My Parents Married Me To A BILLIONAIRE DOG In Exchange For Millions

.

.

My Parents Married Me to a Billionaire’s Dog in Exchange for Millions

My name is Blessing, and this is the story of how I was sold for twelve million naira to marry a billionaire’s dog. I was sixteen, the only girl among six children, but in my family, being a girl wasn’t a blessing—it was a burden. My five brothers had uniforms, books, and dreams. I had a rag, a bucket, and a list of chores. I’d never seen the inside of a classroom. When I begged to go to school, my mother slapped me and told me girls were born to serve, not to dream.

I lived in the shadows, eating last, sleeping on a thin mat in the corner while my brothers had beds. My birthday was never celebrated. No one hugged me, no one asked if I was okay. I longed for my mother’s arms, my father’s pride, my brothers’ kindness. But I was invisible, except when something went wrong. Then, the blame always circled back to me.

Everything changed the day Collins, my eldest brother, came home sick. He collapsed, and the panic in our house was like a storm. The hospital said he had a brain tumor. The surgery cost twelve million naira—more than we had ever seen. My parents sold everything: the car, the TV, even my mother’s coral beads. They begged, borrowed, and prayed, but it wasn’t enough. Collins grew weaker. My parents grew desperate.

One night, my mother entered my room, her shadow long and cold. “Blessing, there’s one last way,” she whispered. “There’s a rich man in the city. He’ll pay a fortune to marry his dog to a girl.” I blinked in disbelief. “You want me to marry a dog?” Her face didn’t flinch. “We need that money. This is your chance to help Collins.”

I tried to protest, but my voice trembled. “I’m only sixteen.” She rolled her eyes and left. The next morning, my father called me into the sitting room. “You’re going to be married,” he said. “To the rich man’s dog.” I begged, I cried, but they had already accepted the offer. Twelve million for me. I was just a payment. When I tried to run, my father slapped me and locked me in my room.

At nine o’clock, a black car arrived. A man in a suit looked me over like livestock. “She looks healthy,” he said, handing my father an envelope thick with cash. My parents didn’t even say goodbye. I climbed into the car, clutching my small bag, watching the house fade away. No one waved. No one cared.

We drove into a world I’d never seen—palaces, golden gates, a mansion bigger than anything I’d dreamed. Inside, everything sparkled: marble floors, velvet curtains, chandeliers. I was led through endless halls until finally, I stood before the dog. He was nothing like I imagined. White fur, blue eyes, massive and silent, sitting on a cushion like a king. “Bow,” the man in the suit said. I did, trembling. The dog circled me, sniffed, then nodded. “He accepts you,” the man said.

I was led to a grand room with a bed bigger than my family’s kitchen. The door locked behind me. I cried, lost and alone, not knowing what they wanted from me. At dawn, a young woman named Meera entered. “There are three rules,” she said softly. “Never leave your room without permission. Never try to run away. Never disobey the master.” I stared at her. “The master? You mean the dog?” She nodded, sadness in her eyes. “He’s not just a dog. He’s cursed. Only the heart of a girl who truly loves him can break the spell.”

I didn’t know what to believe. But I had no choice. The next day, Meera brought me a blue dress. “The master wishes to walk with you in the garden.” I followed her, heart pounding. The garden was full of roses, sunlight, and silence. The dog—Kota—sat among the blooms. When he saw me, I heard his voice in my mind, low and sorrowful. “You’re afraid of me.” I gasped. “You can talk?” “Only to the one chosen to break the curse,” he said.

He told me his story. Once, he had been a prince—proud, cold, blind to everything but power. He was cursed by a witch to remain a beast until someone who had suffered more than he had could look at him and not run. “You were sold,” he said gently. “But maybe fate brought you here for more.”

Days passed. Every morning, I walked with Kota in the garden. At first, I kept my distance. But slowly, I stopped flinching. He never barked or growled, just watched me with eyes that seemed to carry centuries of silence. I told him about my life—how my parents called me useless, how I cried at night. He listened, never judging, never turning away.

One morning, he invited me to breakfast. We laughed together, and for the first time, I felt warmth. After breakfast, he showed me a secret room behind the library. In the center stood a giant golden rose. “If this rose dies before I am truly loved, I will remain this way forever,” Kota said. I stared at the shimmering petals, breathless. It wasn’t just his story now—it was mine, too.

That night, I found a book in the library: The Curse of the Forgotten Prince. It told Kota’s story—a prince cursed for his pride, doomed to live as a beast until someone could see the man within. Only the purest form of love, freely given, could break the spell.

I found Kota in the garden, alone beneath the stars. “Dance with me,” I whispered. He hesitated, then placed his paw in my hand. We moved beneath the sycamore tree, awkward but together. The garden shimmered, roses opened, and for the first time, I felt seen. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For seeing me.”

The next morning, I woke to see a woman’s face in the mirror—long silver hair, eyes glowing with power and sadness. “Blessing,” she said. “You’re changing everything. You have the rarest gift—a heart that sees beyond the surface.” She warned me: darkness was coming, and I would have to trust my heart.

Two days later, Meera brought me a letter from home. My brother was sick again. My parents begged for help, not love. I cried, not because I missed them, but because I realized I didn’t belong to them anymore.

That night, a storm raged. Kota struggled against the curse, transforming into something wild and terrifying. Jake, his right-hand man, led me to him. “Anchor him,” he said. I knelt beside Kota, laid my hand on his fur. “You’re not alone,” I whispered. “I choose to stay.” The wind howled, the castle shook, but Kota calmed. By dawn, the storm was gone. He was tired, but lighter.

That evening, Kota called me to the great hall. The room was dark, candles floating like stars. He stood in the center, body shimmering with light. His true form appeared—wings, horns, markings glowing. “Do you still see me?” he asked. Tears filled my eyes. “Yes,” I whispered. “I choose you, in every form, forever.” The curse cracked. Light poured from Kota, and when it faded, he was human—warm, real, alive. “I’m free,” he whispered. “We both are.”

The castle came alive. Doors unlocked, staff smiled, and I was no longer a prisoner. I learned to read, to write, to dance barefoot in the garden. I looked in the mirror and saw a girl who had once been invisible, now radiant.

One morning, my parents arrived, begging for help. My mother’s voice was gentle, but her eyes were greedy. “Collins is sick. We need money.” My father demanded to see the treasure rooms. Kota entered, calm but powerful. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said. My mother was shocked to see him human. “You sold me to a dog,” I said. “And that’s the only reason the curse broke.” My father tried to claim me, but Kota stepped forward. “If you touch her again, I will forget mercy.” The guards escorted my parents out.

Kota walked me back to my room, his touch gentle. “You’ll never be treated like that again,” he promised. For the first time, I felt truly safe.

Under the old tree in the garden, Kota knelt with a golden ring. “Blessing,” he said, “not because I was cursed, not because I needed saving, but because I love you.” Tears filled my eyes—not of pain, but of freedom and choice. “Yes,” I whispered.

And that’s how the girl who was sold like an object became a queen. Not because of magic, but because of love that saw her, chose her, and never asked her to be anything but herself.

The End.

.

play video: