My pulse thudded in my throat as the car slowed before the mansion gates. Black iron scrollwork arched overhead, its shadow tracing dark patterns onto the gravel drive.

Through the tinted window, I caught glimpses of white stone pillars and lawns so perfectly trimmed they looked artificial. No breeze. No birds. Just a thick, heavy stillness that made me sit up straighter.

I folded my hands in my lap, fingers twitching but I laced them tighter, pressing the nerves back down where they belonged.

During the drive, Mother had only said we were dining with the Aldridges. A name dripping with old money and politics.

She didn't say why. She didn't need to.

Mother didn't do casual dinners, especially not with people like them. If we were here, it meant something. And knowing her, that something likely involved me.

What if this was it? The moment where I'd have to pick between what I wanted and what she expected?

That thought made my skin prickle. I wanted to run. But refusing her always felt like losing the only love I'd ever known.

Please... let me be wrong.

The car door clicked open. Mother stepped out first, her heels tapping clean notes into the gravel. Not a hint of hesitation or uncertainty.

She wore a navy suit, sharp at the shoulders and cinched at the waist. Her updo was flawless, not a strand out of place. Diamond earrings caught the last rays of the sun, flashing like small, cold stars.

Her face was calm. But I knew that gleam in her eyes and the smile that hovered just beneath the surface. It was the look she wore when something was being set in motion.

I followed her lead, back straightening instinctively. A habit ingrained from years of training under Mother's watchful eye.

Our heels clicked in rhythm. Mine, always a half-beat behind.

Everything you do reflects back on us, Desiree.

The memory of her words tightened around my chest like a corset.

So, I slipped into the mask she'd taught me to wear. The smile that gave nothing away. The one that promised everything was fine.

A man in a dark suit bowed and opened the double doors.

The scent of lemon polish curled into the air-conditioned foyer, mingling with the faint musk of old wood. Gleaming floors stretched out like mirrors, reflecting the chandelier's gold in trembling pools. Gold-paneled walls were lined with portraits and photographs.

One showed Walter Aldridge mid-speech at a podium, his face frozen in that faked sincerity politicians wore like cheap cologne.

I remembered him vaguely from a school event, something about youth leadership potential. Whatever that meant.

Next to his photo was a family portrait.

A woman seated elegantly on velvet chaise, hand resting on the shoulder of a smiling toddler. The little boy's round cheeks and glasses gave him a bookish charm. Walter Aldridge stood behind them.

Off to the side, a teenage boy stood just slightly apart.

Before I could study him longer, the real Aldridges stepped into view like they'd walked out of the frame.

"Eveline, so good to see you again," said Mrs. Aldridge, stepping forward with a gracious smile. Her blonde hair was pinned in a loose bun. Her husband followed, broad-shouldered and imposing in his tailored suit.

"Walter. Margaret, lovely as ever," Mother replied, then gestured to me. "This is my daughter, Desiree."

I stepped forward, flashing my best dimpled smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for having us."

Margaret's smile softened, her gaze sweeping over me like a jeweler inspecting a gem. "Even lovelier than we've heard. Please, just call me Marga."

"Thank you, Marga." I kept my tone warm, my posture flawless.

This was a dance I knew by heart.

Walter gave a polite nod, then glanced toward the staircase. "We apologize for our son's delay. Wallace will join us shortly. He's had a long day."

The name dropped like a pebble into a still pond.

Wallace. The name whispered around Fictus Academy since I'd transferred.

The notorious bad boy with a temper and a record. The one who was held back twice but still skipped classes, got into fights, and didn't care who he pissed off.

And yet, somehow, most girls I'd met at school seemed drawn to him like moths to flame. I never understood why.

I hadn't officially met him, even after three weeks at school.

I guess that changes tonight.

"No need to apologize," Mother said. "We're here to enjoy the evening."

We followed them into the dining room. Crystal glasses sparkled under gold lights. Silverware lined silk napkins. Nothing out of place.

This table wasn't set for comfort, but for control. Even the chandelier above seemed to glare down, light drilling into my spine.

I took my seat beside Mother, smoothing the napkin across my lap. My fingers twitched above the linen before I pressed them flat.

Then, I heard unhurried footsteps.

Still half-listening to the conversation, I glanced toward the door.

A second later, a boy entered without ceremony, his shirt rumpled and hair tousled. It was as if he'd either fought the wind on the way in or barely ducked out of trouble.

I almost expected a cigarette hanging from his lips and maybe a black eye. Something that fit the rumors.

Then he looked up and my breath caught.

I straightened without meaning to, brushing the napkin again to steady myself.

It's him.

The boy I bumped into on my first day at school.

He's... Wallace Aldridge?

I hadn't forgotten the heat in his glare that day.

And how, for the first time in my life, someone didn't seem interested in pleasing or impressing me. Instead, he treated me as if I was just some clumsy girl who'd gotten in his way. Like I was an inconvenience, not even worth a second glance.

Now here he was. And apparently, he was that bad boy. Huh...

He barely glanced at me, just a brief disinterested flick of the eyes and a raised brow. Then dropped into a chair beside his mother without a word or apology.

I saw the slight falter in Mother's smile. The crease between her brows.

My stomach turned.

Of all the political families... why this one?

I slid a hand into my purse, fingers finding the familiar small shape of a wrapped candy I'd stashed there. I rolled it between my fingers, letting its weight ground me as I watched him from the corner of my eye.

Wallace slouched in his chair, fingers tapping against the rim of his plate.

That same rhythm from that day when I handed him candies, only to be met with a blank stare.

Does he remember?

I schooled my face before the thought could rise in my expression, gripping the candy tighter. The edges pressed into my skin.

"Wallace," Walter said, voice low and stern. "You're late."

Wallace raised his glass and met his father's eyes. Then took the slowest, most disrespectful sip I'd ever seen. He didn't speak. Didn't blink.

I bit the inside of my cheek, suppressing the urge to laugh.

That level of audacity to pull that on his own parent? At a formal dinner with guests, no less.

Sheesh. Even Hamlet would've told him to tone it down.

"Eveline," Walter turned to Mother, recovering with the finesse of a career politician, "I don't believe you've met our eldest. He'll be applying to study political science. Carrying on the Aldridge tradition."

Wallace let out a soft, deliberate scoff that made Walter's smile tighten.

"He's got a bright future ahead," Walter said, full of fatherly pride. "With the right guidance, there's no limit to what he can achieve."

Wallace's fork hovered mid-air. He didn't move, just clenched his jaw.

You could feel the storm simmering under his silence, like he was biting down on a reply.

Margaret, seated quietly between them, shifted in her chair. Her fingers brushed the base of her wineglass. Her gaze flicked to her son, then quickly away. She didn't contradict her husband, but she didn't look proud, either.

"Desiree recently transferred to Fictus," Mother said, voice smooth as silk. "Perhaps they've met already."

Walter turned to me with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Ah, yes. I heard you were top of your class at your previous school. Remarkable." His gaze flicked toward Wallace with a shake of his head. "Maybe you could learn a thing or two from her. God knows you'll need all the help you can get if you want to graduate this year."

I took a sip of water, the cold sting at the back of my throat helping me hide a cough.

Erm... Wasn't he just glowing with fatherly pride a second ago? Now he's dragging Wallace like it's nothing.

Tough love? Or just plain twisted?

Praise, then poison. Sheesh.

Wallace stayed still, fork still raised, eyes locked on his plate. The fury behind his eyes was rising, like a lid pressed too tightly on a boiling pot.

Rumor was, he'd vanished for six months and only just come back. Some said he was living out in the dangerous parts of the city. No one knew why.

Now, I had a pretty strong guess.

Apparently, warmth wasn't part of the Aldridge household aesthetic.

Instead of a "welcome home", Wallace was paraded out at a formal dinner with strangers and expectations.

And I was part of the act.

Around us, conversation resumed as if nothing shady had polluted the air, picking up between the clink of cutlery and the scent of roasted meat.

I answered every question with practiced charm. Smiled where appropriate. Spoke with the poise I'd rehearsed in front of mirrors and cameras for years.

When Walter asked about my future plans, I gave him the answers Mother had approved.

When Margaret asked about Dream Catcher, I smiled and replied, "There's always something new to learn in business."

Mother nodded beside me. "She's always been focused."

The truth was irrelevant.

All that mattered was the image and being everything my mother needed me to be.

Beneath it all, a strange pressure gathered behind my ribs but I took a breath and held it there.

Halfway through the meal, Walter cleared his throat. "Wallace, you've met Desiree, haven't you?"

Wallace looked up and our eyes met.

"We've crossed paths," he said, flat as dry paper.

His eyes gave nothing away. But I caught the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth that vanished as fast as it appeared.

Walter beamed, just a touch too eagerly.

"Well," Walter went on, "you'll be seeing more of her. Eveline and I have reached an agreement. A partnership between our families would be mutually beneficial."

My fingers slackened around the fork, and before I could drop it, I set it lightly on the plate.

Beneath the table, my other hand curled protectively around the candy. The wrapper gave a soft crackle in my fist, the sound lost under the low hum of conversation.

Across from me, Wallace remained silent, glaring down at his plate with a deep scowl. His shoulders were visibly tense now, like he was barely holding himself together.

"We've decided it would be best for you and Desiree to marry," Walter said. "You'd make a perfect match, wouldn't you agree?"

Mother's gaze swept over me. She nodded calmly, like everything was perfectly in place.

"Indeed. To build something lasting, you need a foundation both sides can trust."

The words fell into place like a closing door. One that locked from the outside.

My hand felt cold and clammy. I focused on my breathing, steadying it as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

Mother didn't need alliances. Dream Catcher Entertainment had power, reach, influence. Whatever the Aldridges had, it wasn't something we lacked.

But it was never about lack, was it?

That glint in her eyes told me everything.

She wasn't just settling for an alliance. She was fifty steps ahead, playing a game only she knew the rules to.

Still, why him?

He wasn't just reckless. He was volatile. Unpolished. Unpredictable.

The kind of boy she used to call a liability. A mess I was never to clean up after.

So why now?

No matter how I turned it in my head, I kept coming back to the same truth. This was just another one of her productions.

A scene, a mask, a role. And I was expected to hit every mark without missing a line.

My pulse roared in my ears. My throat tightened. But I bit my lip to keep it all in.

When I looked up, my heart stuttered.

Wallace was already watching me.

Not with boredom this time, but something sharper. Like he saw past the mask and straight into the crack beneath it.

Our eyes locked for a beat too long. I looked away first, mask snapping back into place. Even from the corner of my eye, I caught him shaking his head before he let out a low, bitter laugh.

Then, without warning, his chair screeched back. The harsh sound sliced through the dining room, jarring everyone into silence.

"I'm not doing this. I'm not marrying anyone just because it's convenient for you." Wallace said, his voice cold and sharp.

Walter's face turned crimson instantly. "Wallace—!"

"I don't give a damn what kind of agreement you've made!" Wallace snapped. "I'm not your fucking prop, and I sure as hell ain't marrying some stranger to clean up your mess. Hard pass."

He tossed his napkin onto the table and stormed out. The front door slammed behind him, and I flinched before I could stop myself.

Silence followed. Just like that, he was gone.

My heart pounded as I squeezed the candy tighter. Its shape pressed into my palm, the foil folding under my grip.

He refused. Didn't hesitate. He just walked out free, defiant, unapologetic.

And for the first time, I wondered.

What if...

What if I can too?

𓇢𓆸

Thank you so much for reading!

I hope you enjoyed the first 2 chapters!

[Edited: 2,220 words]

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