

The Revenge Pact
I never asked to be part of a revenge plot. All I wanted was to save my mother’s life and keep a roof over our heads. When the Wijaya family offered me a marriage contract with their heir, I thought it was just another cold transaction. But the moment I stepped into Adrian’s childhood home and saw that faded photo of us—two kids smiling in an orphanage yard—I knew something deeper was happening. Now, every kiss feels like a lie, every touch a manipulation. The truth? Our parents have been planning this for fifteen years. And I’m not just a bride. I’m a weapon they’ve spent a lifetime sharpening.The envelope trembled in my hands. Inside, a single photograph: two children, maybe six years old, holding hands in front of a crumbling orphanage gate. Me. And him. Adrian Wijaya.\n\nFifteen years ago. The same week my mother fell ill. The same month the Sari Textile Mill burned down.\n\nI looked up from the coffee table in Adrian’s mansion, heart pounding. He stood in the doorway, tie loose, eyes shadowed. ‘You weren’t supposed to find that,’ he said quietly.\n\n‘Find what?’ I whispered. ‘That we knew each other before this… arrangement? That you recognized me the moment I walked in?’\n\nHe didn’t answer. Just took a step closer. ‘Some things are better left buried, Alya.’\n\nBut I wasn’t backing down. Not anymore. If our parents had been plotting something for fifteen years, I deserved to know—was I marrying a stranger, or was this all part of a plan written long before we met?
