitting. You will benefit too. You will live a life of luxury. He is a millionaire," her father added, stroking his beard and looking very evil.

Miranda turned to the other culprit. Her father. A gambling addict and a drug user. He had squandered the family and his personal funds and was now desperate to get out of debt. Yes, even marrying his own daughter to a man as old as he was.

This was the family she was born to. A family where she was unwanted. A family where she was shunned. And it hurt.

But the worst part was that when it came to being treated in this manner, she was alone. If her parents treated all their children in the same manner, it would have lessened the pain and the humiliation she felt. Her two little sisters were treated like the stars of the universe, while she was the scum of the earth.

She knew she deserved more, but this was her life, her sad reality.

"I won't…I won't do it." Voice shaking, Miranda raised an objection. This was one of the few times in her 24 years of living that she had ever done such a thing. It couldn't be helped. She was timid, preferring compliance over defiance. But this…this was too big a change not to object.

"I can't do it. I just can't." As she continued expressing her refusal, tears began to flow unwillingly from her eyes. She was in intense pain. It was too much for her to handle.

Her parents looked at each other and back at her, pity nowhere to be found on their faces. As one, threats and insults poured from their mouths.

"Miranda. If you don't marry him, you'll have to find a new place to stay. Do you think I'm going to house an ingrate, a lousy, hideous fool like you? You will leave this house! You will leave and never come back. If you come back here, I'll kill you. I'll kill you." Her father's voice had reached a crescendo. He slammed his hands on the table, eyes bulging from their sockets. This was a man desperate and afraid. The thoughts of his debts immersed him in fear so great, he was willing to kill his own daughter.

"Yes, you will have to leave. We won't accept you here. As your parents, we have cared for you, fed you, clothed you, and housed you. Is this how you'll repay us? By refusing to help us? Count yourself lucky that such a distinguished gentleman wants an ugly person like you. You will go there and behave yourself. However, and whichever way he wants to touch you, you must allow him. It's the least you can do."

Tears filled Miranda's face. Her parents' words were too hurtful, each one causing more pain than the last. She didn't know what to do. She wished she could stand up and walk out. Turn her back on everything and everyone.

It would feel good. But the truth was that it wouldn't last. As a fresh graduate, she had yet to find her feet. She was unemployed, living with her parents, and currently working at a coffee shop. That was her only source of income and the only way she managed to get herself to job interviews. It was not enough to support her if she decided to move out.

No relatives were willing to take her in. Despite her family's condition, they were still better off than their extended family.

So, she stayed. With her hands on her knees and head bowed, crying, broken, and scarred, she stayed.

"I…I…I will go." Miranda sucked in a breath, trying to stop her tears. "I will go."

"Then stop crying like a cow. Your puffy eyes will become even more swollen," came her mother's sharp voice.

Miranda wiped her eyes and lifted her head. She stared at her parents on the other side of the table, certain she could not hate anybody more than she hated them. But she would go and marry a man over twenty years her senior. She would sell her body to a man to get even the slightest bit of freedom from this toxic environment.

"The appointment is tomorrow. He said he didn't want you to dress formally but don't dare dress too casually. Make sure I see you before you leave. I don't know what he sees in you, but I don't want him to change his mind tomorrow. Do you understand?" Her mother slammed a fist into the table.

Miranda sniffed and nodded. "I understand."

"Good. Now get out of here."

She stood up with another nod and sniff, bowed to her parents, and left the room. Exiting into the living room, she was met with the snarky gazes of her two sisters. They had obviously heard the conversation along with their parents' outburst. Pleased with themselves, they were about to add salt to her injury, but Miranda had had enough for one day. She turned sharply and took the stairs to her room two at a time.

She locked the bedroom door behind her, slid against the wood, and dropped on the floor. The tears she thought she had restrained came back with full force. She clamped her hand on her mouth, trying not to let sounds escape as the sobs wracked her body.

What was her life turning to?