Forced To Marry My Cousin's Fiancé

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Lane hugged herself tightly, burying her face into her arms as humiliation burned through every single inch of her body.

In that quiet corridor, she suddenly understood with absolute, crushing clarity that her life had changed overnight.

Everyone would know. Friends, business partners, their elite social circles, and countless strangers—the entire country would reduce her entire existence down to a single, sordid scandal.

Richard’s expression softened slightly as he looked at his daughter, the anger leaving his frame to reveal a heavy exhaustion. "Lane."

She couldn’t even bring herself to meet his eyes. "I’m sorry," she whispered, the apology sounding fragile and pathetic in the empty hallway.

Richard crossed the space between them slowly, his expensive shoes clicking softly against the marble before he placed a hand gently on her trembling shoulder. "You are my daughter before anything else, Lane. Don’t ever think you have lost your family because of this."

Hearing those words, Lane nearly broke down all over again. The suffocating guilt only worsened because they were still choosing to love her despite the wreckage she had caused.

A sudden, sharp knock sounded from the heavy front doors downstairs, followed by a murmur of tense voices echoing up the foyer.

Eleanor looked toward the staircase, her posture instantly stiffening into a practiced demeanor. "That must be them."

Lane immediately froze, her muscles locking as panic spread like wildfire through her chest.

Them. Ethan’s family. The Blackwoods. "I can’t face them," she gasped, her breathing turning shallow. "Mom, please, I can’t go down there."

"Yes, you can," Eleanor said softly, though her voice carried a firm, unyielding edge.

"And you won’t face them alone."

A few minutes later, Lane found herself sitting stiffly on the edge of a plush sofa in the main living room, while a relentless anxiety clawed at her stomach.

The massive mansion, which had always felt grand, suddenly seemed too large, too bright, and far too suffocating.

Then, the double doors swung open.

Victor Blackwood entered first, tall and intimidating in a dark gray tailored suit, followed closely by Catherine Blackwood, whose elegant appearance remained perfectly composed despite the volatile circumstances. Ethan walked behind them silently, moving like a shadow in his parents’ wake.

The moment Lane saw him, her breath caught in her throat. He looked utterly exhausted. His silk tie hung slightly loose around his collar, and dark shadows were heavily visible beneath his eyes, yet his sharp features remained as unreadable as always—cold, distant, and locked away.

Catherine noticed Lane first. To Lane’s absolute surprise, the older woman bypassed Richard and Eleanor entirely, walking directly toward her without a moment of hesitation. She sank onto the cushion beside Lane and gently, firmly took her shaking hands. "How are you feeling, dear?"

Lane blinked in sheer confusion, her voice trembling slightly. "I... I’m okay."

Catherine’s gaze softened knowingly, as though she could already tell it was a desperate lie. "You should be resting . You’re white as a sheet."

Lane had braced herself for an onslaught of anger, disgust, or cold disappointment. Instead, Catherine only looked deeply worried.

Victor cleared his throat heavily, the booming sound drawing everyone’s immediate attention and cutting through the fragile moment.

"We need to discuss this situation carefully before the fallout worsens."

Ethan remained near the floor-to-ceiling windows, standing silently apart from the group, deliberately avoiding looking directly at Lane.

Richard nodded slowly, crossing his arms. "The media is already tearing both our families apart online. The stock prices are starting to fluctuate."

"And Olivia is completely missing," Eleanor added anxiously, wringing her hands.

"We’ve sent people to her apartment, but it’s empty."

Catherine sighed quietly, still holding Lane’s cold fingers. "I tried calling her myself before we drove over. Still no answer."

A heavy, oppressive silence filled the room briefly as the reality of their predicament settled over them. Then, Victor finally spoke the words that everyone in the room already knew were coming.

"There is only one solution that can stabilize this situation and salvage our reputations."

Lane’s stomach tightened instantly into a painful knot, and across the room, Ethan’s jaw visibly hardened. Victor looked directly at both of them, his eyes commanding and absolute.

"You two need to get married."

The room plunged into silence once more. Lane felt her heartbeat stutter painfully against her ribs. Even though a cynical part of her had expected this outcome, hearing the decree spoken aloud made the nightmare terrifyingly real. Marriage.

To Ethan Blackwood. Not because he loved her, not because he wanted her, but only because she carried his child.

Instinctively, Lane’s eyes drifted toward Ethan, searching his face for any sign of humanity. His expression remained entirely emotionless, a blank mask that somehow hurt far more than outright anger would have.

Catherine spoke up, her voice careful and reasoning. "A swift marriage would protect the child from public scrutiny and calm the media down eventually. We can frame it as a whirlwind romance."

Richard nodded reluctantly, staring at the floor. "People are already demanding accountability. The board of directors is panicking."

Lane suddenly felt utterly trapped, the walls of the room closing in on her. Her fingers tightened together in her lap as panic slowly rose into her throat.

This wasn’t how she had ever imagined her marriage happening. She had dreamed of a man looking at her with devotion, not a marriage forced by scandal, corporate obligation, and cold resentment—not with a man who could barely tolerate looking in her direction.

Finally, Ethan spoke for the first time since arriving, his voice cutting through the room like shattered glass.

"This changes nothing."

Lane’s chest tightened instantly.

Victor frowned, his brow furrowing deeply at his son.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Ethan’s expression remained entirely deadpan.

"A marriage solves the public relations problem, Father. Nothing else."

The words sliced through Lane quietly, drawing blood from a wound no one else could see. Nothing else. Not love. Not affection. Not even basic human warmth. Only cold, contractual responsibility.

Catherine looked deeply disappointed by his tone, her brow tightening. "Ethan, watch your mouth."

"What?" he said flatly, stepping out of the shadows of the window. "Are we supposed to pretend this is something it isn’t? Are we supposed to play house?"

Lane lowered her gaze quickly, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over her. Eleanor noticed the sudden slump in her daughter’s shoulders and shot a protective, furious frown at Ethan.

Victor’s expression darkened into dangerous territory. "Regardless of your personal feelings, Ethan, Lane is carrying your child. A Blackwood heir."

"And I said I’ll take responsibility," Ethan countered, his voice clipping the edge of his patience.

Lane finally looked up at him then, her vision swimming. His face remained unreadable, but there was a deep, simmering frustration buried beneath his calm exterior.

It wasn’t directed toward the pregnancy itself, or even toward his father’s demands. It was directed entirely at her. As though her very existence had intentionally complicated his perfect, calculated life.

In that brutal moment, Lane realized something incredibly painful. Ethan probably blamed her completely for the entire disaster. Maybe he believed she had intentionally seduced him that night in the hotel suite. Maybe he thought she had planned this all along to secure a place in his family. The thought made her stomach ache with physical sickness.

"I don’t want to force him," Lane whispered suddenly, her voice cracking the heavy atmosphere.

Everyone stopped talking, their heads turning to look at her in surprise. Lane swallowed hard around the lump in her throat, forcing herself to continue softly, though her hands were shaking.

"If Ethan doesn’t want this marriage, then we shouldn’t do it. I can handle the—"

"He will marry you." Victor’s authoritative voice left absolutely no room for argument or compromise.

Ethan’s dark eyes narrowed slightly at his father’s tone, though he remained stubbornly silent, choosing not to fight the inevitable.

Catherine squeezed Lane’s hand gently, offering a comforting but firm smile. "This child deserves a complete family, Lane. It’s the right thing to do."

Lane looked down quietly, letting her hands fall limp. She already understood that she had little choice in the matter.

Not when the media was actively destroying her reputation, not when both powerhouse families were deeply involved, and certainly not when an innocent child was coming into the world.

Still, hearing Ethan’s absolute silence hurt more than anything else he could have said. Because he never once said he wanted her. He only agreed that he would take responsibility.

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