AARON WALLACE POV

I started playing golf at four, mastering my putting while chasing shots with my cousins. In a family where the game is tradition, golf becomes more than a sport. It's how we gamble, how we agree, and how we argue. If you hate losing, like I do, you have to perfect your game.

"Bloody hell, there it is," Raphael's daughter disappointedly said as we reached the next hole. Both Dad's and my ball had landed cleanly on the fairway.

"They really are good," her sister said under her breath, but I caught it. I glanced back and nodded. Their ball had gone off-course, and they had to replay their shot.

"Aren't you too pompous?" the first sister called, trailing behind me and Dad as I grabbed a club from Keenan.

"What can I say?"

"Oh my God," she muttered, turning away as I adjusted my sunglasses.

"Take your shot, Wallaces," Shaun Hebrew called out, impatient. He was too competitive to even let his daughters take a swing. They stood quietly beside him, smiling now and then when we made eye contact.

"Don't worry, Hebrew. You're losing today," Dad replied. He said it playfully, but there was a tightness in his voice. He hated it when anyone questioned his dominance. He leaned toward me, clapped a hand on my shoulder, and muttered, "Take a breath. Win it now."

Exactly what I thought. He'd had enough of Hebrew bragging. That worked in my favor. I was already itching to get out of here and ditch this polo shirt.

I focused on the shot, analyzing the 300-yard distance. I didn't blink as I swung. The ball launched, cutting through the air along the line we had planned.

I watched its arc as gravity pulled it down. Unlike normal people, I can mentally track the ball. Feel it bounced, rolled cleanly across the green, slowed, and then...boom.

Tell you what? It was just the work of my confidence.

"Aced," I said, pushing my sunglasses up and handing the club to Keenan. Dad smiled proudly.

The others just stared at us, caught somewhere between disbelief and denial. Which is understandable. Without a clear view of the hole, who could blame them?

"Impossible," Hebrew laughed, unsettled.

"Want to go see for yourself?" Dad gestured toward the carts and signaled Russell, our PR guy, to begin the media coaching session.

"Definitely," Hebrew said, already walking off.

Raphael's older daughter bit back a smile. "Smug," she whispered to me, following her dad.

"Russell, please proceed," Dad said once we were alone.

I took off my hat, ran a hand through my hair, and put it back on. "Can we go back to the lodge and do this there?"

"There's no time. Your flight leaves in an hour. The moment you land, you'll face the media and set the record straight," Dad said sternly. My jaw tightened as I stared at him. "Russell, begin."

"Mister Aaron Wallace, we'll go through it a few times only," Russell said politely, following Dad's instructions.

"What's been seen and associated with my name in the past few days has been nothing but... in relation to me, um..."

Dad scoffed, pulling off his hat and rubbing his face. "No stammering. Make it sound believable, Aaron. Like you always do."

Tension crept through my muscles. I rubbed the sides of my neck and tilted my head, but it didn't ease the stiffness.

The only thing stopping me from snapping back was the thought of Lively's safety. Once you understand how power works, you realize it has never been about clean business. My family thrives on rivalry, especially when it comes to impressing Grandpa. What's terrifying isn't just their ambition, but how good they are at hiding it. For instance, jellyfish, known for their transparency in nature, it's hard to tell their proximity or a horrific intention coming from it. But it carries tentacles containing venomous cells. One sting, and you're done.

My family would do anything to win. And if my parents think marrying me off is their ticket to success, then yes, they should be feared. They can be fatal. I had to protect Lively. Just imagining something happening to her because of me felt like a noose of molten lava tightening around my throat. I couldn't even finish the thought.

"You should know by now, it is not in our family's nature to entertain scandal." I started rehearsing again, but the words dried up. I couldn't focus. This whole setup was a lie, and I wasn't about to stand in front of the press and fake my way through it.

"Scandalous distractions, especially on the cusp of a new era that I will be representing," Russell finished for me. I raised my brows and nodded slightly.

"This isn't a joke," Dad gritted.

"You think I don't know that? Do I look like I'm laughing?" I shot back, my voice tight with frustration. "I'm just exhausted, Dad. You want me here to babysit your guest and also memorize a speech for tonight's appearance? It's too much. I can't even think straight." My chest rose and fell rapidly, heat prickling under my collar.

"And take it as an honor that I'm helping clean up your mess," he growled, stepping into my space. I looked past him, jaw clenched so hard it hurt. This was us now.

"All of this is for your benefit, Aaron," he let out, pacing away, finally giving me some air. I stayed rooted, fighting every urge to lash out. "We have serious investors. They believe in your talent for aeronautical engineering. Today, you'll be the first Wallace to test a solo-designed aircraft. This isn't about painting or launching fashion labels or teas. You'll make your grandfather proud. You'll rise above the rest. Our name will lead the four houses. I'm here to make sure of that."

Wow. Just wow!

My throat felt sore. His words hit like a brick to the gut. I stumbled back a step, unable to answer, stunned by the intensity of his vision. He may be my father, but we didn't believe in the same future.

"Sorry to ruin your master plan, Dad," I said quietly. "But I'm not competing with my cousins."

"Don't be naïve. This is a family race." His voice sharpened. "You think Mason and Dane were placed in office this early by accident? Everything they've done is part of a strategy. But your mother and I have been preparing you for this moment. The delay ends now. Once your aircraft makes headlines tomorrow, it'll all be worth it. You'll marry from one of the honorable houses and build a stronger legacy for the first great-grandchild of Thomas Wallace. These girls, they're everything you deserve. And lucky for you, they all want you. So choose, Aaron."

It was funny how, even when I was offered a choice, the options stayed within invisible borders, already shaped by his preference.

"You said it yourself. I'm about to make a notable impression on my designs. So why do I need anyone else to boost my reputation? When will it ever be enough for you? How much more work do I have to put in?" My voice came out rough and hoarse. A lump was stuck in my throat, choking me.

Keenan and Russell stood by the cart, heads bowed, waiting.

"That girl is not part of our world. Bring her into it and she'll run. She doesn't understand this kind of life. She'll bring disgrace to us and heartbreak to you. You're too young to grasp the weight of these decisions, and I won't let you make that kind of reckless mistake. End that story. And don't let me hear another word about a truck of toys sent to her house."

Wait, what?

I exhaled sharply and spun around, rubbing my neck and tilting it like before, but the motion only deepened the pain, sharpening the headache already clawing at me.

"We had an agreement. You were to stay away from her, and she was to keep her independence," he said from behind me.

"I didn't see her," I grumbled, rubbing my face. Not because I was following their rules. Their threats were the last thing on my mind while I was trying to gather the nerve to face her.

"For one, there were photos of you outside a hospital with a mystery woman. Then, you send her piles of gifts, making her think she stands a chance with you. Don't tell me that a man who spends all day jotting down shipping numbers can afford to buy out a toy store when he can't even support his own family. His wife works overnight shifts."

"Um, good morning, sir." Her voice was soft, shaky. My eyes shut because the sound physically hurt. "Is there anything you need?"

Fuck me.

I turned and saw her. Lively.

She wore a different uniform today, head down, avoiding my eyes. She'd heard everything. He must have seen her coming. He said all of that on purpose. He wanted her to hear his version of her so she'd walk away on her own.

"Actually, yes. Do you have a napkin on you?" he asked, like nothing had just been said.

My brain lagged, still trying to process the way she stood, still.

She hates me.

"Yes, sir," she replied quietly, turning back to the cart to grab whatever he'd requested.

She came back holding a small white towel and a bottle of water. He took the water. She tucked her hair behind her ear and kept her eyes down, refusing to look my way. And she knew that was all I'd wanted to see her.

"Stepped on something. Do you mind cleaning them for me?" Dad asked with wicked politeness, gesturing to his shoe.

Something pounded in my head and reverberated through my chest with a sunken ache. This time, her eyes met mine. She wanted me to see it. My family only valued her when it served them. Her glassy, woeful gaze reflected the fracture, the grief. The soul-deep agony they kept inflicting. She held herself together by biting her inner cheek, then bent down toward his feet.

No.

I stared at him, unable to hide the fury cutting through me. Rage, guilt, pain. It was all there, gutting me. This was his punishment. This image was what he wanted burned into my memory.

I grabbed her before she could start, pulling her to my side where she belonged.

"She's not your servant. She's my fiancée. Back off, Dad."

Something flickered in his eyes. I knew that look. He was about to cross another line.

"Liv, come with me," I said quickly, guiding her gently away, but he called out, calm and firm, "Russell, please read my son's speech so he can memorize it for the press."

He really was going to go there?

"Yes, Mister Wallace," Russell said, scanning the pages in his hands before reading.

"What has been seen and associated with my name in recent days has no connection to me. I was at the hospital only to consult a doctor about my lack of sleep, because of preparations for taking over the office. As you know, my family does not entertain scandal, especially during the rise of a new era I will represent tomorrow. I do not know, nor have any relationship with, the woman being linked to my name."

Liv pulled her hand from mine. Every nerve in me flinched. I didn't need to look. I knew Dad had won.

"I mean, add two and two together. It will make sense," he said casually, soaking in my reaction.

The carts arrived just then.

The Hebrews and Raphaels stepped down, laughing and chatting.

"Well, it was an ace after all," Hebrew said, holding up the ball.

"Of course. Never doubt the charming proficiency of Aaron Wallace in anything he does," Dad replied, smiling proudly at me. "When one of your daughters gets him as a husband, you'll understand what I mean."

The old men laughed.

Seriously?