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Alliance

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Chapter 9: Alliance (Rose's POV)

The restaurant bustled around me, families and friends talking animatedly over lunch. I, on the other hand, stood alone at the entrance, my anticipation mounting with each passing minute as I prepared for yet another blind date despite knowing that all that anticipation would fizzle out into oblivion, never to be seen again. 

Those words summarized the story of my life for the past week. 

Blind date after blind date, disaster after disaster. Absolute horror. 

It all started a little over a week ago when my parents demanded my presence at their place. That should have been my first clue. My father inviting me for a meal? Strike one. 

"How have you been, Rose?" Dad asked, leaving the meal before him untouched at the dining table. 

My movements slowed in confusion before I set my cutlery down to meet his gaze at the head of the table. "Good," I answered hesitantly. "Why do you ask?" 

He scoffed lightly, "Is it so weird for a father to ask about his daughter's well-being?" 

My eyes darted to Dom's across the table. "No," I replied in Mandarin, "of course not. I've been well, Dad." Dom almost cringed at my response, and that confused me more. What the hell was going on? 

"We've been meaning to speak to you," my mother added. 

"About what?" I questioned. 

"We've been thinking, Rose... and it's high time for you to settle down," Dad said sternly. 

I almost choked on the drink going down my throat. "Excuse me?" 

"It's not like this is news to you, Rose," Dad said, "we went over this months ago." 

I sputtered, desperate for a way not only out of this conversation but out of this fucking house. All of a sudden, it felt like the walls were closing in on me. "But Dad—" 

"But nothing, Rose," he snapped firmly. "You've been dodging me, running from this inevitable conversation for months now, and I've had it." 

All the fight crawling up my throat died in the hollow pits of my stomach when I met my father's gaze. There was no difference; whether I was a child or an adult, nothing terrified me more than that look in my father's eyes. 

My father rarely ever raised his voice at anyone; his rage was often quiet, and what made it all the more terrifying was knowing that if I made one wrong move, uttered one word that rubbed him the wrong way... then he would explode. He always did. 

"Shénme?" he asked, lifting his brows at me daringly. 'What?' "Are you going to argue with me now?" It wasn't a question, it was a fucking challenge. He'd rip me apart if I tried. 

No one in the world made me feel as weak, brittle, and helpless as my father. I despised him for it. 

Lowering my gaze as I shook my head, I mumbled, "Méiyǒu." 'No.' 

"Good. We need allies, Rose. And to make allies, we need an alliance. I've arranged for you to go on a few blind dates with some boys—the sons of a few friends and old business partners. I'll have my assistant send you the schedule I've prepared. You know what to do, yes?" 

I lifted my gaze to his, my jaw clenched and ticking. 

"Show up," he said slowly, an underlying warning beneath his words, "and behave. Once you've decided who you want to marry out of them, let me know. We'll start the wedding preparations. Do you understand?" 

No. No, I didn't fucking understand how a man, how my own father, could be so ruthless and determined to ruin my life. 

"I understand," I whispered. 

Since that day, I'd spent the majority of my free time going from one blind date to another. 

I couldn't even understand where he found so many candidates because I simply refused to believe my father had any fucking friends. It was impossible for someone to like him. Even his business partners kept a safe distance from him. He went as far as putting his assistant on watch duty to ensure I kept my word, attended those dates, and behaved well. 

On the very first date I attended, the entire time I was waiting, my legs were shaking, and I was just waiting for an opportunity to jump and sprint out of the restaurant. 

Then he arrived... my so-called blind date. And, safe to say, I was surprised. Pleasantly. 

"Rose?" came an unfamiliar voice. 

Startled, I looked up from my phone at the empty seat across from me and then at the man standing just behind the chair. Blinking once, then twice, I stared at the man blankly. 

"Rose Chen?" he asked. 

I shook my head slowly, planning to say no, but found myself genuinely surprised by the man's appearance. "Yes," I finally said. 

He stared at me quizzically. "Is that a yes or no? You're shaking your head, but you're telling me something different," he laughed softly. 

"Yes," I laughed, rising to my feet, "yes, I'm Rose Chen. And you are?" 

"Nikolai Huang. You can call me Nick," he smiled, extending a hand to me. 

"Nick," I repeated, shaking it. My gaze traveled across his face, then quickly skimming over his attire. 

His features were simply... handsome. His hair was combed back neatly with a single strand, beautifully betraying that order to fall over his eyes while it was ever so slightly longer in the back. A pair of silver glasses sat on his gorgeously high nose bridge where a single beauty mark sat on the left of it. His lips were full, his jawline sharp, his suit crisply ironed. 

Oh, fuck me, the man was gorgeous. 

He seemed oddly familiar... he almost reminded me of someone, but I couldn't quite put my finger on who he resembled. 

"It's nice to meet you, Rose," he smiled as he held my gaze, slowly letting my hand slip from his as we took our seats. 

"Nice to meet you," I chuckled. 

"I haven't kept you waiting too long, have I? My meeting ran a bit late. I apologize." 

"No," I replied, "just... eighteen minutes." 

His brows lifted in amusement. "Have you been keeping track?" 

I hummed as I nodded. "Two more minutes, and you would have lost me. Twenty minutes is the cut-off." 

He grinned, "Remind me never to keep you waiting again." 

Not only was he charming, but the man truly had substance to him. We had plenty in common, including our Chinese background, and our conversation flowed; we saw eye on eye on most things, and even when we didn't, he respected my opinions. He convinced me that perhaps my father's choice wasn't the worst thing in the world. It was a blind date I genuinely enjoyed. 

And then Marshall happened... 

"I'm sorry, I have to run. They need me at work," I sighed, gathering my things as I stood. 

He let out a soft breath, rising with me. "This isn't punishment for making you wait eighteen minutes, is it?" he chuckled. 

"No, of course not," I laughed. 

He paused for a beat. "When will I see you again, Rose?" 

"Soon enough, Nick," I replied teasingly. 

Nick was the first of many blind dates, but unfortunately, he was also the last of the good ones because every goddamn date following that one was a miserable disaster. 

Date number two? I got stood up.

Date number three? I had red wine spilled on my white dress. 

Date number four? He had an allergic reaction to tomatoes. 

Date number five? He ran off. Quite literally. After ordering the most expensive dish and wine, stuffing himself, and then excusing himself to the bathroom, he simply left... leaving me with a hefty fucking bill. A bastard, that one. 

Date number six? His wig slipped off. Yes, his wig. I genuinely thought for a moment that instead of the son, the father himself had shown up. Safe to say, I was disturbed.

And now... date number seven. 

After the past six, my expectations and standards have fallen down into the pits of hell. All I wanted was for someone normal to show up, even if it meant sitting in the stillness of silence with them. 

As I walked into Nova for the billionth time that week, I rechecked the reservation details sent to me. Table number nine. 

This morning, I tried to get some information from my mother about who my date would be this time. She refused to tell me anything other than the fact that I should have high hopes for today. When I asked why, she went on a tangent about the auspicious nature of the number nine and the table that was booked for us. 

I counted the tables as I passed them and mumbled the numbers under my breath. As I neared table nine, I spotted a man already seated with his back facing my direction as he waited. My steps slowed. 

Why do I feel like I know the back of that head? 

Slowing down to a stop as I reached the table, I finally glanced down as I faced the man. I opened my mouth to introduce myself, but the moment my gaze landed on his face, my heart dropped to my stomach; it stopped beating; honestly, it might have gone into cardiac arrest. 

My eyes widened in shock. "No," I whispered, "no, no, no, you've got to be fucking kidding me." 

He remained still and watched me calmly, his head tilting slightly at my reaction. A beat passed, and he let out an amused scoff, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he turned away from me. "It's you," he concluded. 

"It's you?" I asked, utterly baffled. "You're the blind date?" I couldn't help but scoff. 

Alliance, my ass. 

A small smirk tugged at his lips as he ran a hand over his mouth, concealing his amusement as his eyes met mine. "Hello, love." 

Kai. Fucking. Warner. 

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Chapter 9

HERE WE FUCKING FINALLY GO.

next ch: brother

I PROMISE Y'ALL I'LL BE MORE REGULAR WITH MY UPDATES NOW (cuz I genuinely miss writing more often) <3