Between Love and Control

Chapter 1

William Everhart finds himself thrust into an unexpected reality after being transported to a new life where he's sold by his father to a man ten years his senior as a “lucky charm” fiancé. The man, stern and aloof, frequently frightens William with his cold demeanor, but as they spend more time together, William discovers a caring side that provides him with financial support, a home, and a wardrobe overhaul—along with surprising tenderness hidden beneath the frosty exterior.
---
**Chapter One**
Just when William Everhart severed ties with his family, he muttered to himself, "From now on, I’m just a penniless, homeless orphan."
His fiancé frowned at the proclamation. “That’s not going to happen.”
Moments later, William’s bank account received a significant deposit.
Next, he was sent a property listing file on his phone.
“Which one do you like? Choose freely,” the man said, gesturing for William to browse through the options.
**Chapter Two**
One evening, the man returned home from work to find William walking barefoot around the house.
"Why are you barefoot?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
William smiled shyly. "Because it feels nice."
The man fell silent. The very next day, William woke up to find plush carpets covering every place in the house he frequented.
---
**Westport.**
In a VIP single patient room of the hospital, a young man lay on the bed, his head heavily bandaged, staring vacantly out the window.
He was remarkably beautiful—his delicate, porcelain-like face framed by soft strands of hair, his pale skin smooth as silk. His lips, a soft pink, were plump and inviting, and his almond-shaped eyes sparkled like clear springs, radiating warmth and charm.
As he exhaled a sigh that felt all too familiar, he turned his gaze to the ceiling for a moment before shutting his eyes again.
William sighed yet again, feeling frustrated within. He had fallen prey to the legendary experience of being “booked into a story,” a concept he had only heard of in whispers.
Reflecting on the plot of the book into which he had been unwittingly thrust, William couldn’t help but let out another sigh.
He had landed in a romance novel where the female lead was adored by many, and he was simply one of her many suitors. Strangely, he was neither the devoted second male lead nor the heartbroken antagonist but merely a distracted side character driven by fleeting desires.
This accident that led to his hospital bed stemmed from a selfish plan to secure the female lead for himself, intending to drug her only to be caught red-handed by the male lead—they had beaten him up as a lesson.
Clamping his eyes shut, he worked hard to recall the storyline, but alas, he hadn’t read this particular novel himself, only heard bits and pieces from his younger cousin. No matter how he tried, the conclusion of the original character remained elusive.
Overwhelmed by it all, he resolved to distance himself from the main leads and their intertwined lives.
A sudden knock on the door snapped him from his thoughts. He opened his eyes in silence, as the person delivering his meal stepped inside.
Without fail, a young man in a sleek black suit entered, carrying a thermos of food.
“Good afternoon, Master William,” he greeted with a respectful bow before moving to the small table at the far side of the room to set down the food containers.
After arranging everything, he turned back to William and said, “You can eat now.”
With that, he stepped quietly out of the room.
William, accustomed to this routine, got out of bed and made his way to the table.
He had been in this world for about two weeks, and throughout that time, no one had come to visit him or even called. The only consistent presence was this man, bringing meals every day, along with the nurses and doctors tending to him.
William learned that the original William hadn’t reached out to any family after his accident. He was not originally from Westport; he hailed from Newhaven.
Finishing his meal, William returned to his hospital bed and pulled out his phone, scrolling through a simple game to pass the time. Just when he was beginning to lose himself in the pixels, his phone buzzed with an incoming call.
He stared at the caller ID, momentarily stunned. This was the first call he received since arriving here.
Swiping to answer, he said, "Hello."
Silence filled the line, making him wonder if it was a mistake. Just as he was about to hang up, a furious voice erupted, "William. Have you forgotten to call me 'Dad' now? I see you’ve..."
Instantly, the visage and voice of his original character’s father came into sharp focus in his mind. He quickly interjected, “Sorry, Dad, my last phone broke, and this new one has no saved contacts.”
That wasn’t a lie. The original William’s phone had indeed been smashed, and this was a new purchase.
On the other end, the man paused, his voice softening slightly. “When are you coming home?”
Before William could respond, the man continued, “You’ve been away for six months now. Are you really not planning on returning?”
“I’ll be back soon. Within a couple of days,” William assured him.
The original body was nearly healed, and since he had resolved to steer clear of the story, he figured it was the perfect chance to return.
When his father realized how easily William submitted, the planned scolding faltered, shifting instead to a more caring tone. “William. Have you been mistreated out there?”
Coincidentally, William noticed that he was still referred to as William back in his former life. Due to his frail health as a child, he often spent more time in hospitals, which resulted in familial affection that felt both warm and stifling.
Upon hearing the familiar tone and name, a lump formed in his throat.
“No, I just wanted to come home,” William said, taking a deep breath to stifle the emotions threatening to spill over.
Understanding his son’s inclination toward stubbornness, his father opted not to press further. “When you come back, there’s something I need to tell you.”
William opened his mouth to ask what, but he could hear someone speaking on the other side of the line, cutting through the conversation.
---

Chapter 2

“Little Leo, your dad has some things to take care of, so I can’t chat right now. Come back early.”
William Everhart listened to the beeping sound of the phone, slowly pulled it away from his ear, and opened a game on his phone to pass the time.
Later that evening, the delivery person came in with meals, just like at noon, and set everything up neatly.
Before the man could leave, William called out, “Wait a minute.”
The man paused, turned around, and asked, “Is there something you need, young master?”
“I’m feeling better now. I’ll be discharged tomorrow, so you don’t have to come back,” William replied.
The man nodded without much reaction, “Alright.”
After that, he exited the room.
...
Once William completed the discharge procedures, he grabbed what little luggage he had and headed for the airport.
Newhaven was quite far from Westport. The original William Everhart had run away from home after fighting with his family and had fallen deeply in love with Eliza Everhart after meeting her there, so he had decided to stay.
He had even purchased a house close to Eliza’s place, in the same neighborhood.
To avoid any unnecessary trouble, William thought for a moment and ultimately decided not to go back home; instead, he went directly to the airport after leaving the hospital.
Having spent over six months in Westport, where he had spent nearly every day revolving around Eliza, he hadn't made any friends. The young man who brought him meals at the hospital was someone he had been paying to help him.
Before boarding the plane, he called his father, Marcus Everhart, to inform him of his flight time.
Although his head still ached somewhat, he no longer needed to wear a bandage. After removing it, he discovered that the original William not only looked exactly like him but also shared the same naturally curly hair.
It felt almost surreal, William thought to himself.
However, since he was here, he decided to accept his fate. The original William had died on the operating table, and thinking about how his family would grieve after his death made his chest feel heavy. Thankfully, there was more than one child in the family.
Soon, the plane landed at its destination, and when William stepped off, he saw his father's secretary, Sir Edward Jenkins.
His father’s marriage situation was complicated.
“Sir Edward,” William greeted, as he approached, dragging along his few belongings.
“Young master, Mr. Everhart sent me to pick you up,” Sir Edward said, taking the luggage from William’s hands.
“Thank you. I appreciate it,” William replied, offering a smile laced with the remnants of sleep.
With delicate features and a charming disposition, William's smile revealed two faint dimples. His eyes still glistened with sleep, making him look even more youthful.
Sir Edward paused for a brief moment, taken aback by the transformation in William. He hadn’t expected such a polite thank-you and a genuine smile from someone who used to be rather arrogant whenever he’d pick him up at the hospital—usually tossing his bags at him disdainfully.
It seemed odd that a trip to Westport could change him so drastically.
“Glad to help,” Sir Edward replied, subtly shaking off his confusion.
As they left the airport, William asked, “Is my dad at home or still at the office?”
“Mr. Everhart is at the office,” Sir Edward replied.
“Oh.”
With that, they fell into silence, William pulling out his phone to play games again.
An hour later, the car stopped in front of a grand villa.
Sir Edward exited the vehicle and opened the door for William, saying, “Young master, we’ve arrived.”
After a minute without movement from William, Sir Edward glanced in, only to find him fast asleep against the window, his phone dropped beside him.
The evening sunlight filtered through the window, casting a golden hue on the boy's dark hair, highlighting his fair complexion.
With delicate eyelashes fluttering slightly, and breathing steadily, he looked like a sleeping prince.
Sir Edward couldn’t help but hesitate to wake him; it felt somewhat cruel.
Just then, William stirred awake, blinking at Sir Edward beside the door, his voice soft from sleep, “Have we arrived?”
“Yes,” Sir Edward confirmed immediately.
William nodded, climbed out of the car, and thanked Sir Edward again, “Thanks.”
“Not at all, it’s my duty,” Sir Edward replied, watching as William walked away.
As he observed the young man, Sir Edward thought about how much William seemed to have transformed; was it possible he had faced some difficulties while he was away?
William moved slowly toward his family home, guided by the memories of the original William.
Upon entering the grand foyer, he was surprised to find a gathering of people in the living room, momentarily taken aback.
Why were there so many people?
William scanned the crowd, trying to recognize anyone from the flurry of memories that came rushing back. Besides his father and stepmother, as well as his half-brother, none of the other guests seemed familiar.
Before he had time to process, his father looked up and beamed, “William’s back! Come here!”
With that call, all eyes in the living room turned to him, many assessing glances among them.
William offered a polite smile and walked over to greet his father, “Dad.”
He then turned to Lady Arabella, seated beside his father, “Aunt Edith.”
His sweet and compliant manner caught Lady Arabella off guard, and she answered slowly, “Ah, you’re back.”
“Dad, I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll head upstairs to rest,” William said. He didn’t enjoy large gatherings, especially among people he didn’t know, so he wanted to retreat to his own room for some peace.
His father seemed poised to say something but ultimately waved his hand, understanding the fatigue evident in William’s eyes. “Alright, you go on up. Have Mistress Margaret bring you dinner.”

Chapter 3

William Everhart heard this and felt a weight lift off him. He trudged upstairs to his room.
Once inside, William tossed his belongings onto the floor and collapsed onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.
His family situation mirrored that of many stories in the rich and powerful genre; his biological mother had passed away, leaving him with a stepmother, a half-brother, and a half-sister.
This was precisely why he had run away to Westport.
As the saying goes, when there's a stepmother, a stepfather is soon to follow, and that held true for his family, as well.
In truth, William had been begrudgingly accepting of his father's remarriage. What had truly disturbed him was the discovery that his father's new wife had two children, just two years younger than him.
At first, he believed the woman had been married before.
It was only six months later that he learned those children were actually his father's — a revelation that implied his father had been cheating even while his mother was alive.
When he found out, an explosive argument ensued, and William stormed out of the house.
Upon arriving in Westport, he drowned his sorrows in a bar and met Lady Isabella, who was working part-time at the establishment.
From there, a series of events began to unfold, and now he recalled them with a vague sense of annoyance.
William was not one to enjoy deep thoughts.
Mostly because he never had any.
As he pondered these troublesome memories, a wave of frustration washed over him. In his past life, he had been the apple of everyone's eye, only to find himself reborn as a neglected son in a broken family.
Knock, knock, knock.
A knock sounded on the door. "William, may I come in?"
It was his father's voice.
William got up, "Sure."
As the door opened, his father, Eliza Everhart, walked in with a broad smile.
Seeing that smile, William couldn't shake a nagging feeling of dread.
"William, Dad wants to discuss something with you," Eliza began forthrightly.
While it might have sounded like an invitation for dialogue, the tone felt more like an announcement.
William remained silent.
"I've arranged a marriage for you," Eliza continued. "You're no longer a child."
"Wait a second." William was stunned and immediately interrupted, "What do you mean, a marriage?"
He was alarmed, as he seriously doubted his own hearing; if his memory served him correctly, he was only twenty.
"Exactly what you think it means," Eliza replied coldly. "The other party is Lord Sebastian Sinclair."
"Mom, I'm only twenty!" William couldn't help but feel baffled, uncertain of his father's motives.
"Twenty is old enough to get a license," Eliza responded matter-of-factly.
"I don't want to." William rejected the idea outright. Aside from being too young, he considered marriage a sacred bond meant for two people who love each other.
He couldn't imagine marrying a complete stranger; that would be unfair to both of them.
Anticipating William's reaction, Eliza persisted, ignoring his refusal. "William, you're aware of Lord Sebastian's standing in Newhaven. Mom isn’t forcing you to marry him; he specifically asked for you, and so do I."
The more William listened, the more confused he became. Marry? Shouldn't it be 'wed'?
"Wait. Marry? Shouldn't it be wed?" he exclaimed in disbelief.
"It would be simpler if it were," Eliza replied.
"Why am I the one who is marrying?" William asked.
"You are being betrothed to Lord Sebastian, William. I'd be too scared to ask for a wedding," Eliza clarified.
William was bewildered. Lord Sebastian? The name sounded distinctly male.
"So, the other party is a man," William hesitantly questioned.
Eliza looked at him, exasperated, as if what he said was obvious. "Of course, who else would it be?"
William sat on the edge of the bed, absorbing what Eliza had just said.
Lord Sebastian Sinclair, thirty years old, CEO of Sinclair Industries, had been in a car accident last month and had yet to regain consciousness.
Because of his prolonged unconsciousness, the previous head of the Sinclair family (Lord Sebastian's grandfather) found a fortune teller, who claimed a 'sacrificial marriage' was necessary to reverse his fortunes.
The fortune teller discovered that William's birth date was the most compatible for this 'sacrificial marriage.'
Thus, the Sinclair family had come to him.
William felt a mix of annoyance and reluctant understanding. Coming from a wealthy family, he knew those with money often held irrational beliefs.
But why did it have to be him?
Thinking back on Eliza's words that Sinclair's people were set to come pick him up for the hospital tomorrow, he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him.
At this point, he had no choice but to comply.
Yet, if he considered it from a different perspective, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. After all, marrying into the Sinclair family could mean a life free of worries.
He had no grand ambitions; the thing he enjoyed most was zoning out, and he wasn't anyone exceptional.
That night, as he lay in bed, William mulled over these troubling thoughts, which brought to mind his parents from his past life. A swell of emotional pain rose within him, and his eyes began to well up with tears.
He didn’t enjoy this new life at all.
He didn't want to marry a stranger.
He longed to go home, back to where he truly belonged.
But he couldn't go back; he was dead.
Tears streamed down his face as he buried himself in his pillow, sobbing uncontrollably.
William was not a strong person; he was sensitive, emotionally fragile, and timid. His only redeeming quality might be his agreeable nature.
But to outsiders, that merely appeared as weakness.
As the sun began to rise, a new day dawned.
After getting up and washing his face, William stayed in his room to play video games.
Before long, Steward George knocked on the door, urging him to come down for breakfast.
Due to the tears he shed the previous night, his eyes were puffy, resembling two ripe peaches, giving him a pitiable yet endearing appearance.

Chapter 4

Marcus Everhart had left the Everhart Manor early that morning, heading straight to The Guild, while his half-brothers had departed for school.
Now, the grand halls of Everhart Manor were empty, with only him remaining.
Steward George observed Marcus's swollen red eyes and immediately fetched an ice pack for him.
After having dinner, Marcus sank into the sofa, applying the cold compress to his own eyes.
Steward George was somewhat aware of the situation regarding the union with the House of Sinclair. He watched as the once rambunctious troublemaker sat quietly on the sofa, his eyes telling a story of a long night spent crying.
Feeling sympathy, George ached for Marcus.
Before noon, Marcus called him with an update.
"People from the House of Sinclair will be arriving shortly," he said over the phone. "I have a meeting that I can't skip, but I'll swing by Sinclair Hall when I can."
William Everhart glanced at the disconnected call with an exasperated expression. A hint of pity welled up in him for the original Marcus.
Sure enough, just after lunch, the Sinclair family arrived.
Five guests, in total, one of whom William recognized from his arrival yesterday, stood at the forefront of the gathering.
Leading the group was a man in his seventies, dressed in a traditional suit, leaning on a polished wooden cane.
William surmised this must be his fiancé, Lord Adrian Sinclair's grandfather.
The old man approached with a kind smile, “William.”
“Uh, yes, that’s me,” William stammered, feeling unexpected pressure even though the man's expression was warm and inviting.
The elder scanned William up and down, his smile widening as he nodded, “Good, good! Did your father tell you why we’re here?”
William nodded obediently. “He did.”
“And what are your thoughts on it?” the elder inquired, still maintaining his gentle tone.
“I agree,” William replied after brief hesitation, giving a slight nod.
While he wished to refuse, his father had been virtually pleading with him the day before, and in a moment of weakness, he acquiesced.
The old man beamed even wider at his response, “Ah, do you know who I am?”
“Uh, somewhat,” William hesitated. “You’re Lord Sebastian Sinclair's grandfather.”
“Ha! Well, that makes me your grandfather now too!” the elder laughed heartily, his smile more genuine and the pressure dissipated.
“Grandpa,” William echoed softly, adjusting to the unexpected familial connection.
Dressed simply in a white T-shirt and jeans, with uncolored black hair while everyone else sported flamboyant styles, William appeared well-mannered and attractive, embodying modesty that pleased Old Lord Sinclair immensely.
After confirming that William agreed to the arrangement, the elder, who was clearly in poor health, ushered him into a waiting vehicle.
“We’ll head to The Great Hospital first. Have you ever met Lord Sebastian?”
William shook his head, “No, I haven’t.”
That was the truth; the original Marcus had never crossed paths with Lord Sebastian Sinclair. Though Sebastian occasionally graced the finance pages, Marcus paid little attention, especially with the vast age gap separating them by a decade.
Old Lord Sinclair nodded knowingly and began to ask William about school and interests.
An hour later, they arrived at The Great Hospital.
This establishment was also owned by the House of Sinclair.
Just as they stepped out of the vehicle, an assistant received a call revealing that Lord Sebastian had regained consciousness.
Sir Roland Sinclair's eyes sparked with hope as he looked at William. “It seems you’re our lucky charm, William,” he exclaimed, grasping William’s hands in enthusiasm.
Feeling slightly awkward, William wondered about this uncanny timing.
Sir Roland didn’t linger long—his grandson waking was all that mattered, and he led the group swiftly to the third floor.
William followed the others into the lavish hospital room, which felt less like a medical facility and more like a luxury suite.
As he took in the opulent decor, the realization hit him just how affluent his fiancé actually was.
Behind Sir Roland, he walked through a plush lounge area to reach the bedroom where a man reclined in a hospital bed.
The man was strikingly handsome, with high cheekbones and a cold demeanor, exuding elegance even in his hospital gown. At first glance, he didn’t seem like someone who had just emerged from a serious illness.
William stood by, watching discreetly; perhaps this arrangement wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Sir Roland approached, leaning heavily on his cane, excitement bubbling in his voice, “I’m glad to see you awake.”
“Sorry for worrying you, Grandpa,” Lord Sebastian replied, voice smooth and melodious, adding to his striking presence.
“We shouldn’t talk about that right now. How do you feel? Has Doctor Nathaniel been in to see you?” Sir Roland asked, concern painted on his face.
“I'm okay; he has.” Lord Sebastian's responses were brief and to the point.
They talked about the events leading up to the accident, but it wasn’t long before Sir Roland turned his attention back to William.
With a glowing expression, he explained the concept of ‘bringing luck’ to the family that William had been unintentionally thrust into.
However, Lord Sebastian's face contorted in displeasure, his voice tinged with reluctance, “Grandpa, I don’t agree.”
Although his tone was soft and contained an undercurrent of weakness, the resistance was palpably clear.
Immediately, the elation in Sir Roland's demeanor ebbed, the atmosphere in the room shifting, cooling with the tension rising between them.
“I’ve never interfered with your decisions before, but this time you must heed my wishes,” Sir Roland spoke slowly, his tone now serious, underscoring his intent.

Chapter 5

“I can’t agree to that.” Lord Sebastian Sinclair replied coolly, his demeanor unyielding.
“Are you trying to drive me to my grave?” Sir Roland Sinclair exclaimed as he rose from his seat, pointing an accusing finger at the figure lying in the hospital bed, his voice laced with anger.
Lord Sebastian remained silent, his refusal conveyed through an icy stillness.
The two men faced off, the tension palpable in the sterile hospital room.
In the corner, William Everhart stood nervously, fidgeting with his fingers, unsure of how to intervene. He felt a twinge of frustration—if Lord Sebastian didn't consent, he certainly had no intention of agreeing either.
After what felt like an eternity, Sir Roland sighed in resignation. “Let’s make a compromise. My health hasn’t been great these last couple of years, and I’m genuinely worried about you. You could at least try to get along with him for a while.”
Before Sir Roland could finish his plea, Lord Sebastian’s expression remained unchanged as he bluntly responded, “I don’t agree.”
Sir Roland opened his mouth, suppressing harsher words, before responding, “Even if it takes a plea from Grandpa, how about spending some time together? If it doesn’t work out, we can revisit this later?”
Lord Sebastian paused, taken aback momentarily, but eventually gave a faint nod.
William, having observed their exchange, couldn’t help but conclude that his fiancé seemed rather heartless.
Sir Roland’s smile returned immediately, and he waved at William. “Come here, dear William!” he called, gesturing for him to join them.
Lord Sebastian turned his gaze to follow Sir Roland’s hand.
A strikingly handsome young man stepped forward.
William wore a simple white t-shirt and light blue jeans, his slender frame highlighted by softly tousled black hair, sparkling eyes, a delicate nose, and a slightly pouty mouth on a face that was pale and smooth.
Lord Sebastian blinked, realizing that his fiancé looked youthful—could he still be a minor? Suddenly, he felt a pang of regret for having softened his stance so easily at Sir Roland's request.
William approached slowly, his footsteps hesitant as he reached the side of Lord Sebastian's bed.
Sir Roland, weary from the morning’s exertions and his declining health, chuckled. “I’m exhausted. I’ll leave you two to get to know each other. I’ll let William keep you company.”
Without waiting for a response, he leaned on his cane and strolled out of the room.
Once Sir Roland departed, the assistants followed suit, leaving William Everhart and Lord Sebastian alone, each staring at the other in awkward silence.
The stillness felt oppressive; William could practically hear his own heartbeat echoing in the quiet space.
Feeling embarrassed, he lowered his gaze, avoiding eye contact with the man in the bed.
Just as he mustered the courage to break the tension, Lord Sebastian suddenly spoke.
“How old are you?” he asked unexpectedly.
William looked up, his tone polite as he replied, “I’m twenty. I’ll turn twenty-one in October.”
“Hmm.” Lord Sebastian nodded, his countenance still as unreadable as ever.
Silence enveloped the room once more.
“What if…”
“My grandfather…”
After enduring the uncomfortable silence for a while, William couldn't take it any longer and wanted to excuse himself. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Lord Sebastian cut in.
“Go ahead,” William urged, eager to let him speak first.
“I don’t want you to take my relationship with you too seriously. My grandfather, he…”
Lord Sebastian's voice held a touch of irritation. “But this may delay you for a while. When the time comes, I’ll explain everything to him, and I’ll ensure you receive appropriate compensation for the inconvenience.”
William’s ears perked up at the word “compensation.” The Sinclair family’s wealth had to mean a significant amount.
As the thought crossed his mind that pretending to get along for a while could yield a hefty payout, William’s eyes lit up with determination. “I agree.”
Lord Sebastian showed little emotion, simply nodding. “I’ll have my lawyer draft up a contract for you shortly.”
“Got it.” William thought wryly, typical of a businessman—everything needed a contract.
“If there’s nothing else, I need to rest now,” Lord Sebastian said, dismissing him.
“Sure!”
As William left the hospital room, he noticed the plush sofa in the living area and suddenly felt drowsy.
He had a tendency to sleep a lot.
After a brief deliberation, he walked over to the sofa, kicked off his shoes, and settled into a comfortable position, quickly drifting off.
When he awoke again, it was evening. The warm golden light of the setting sun spilled through the large windows, casting soft shadows upon his feet.
Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he sat up with his legs crossed on the sofa.
Something had fallen onto the floor from him; he glanced to see a deep blue blanket lying there.
It seemed someone had covered him while he slept.
Turning toward Lord Sebastian's room, he wondered if it was him who had done that.
After a moment of staring nostalgically at the stunning sunset outside, he slowly got up from the sofa, put on his shoes, and felt a rumbling in his stomach. He was hungry.
After getting dressed, he prepared to head out in search of something to eat.
As he passed by Lord Sebastian's door, his footsteps hesitated.
He considered whether to knock to see if Lord Sebastian had any food to share.
Just as he mulled over the decision, the door swung open, revealing a man in a black suit, glasses perched on his nose, loaded down with a stack of documents.
The man looked surprised to see William, but he quickly brushed past him, continuing on his way.
With the door now open, William finally stepped inside the room.

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