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𝟬𝟯| The Arranged Marriage

DESIREE

The black sedan slowed to a stop outside the grand Aldridge mansion. Its tall marble pillars and sprawling manicured lawns extended far beyond what the eye could see, the very image of wealth and power. But beneath the grandeur, I sensed a cold emptiness, a hollowness masked by all the luxury. The familiar feeling that clung to places like this.

I sat in the back seat, my hands resting primly on my lap, even though my fingers itched to fidget. I resisted the urge, reminding myself that I had to remain calm and composed.

Mother was the first to step out, her heels clicking sharply against the gravel driveway. She was dressed impeccably, as always, in a tailored navy suit that spoke of both power and precision. Her hair was swept into an elegant updo, revealing a set of diamond earrings that glinted in the fading evening light. Her expression was calm, and composed, with a hint of sharpness in her eyes, an attitude she always carried, especially when there was a deal to be made.

I stepped out of the car, the gravel crunching softly beneath my heels as I followed my mother's lead. I straightened my posture, a habit ingrained from years of training under Mother's watchful eye. A smile settled easily on my lips, the one that reassured everyone that everything was as it should be. That nothing was wrong.

I didn't know the real reason for this dinner yet, but it wasn't hard to guess. My mother wouldn't waste her time with idle socializing. This is probably a business. If we were here, there was a purpose behind it, and that purpose likely involved me. This wasn't just another dinner. I could feel it.

But I had to play my part. That's all this is, I reminded myself. Another task to complete.

As we approached the grand entrance, something Mother used to tell me drifted into my mind. "Remember, Desiree, everything you do reflects back on us." That was the mantra she lived by. And that was why I had to play my part, no matter what.

Whatever tonight held, I would handle it. Like I always did.

A man in a formal suit greeted us at the door and led us through the mansion's vast halls. The inside was as grand as the outside, marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of chandeliers, and rich, dark wood paneling lined the walls. Everything about this place screamed wealth, power, and control. A world where appearances were everything, where every move was calculated, every word measured.

"Eveline, so wonderful to see you again." Mrs. Aldridge's voice cut through my thoughts as we entered the foyer. She was tall and elegant, her blonde hair pulled into a neat bun, her face frozen in a polite smile. Beside her stood Mr. Aldridge, a broad-shouldered man with a commanding presence. His suit was impeccable, and his handshake was firm when he greeted my mother.

"Thomas, Margaret," my mother replied with the same practiced warmth she always used at these events. "It's lovely to see you both."

She turned to me, her eyes sharp with expectation. "This is my daughter, Desiree."

I met their gazes with my polished smile, extending my hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Aldridge. Thank you for having us."

"Ah, Desiree." Mrs. Aldridge smiled warmly, her eyes sweeping over me. "You're even lovelier in person. Thomas and I have heard so much about you. Please, call us Margaret and Thomas."

"Thank you, Margaret." It was the same pleasant exchange I'd had at countless dinners like this, polite, effortless, and hollow. The kind of conversation that felt like theater, where everyone played their roles to perfection but nothing was ever real.

"Well, we apologize for our son's tardiness," Mr. Aldridge said, his voice thick with authority, glancing toward the grand staircase. "Wallace should be joining us shortly. He's had a rather long day, I'm afraid."

"No need to apologize," Mom said, her tone casual but firm. "We're here to enjoy the evening."

We were led into the dining room, where a long mahogany table stretched across the center, set with crystal glasses and gleaming silverware. The chandeliers cast a warm glow over everything, creating a picture of elegance and sophistication.

As we took our seats, the young Aldridge finally appeared. He walked in with a disheveled yet sharp air, his shirt slightly untucked, his hair tousled like he'd just woken up or been in a fight. The room stilled for a moment, and I saw the slight crease of disapproval in Mother's brow. Wallace, however, didn't seem to care. His gaze flicked across the table, settling on me for only a moment before he took his seat, offering no apologies for his tardiness.

I observed him in silence, a knot forming in my stomach. Wallace was reckless, emotional, and unpredictable. The kind of person who did as he pleased without worrying about consequences or expectations. A luxury I could never afford.

For a fleeting moment, I wondered what it must be like to have that kind of freedom. To walk into a room without caring how your actions might reflect on your family or affect your future. To say no when you wanted to, to refuse the roles others imposed on you.

But that wasn't the world I lived in.

"Wallace," his father's voice cut through the haze, "you're late."

They introduced their son to us but I could barely hear the rest as my thoughts kept drifting. This dinner was about something else, something I could feel tightening around me like a noose.

I sat between my mother and Mrs. Aldridge, silently observing the room. The tension in the air was palpable, but I masked my unease with the same grace I'd been taught since I was a child.

As the meal was served, the conversation naturally turned toward me. It always did.

"So, Desiree," Mr. Aldridge began, cutting into his steak. "We heard that you're quite the student. One more year and you're finishing high school soon, correct? What are your plans for college?"

I'd been asked this question hundreds of times, and I'd long mastered my response. "I'm looking at several options, but I haven't made a final decision yet," I replied smoothly.

Mr. Aldridge leaned in slightly, his interest piqued. "And what about after college? Have you thought about what you'd like to pursue?"

For the briefest second, a flash of something stirred deep inside, an old, buried dream. But it vanished as quickly as it came. I gave the answer I was expected to give.

"My focus will likely be business administration, to help with the family business."

Mom nodded approvingly beside me. That was the answer she expected. It was the right answer, the one that kept everything in line, everything controlled.

"And Dream Catcher," Mrs. Aldridge said. "You must be learning so much from your mother's company."

I smiled, keeping any trace of emotion from my voice. "Yes, there's always something new to learn in business."

The truth was irrelevant. All that mattered was maintaining the right image. I was focused, successful, everything my mother needed me to be.

Mom chimed in. "She's always been focused on her academics. I have no doubt she'll make the right choice."

As the conversation carried on, I answered every question with ease, laughed at the appropriate moments, and smiled when needed. I was performing well.

Yet beneath it all, there was a simmering unease I couldn't quite shake.

What was the real reason for this? My mother didn't need me to marry into a political family to secure more wealth or power. Dream Catcher Entertainment was already thriving. So why...? Why now? Why this? Mother had always controlled every aspect of my life, molding me into a perfect, unfeeling heir. But marriage? Why would she push me into this now, and with a politician's son?

"You must be excited, Desiree," Mr. Aldridge said, smiling over the rim of his glass. "I hear your mother has big plans for your future in the company."

I returned his smile with one of my own, polite and pleasant, just like I'd been taught. "Yes, sir. I look forward to continuing the family legacy."

The words came out smoothly, rehearsed over and over in front of mirrors and cameras. They sounded right, but they felt hollow. I knew they were what Mother wanted to hear. What they all wanted to hear.

But deep down? Deep down, the real me felt buried, suffocated under the weight of all these expectations.

I pushed that thought away. This is the life I was meant to live. The life Mother has planned for me.

Then, in the middle of the meal, Mr. Aldridge cleared his throat. The shift in the atmosphere was almost tangible.

"Wallace," he said, turning to his son. "You've met Desiree Hart, haven't you?"

Wallace's eyes briefly darted toward me as I sat across from him at the table.

"We've crossed paths," he said flatly, his expression suggesting he couldn't care less.

"Well, you'll be seeing more of her," his father continued, ignoring the tension in his son's voice. "Eveline and I have come to an agreement. We believe a partnership between our families would be mutually beneficial."

My grip on the fork tightened, though my expression didn't waver. I already knew where this was headed. I'd known from the moment we stepped foot in this mansion. I glanced across the table at Wallace, who hadn't said a word the entire evening. He sat stiffly, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with an emotion I couldn't place...anger? Resentment?

"We've decided," Mr. Aldridge continued, "that it would be in everyone's best interest for Wallace and Desiree to marry."

Mother's gaze flicked to me briefly before returning to Mr. Aldridge. "Indeed, we've thought long and hard about this. I believe a formal union between our families is the best way forward."

The words hung in the air, but I didn't flinch. I sat there, perfectly composed, as if I hadn't just been informed of my future. This was just another step in my mother's plan. Marriage was never something I had wanted, but that didn't matter. My wants didn't matter. I would do what was required of me. Play my role to perfection, as I always had.

"So," Thomas said, turning his attention back to Wallace, "what do you think? It's a perfect match, isn't it?"

Wallace's chair scraped against the floor suddenly, the loud sound jarring everyone at the table.

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

His father's face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Wallace—"

"I don't care what kind of 'arrangement' you've made. I'm not marrying her."

Without another word, he stormed out of the room, leaving behind a trail of stunned silence. The adults scrambled to recover, their words hollow, as if trying to pretend the outburst hadn't happened.

I remained composed, my smile never faltering even as everything inside me churned. The proposal. Wallace's refusal. The tension. This was my future unraveling right before my eyes, and yet I had no choice but to sit here and pretend like it didn't matter. Like I wasn't the one being rejected.

Freedom to say no. Freedom to leave. Wallace had it, he took it. And I?

I sat there, perfectly composed, still playing my part. Still the perfect daughter. Still obedient.

Mother glanced at me from the corner of her eye, a silent test of my reaction. I didn't give her anything. My hands were steady, my face smooth, my heart... well, that was another matter.

This was my life. This was my role.

Yet, as I sat there, I couldn't help but wonder what Wallace had just thrown away. And whether I would ever be allowed to make such a choice.

I couldn't afford to think like that, though. Not here. Not now. I had too much to lose.

I took a sip of water, keeping my gaze steady.

This was just another obstacle. I'd faced many before, and I would face many more. I was my mother's daughter, after all. There was always a way forward.


๋࣭ °࣪ ִ⭑․𓃠⭒˚.• ݁


The drive back to the family estate was quiet. Darkness stretched across the city like a velvet cloak, the neon glow of streetlights flickering against the rain-slicked roads. The reflections danced across the car windows, warping and distorting like fleeting ghosts, yet they only deepened the shadows pressing in on me.

Mother had returned to her office. Of course, she had. Business was her sanctuary, her kingdom, her everything.

And me? I was just another extension of that empire, molded and polished like the rest of her possessions. But even the finest sculptures cracked with time.

The mansion loomed in the distance, its silhouette cutting against the night sky like a darkened monolith. When the car pulled up to the grand entrance, the headlights briefly illuminated the towering pillars and the garden hedges manicured to perfection, just like everything else in this place.

Stepping inside, the scent of polished mahogany and fresh-cut roses curled around me, cloying and overbearing. The foyer gleamed under the chandelier's golden light, its brilliance failing to warm the sterile air. Everything was in its proper place, the pristine marble floors, the ornate vases standing like silent sentinels, the oil paintings gazing down with hollow, lifeless eyes.

A museum, not a home.

My heels clicked softly against the marble, the sound swallowed almost instantly by the oppressive quiet.

No voices. No warmth. No sign of life beyond the carefully curated decor.

I slipped off my heels, the cool floor sending a shiver up my spine as I moved toward the grand staircase. My reflection shimmered in the polished marble, a fragmented version of myself trailing behind, distorted and unfamiliar. The sight unsettled me.

By the time I reached my room, my limbs felt heavier, as though the weight of the evening had seeped into my very bones.

I shut the door with a quiet click and pressed my back against it, exhaling slowly. The exhaustion didn't just cling to my body—it settled in my mind, thick and suffocating.

A hollow laugh escaped my lips, barely above a whisper. It didn't sound like me.

I turned toward the mirror in the dimly lit hallway, and for a fleeting second, I hesitated before stepping closer. My reflection stared back—poised, collected, untouchable. But my eyes betrayed me. They were tired. Guarded. Trapped.

My fingers ghosted over the cold surface of the mirror.

What if there was another way forward? What if I didn't have to be the perfect daughter, the perfect heir?

The thought was dangerous. Reckless. Impossible.

Yet, it refused to leave me.


𓇢𓆸

Hey lovables!

What did you think of this chapter? The tension at the Aldridge dinner was intense, right? I can't wait to hear your thoughts!

And for those of you who prefer lurking in the shadows like me, just soak it all in and enjoy the ride. I'm happy to have you here!

Thank you so much for reading loves~♡

ᴍᴇʟᴏᴅʏꜱʜʜʜ

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