AARON WALLACE POV

I stood outside the hospital, deafened in a sizzling silence. Going in felt like gambling with the progress I've made. Destroying it was a fear that gripped my brain with lethal intensity.

She didn't say it, but she blamed herself for giving in to being with me. The shattered look on her face when she stared at her phone was enough indication. I could still feel her shove against my chest, for once unsure what to do.

"Aaron Wallace, who's the mystery woman you came with?"

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"Your birthday's next month. Anything we should expect?"

"What about Ruby Denzel?"

"Is it true Steven Wallace finally remarried after years of mourning his late wife?"

"How do you feel stepping into the office next month as one of the youngest CEOs of a multi-billion-dollar company?"

"Mister Wallace?" a familiar voice called through the clutter of flashes and microphones pushed into my face.

Keenan. He had followed. Rushing forward with his arms out, he formed a barrier until I slipped into the car he'd driven here.

As the door shut, a sharp pain stabbed through my head. I closed my eyes, rubbing my temples, aware of Keenan's presence and the car starting to move.

"I thought this summer would be journalist free," I scoffed. "That's what security promised. But now they're dragging Lively into this. She's not ready for it. She has other things to deal with."

"My apologies, Mister Wallace. The rumor about your uncle's wedding stirred things up," Keenan answered, eyes fixed on the road.

"These are intel we should be ten steps ahead of."

"It will be handled. I'll assign men to make sure Miss Kelby's family isn't bothered by the press."

"Good." I sighed, though it didn't ease the weight in my chest.

I hadn't even introduced her to my world properly. We hadn't talked about it yet. Yesterday, all I wanted was to show her the good side of what we could be. I hadn't warned her about the spotlight she would step into as the approved granddaughter-in-law of Thomas Wallace.

Now with that four-generation ring around her finger, her world was about to flip with a single photo.

"Did you find out what's wrong with Bubble?" I asked the man.

"The hospital isn't releasing any information, sir. But we are still working on it."

Of course they weren't.

"And Mister Wallace?" Keenan paused, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

He looked apologetic.

"What is it, Keenan?" I demanded.

"Your parents have provided quarters for the Hebrew and Raphael families at the estate."

"What? Shaun Hebrew?" I scoffed. How was that possible with Grandpa still there?

"I believe their daughters are positioned for your consideration," he said carefully.

"No way."

That was the one thing missing. My parents' matchmaking bias.

We passed a live broadcast outside the estate where the press had gathered, the same one playing silently on the car's entertainment screen. I hadn't been paying attention until I noticed Uncle Steven speaking to reporters about his marriage. Just another routine if you had my last name. This family had mastered the art of cleaning up scandals before they ever reached the media.

Aside from Kyle's recurring troubles, the last major incident was the accident, and that only made it out because you can't bury death.

But everything else had to stay within our walls.

Grandpa believed the worst punishment was giving someone leverage over you.

A Wallace lead, and that alone.

That fact had been drilled into me since I was a child.

"There are newly added members of the Wallace family who, unfortunately, couldn't join me today because of some private bonding time inside. My late wife was a good woman. We will always..."

I turned off the screen at the sound of my uncle's voice just as Keenan drove through the open gate.

As the car was parked, Harold opened my door and greeted me. I was tense, ready to confront my family. I hadn't forgotten what happened yesterday. Whatever they'd done to Lively while I was gone, I planned to get answers. And now playing matchmakers? I wasn't about to tolerate any more of their toxic behavior.

I made my way across the portico and into the house.

"Where are my parents?" I stopped a passing staff member.

"By the lake, sir."

"What about Grandpa?"

"He left this morning," she replied.

Well, that explained my parents' courage.

I exhaled, holding onto the classic Wallace composure. Collected. Confident. Nonchalance.

They wouldn't gaslight me again, not after everything I'd given this family. Just this once, I deserved something for myself. If Grandpa could agree with me, they would fall in line.

Stepping into the lakeside breeze, I followed the path toward the stone steps.

There they were, gathered under the shade, sipping tea with their guests, acting like saints while plotting my future like I was a child.

My dad spotted me first. His eyes sharpened with alertness as he stood, excused himself with a strained smile, and walked toward me.

We met at the base of the first stairs.

"What are you two scheming?" I forced out, wearing a smile I didn't mean.

"Behave. We have guests. Charm their daughters. Pick the one you enjoy spending time with the most," he instructed, tone low and fake as his grin.

Had he lost it?

"Where were you when I asked Lively to marry me and she said yes?" I quietly growled, barely keeping it together.

He stepped closer, shielding me from view.

"I said act right. No whining. Be a man. Be a Wallace," he hissed.

I glared at him with my jaw tight, throat burning with words I wanted to spit. But if I said them, we'd both regret it.

So I forced my hands to relax, unclenched my teeth, and took a breath.

For the public image's sake, I smiled, patted his arm like we were the perfect father and son, even as bitterness choked me. We walked down the other stairs together, joining the Raphael and Hebrew families.

"Young Mister Wallace," Shaun Hebrew welcomed me.

"Aaron, sweetheart, come meet our dear friends," Mom reached out for me.

All in the picture-perfect package, I kissed her cheek, then shook hands with the men and gave polite hugs to their wives and four girls, who all looked like Ruby in some way.

"The last time we saw you, you were ten," Missus Raphael said as I sat.

My cocktail arrived instantly from the staff.

God knows I needed something to wash down the bile in my throat.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I left the States."

"That's hard to believe. I heard you fly all kinds of planes," said a blue-eyed girl with a British accent. Probably Raphael's daughter.

"I do, but not too far," I replied, trying not to sound uptight.

"Aaron's planning to pursue space engineering for his second master's in London. It was supposed to be this year," Mom added proudly, rubbing my knee, "but he's got responsibilities lined up starting next month."

"I'll be your first customer when you take over the company," another girl remarked, one whose name I'd already forgotten. "But only if you take me for a flying test before that."

"Is that so?" I might have smirked. No, I definitely did. It was too ridiculous not to.

All the girls giggled.

I wasn't being funny.

***

Once the tea party ended and the guests were escorted back to their quarters by my ever-dearest parents, I returned to our wing and waited for them, legs crossed on the armchair.