Heart of fortune

Chapter One: A Deal with Fate

Mirable Walt loved her simple life on the farm. Every morning, she woke up to the sound of roosters crowing and the smell of fresh hay. She spent her days feeding chickens, planting vegetables, and helping her father fix old machines. The farm wasn’t fancy, but it was hers. It was peaceful, familiar, and full of love.

Her father, Gregory Walt, had worked the land his whole life. He was proud of the farm and everything it stood for. But times had been hard lately. The crops weren’t selling well, and debts had started to pile up. Mirable noticed her father’s tired eyes and how his hands shook after a long day. Still, he never complained.

One sunny morning, Mirable took a rare break and joined some friends for a game of golf. She wasn’t great at it, but the laughter and open air made her feel free for a little while. Then she noticed something strange. People on the course were whispering, staring at their phones, their faces tight with worry.

Her phone buzzed. It was a call from a neighbor.

“Mirable, you need to come home. There’s been a fire.”

Her heart stopped.

She dropped her golf club, jumped into her car, and drove faster than she ever had. She didn’t care about the speed limit. All that mattered was getting home.

When she reached the farm, smoke still hung in the air. The barn was gone. The cornfields were black. Everything they had worked for—burned to ashes.

She ran into the house and found her father sitting silently at the kitchen table. His hands were clenched, his face pale.

“We’ve lost everything,” he said quietly. “The insurance won’t cover all of it. And we still owe the Mendy family.”

Mirable knew the name. The Mendy family was rich, powerful, and strict. A year ago, her father had taken a big loan from them, hoping to expand the farm. The money helped them get through tough times—but now, with the fire, there was no way to pay it back.

Her father took a deep breath and looked at her with tired eyes. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he said. “ Mr. Mendy—the father called after the incident and I made a deal".

Mirable blinked. “What kind of deal?”

“If I couldn’t pay back the debt,” he said slowly, “our families would be joined through marriage. You would marry one of the Mendy sons.”

She stared at him. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was,” he said. “here is the contract. The lawyer's just left. James Mendy expects you at the estate tomorrow.”

James Mendy. She had heard of him. He was the oldest son, the heir to the family fortune. He was always in the news—tall, rich, serious, and never smiling. People said he ran the family empire like a machine. Cold and efficient.

“I don’t even know him,” she said, voice shaking.

“I know,” her father said, tears in his eyes. “But this is the only way to save the farm. If you marry him, they’ll cancel the debt.”

That night, Mirable sat on her bed, staring out the window. The stars looked the same, but her world had changed completely. She didn’t want to marry for money. She wanted love, laughter, someone who cared about the little things. But that dream was slipping away.

The next morning, a black car pulled up in front of the house. A driver stepped out in a suit, holding the door open.

Mirable packed a small bag—just a few clothes, a photo of her and her dad, and her old journal. She hugged her father tightly. He whispered, “I’m sorry,” and kissed her forehead.

She climbed into the car, holding back tears. As they drove away, she looked back at the farmhouse, getting smaller in the distance.

The Mendy estate was huge. Tall iron gates opened slowly as the car rolled through. The mansion looked like something from a movie—white columns, polished stone, and perfect gardens.

James Mendy was waiting at the front steps.

He was even taller than she expected. Dressed in a sharp gray suit, he looked like he belonged on a magazine cover. His face was calm, unreadable.

“Welcome, Mirable,” he said, holding out his hand. His voice was deep and smooth. “Thank you for agreeing to this arrangement.”

Arrangement. That was all it was to him.

She shook his hand. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Inside, the house was quiet and cold. Gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Expensive paintings lined the walls. But it felt more like a museum than a home.

James walked beside her, explaining things like a business deal. “We’ll have a quiet wedding. No media. No guests, unless you want your father here. After that, we’ll live here until the contract is complete. One year.”

Mirable stopped walking. “One year?”

He nodded. “That was part of the agreement your father signed. A one-year marriage. After that, we can part ways.”

She stared at him. “So this is just pretend?”

“It’s real on paper. That’s all that matters—for the debt to be cleared.”

Mirable felt like she couldn’t breathe. She was stepping into a life that wasn’t hers, with a man she didn’t know, all to save her home.

But she had no choice.

“I want to keep my name,” she said firmly.

James looked at her. “Fine. Whatever makes this easier.”

She went to her room—a large, fancy guest room with a balcony. She dropped her bag on the bed and sat down, staring at the walls.

So this was it.

A contract marriage.

No love. No dreams. Just duty.

But deep inside, she promised herself one thing: no matter how fake this marriage felt, she wouldn’t let it break her spirit.

She would survive this.

For her father. For the farm.

Even if her heart had to wait a little longer for real love.