I drive the red convertible along the familiar road to my parents' mansion—and for the first time today, my breathing evens out.
The conversation with Christian feels like a stone lifted from my chest. Not everything is lost. There's a loophole. There's a move.
Maybe even several.
I turn into the driveway, and the scene that greets me feels almost theatrical:
my father, Edward, and my mother, Evelyn, come out to meet me as if I've returned not from a Saturday date, but from the front lines.
"André!"
Mom rushes toward me and hugs me so tightly it's as if I've just saved the world.
I barely manage not to flinch.
Father shakes my hand, looking pleased, appraising—like a man inspecting a profitable deal.
"Well, hero," he says. "Welcome back."
I smile. Wide. Correct.
Play the part. For now—play it.
We walk together to the dining table. A pristine white tablecloth, silverware, crystal—everything as always, perfect and soulless. The staff begins serving the courses, and Mom can't contain herself.
"Don't torture us, André!" Evelyn says excitedly, almost girlish. "How did it go?"
She looks at me as if she's expecting scandalous details, not a son's report.
"Did Sofia like the gift?"
I lift my chin, pause—timing matters.
"Sofia was delighted," I say confidently. "The pendant, Mom, completely melted her heart."
Edward nods with satisfaction.
"Well done, son. Just like me."
I notice Evelyn's eyebrow lift—an instant, nearly invisible gesture.
But I see it.
Mother isn't as simple as she looks.
"She wants a wedding now, Father," I add in the same victorious tone.
Inside—ice.
How do I get rid of her?
"Then I'll speak with the Blackmore family," Edward says calmly. "We'll set a date."
As if he's doing me a favor.
Evelyn takes my hand.
"Congratulations, darling."
And inside me, anger rises. Heavy. Muffled.
How do I break free from this grip?
"May I ask, Father," I say casually, "why are you so invested in my marriage to Sofia?"
He doesn't answer right away.
"I've already told you. It will secure your future."
"But isn't my future," I look him straight in the eye, "already secured by your fortune?"
And that's when I see it.
A shadow of fear.
Tiny. But real.
"One doesn't interfere with the other," he replies too quickly. "Besides, you and Sofia get along so well."
Get along, I repeat to myself. Interesting choice of words.
What are you hiding from me, Father?
I pretend to accept the answer and move to the next step.
"Father," I say more calmly, "my friend Christian asked me to arrange an internship at our company, Solaris Dominion Group, for his friend. Victoria Montreux."
Edward leans back in his chair.
"Your friend Christian," he says with a note of respect, "is older than you and very independent. He achieves everything on his own."
A pause.
"Just like I once did."
I hear the reproach in it—and swallow it.
"Let her come visit us. With Victoria," he continues. "I'll see where she might fit."
I nod, careful not to show my relief.
Perfect, Daddy, I think.
If Victoria charms you…
The thought flashes—bright and dangerous.
…then maybe there won't be a wedding with Sofia after all.
I smile, cut my meat, keep up the conversation—and already start making plans.
Careful ones. Multi-step ones.
Because if I don't outplay this game now—
the next move will be made for me.
**
Giselle darts around the room like a bee that's lost its sense of direction.
From the bed to the closet.
From the closet to the mirror.
From the mirror—back to me.
"Maybe I should wear this top with the skirt?" she freezes mid-motion, holding the clothes against her slim body and turning as if she's already on a runway.
I tear myself away from my textbooks and slowly lift my gaze.
"Yes. Great choice," I say as neutrally as possible. "Put it on."
Please, just wear something and stop, I think, dropping my eyes back to my notes. My head is already buzzing with formulas and terms, and today Giselle feels like a separate final exam.
But of course, the universe decides that calm is unnecessary.
My phone vibrates.
I glance at the screen—and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
Christian Grayson.
A shiver runs down my spine.
That same one. From the Angel Club.
Tall. Controlled. Dangerously confident.
I honestly didn't expect him to call.
"I'm listening, Christian," I say, forcing my voice to stay even.
"You remember me, Victoria?" His voice is low, firm, not so much a question as a statement.
How could I forget you…
"I have a proposal for you."
That familiar numbness blooms low in my stomach. Foolish. Traitorous.
A date? the thought flashes. Or something even more dangerous?
"I'd like you to come with me to meet my friend, Andre Cortland," he continues. "If you demonstrate your professional skills to his father, Edward, he'll take you on as an intern at Solaris Dominion Group."
A pause.
"Real experience. A career. A chance. Are you in?"
I pause. Longer than necessary. As if I'm weighing it.
In truth, I've already decided.
"Of course," I say calmly. "I'm in."
"Good. I'll call you back," he says—and hangs up.
I stare at the screen for a few more seconds.
"What did you just agree to?" Giselle explodes with curiosity, flying over to me.
"Oh, nothing," I shrug. "A job offer."
"You liar," she squints at me. "Look at yourself. Your cheeks are red."
I look away.
Nothing gets past Giselle.
"Confess," she leans in closer. "Who is he?"
A pause.
"Christian Grayson? You remember… the Angel Club?"
"Ohhh," she sighs theatrically. "So that's how it is. You're in love."
She gives me a light smack on the shoulder.
"You're in trouble, my friend."
I smile—but inside, there's a storm.
Will I really be able to think about work around Christian, with all that controlled masculinity?
Or is this offer about to change much more than my career?
I pick up my textbook again—and realize I can't see the lines anymore.
Because now, all my thoughts are drifting somewhere else entirely.