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I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off. “And you’d better be careful about being seen with another man when you’re already promised to someone else.”
My heart races, though I keep my face neutral, willing myself to stay calm. “I wasn’t with another man.”
Mama gives me a pointed look but doesn’t push further and turns away. I take a deep breath and head upstairs. You’re already promised to someone else.
The mere thought of it makes me want to scream, but I force myself to remain composed.
After dressing, I make my way back downstairs to join my family for brunch. My brother and father are already there, seated in their usual spots in the breakfast nook. The familiar setting feels different today, some unspoken tension thick in the air.
Dimitri gives me a weary look and subtly points his head toward our father. I understand it: Baba isn’t in a great mood. I let out a breath.
I take my seat, trying to ignore the way my mother’s eyes linger on me.
Magdalena, our housekeeper, fills the table with a variety of foods that I start piling onto my plate.
We sit in silence, the only sound the clinking of cutlery and the occasional rustle of Baba’s newspaper. My father finally breaks the quiet, his voice steady but with an edge I can’t quite place.
“I spoke to your soon-to-be fiancé,” he says, looking directly at me.
I freeze, my fork halfway to my mouth. The room seems to shrink around me as I meet his gaze, heart pounding in my chest.
I swallow down my food. “What did he say?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm and even.
He takes a sip of his coffee. “We’re making arrangements for you to meet soon.”
My throat constricts. I pick up my glass of orange juice and take a large gulp.
My father sets his newspaper down, folding it neatly before placing it beside his plate. “I’m concerned.”
I force myself to maintain eye contact. To my side, Dimitri shifts in his seat, sensing impending chaos, and picks up his phone as a distraction.
The urge to get up and run out of the kitchen—out of the house, far away from here—is strong.
“Concerned about what?”
“About your commitment, Aria,” Baba replies, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. Does he suspect that I was with another man, too? Shit. I hope my mother didn’t say anything.
I feel her stare on me, her earlier suspicions hanging in the air.
“I’m committed,” I reply with as much conviction as I can muster.
My father leans back in his chair, studying me with a critical eye. “I hope so.” He picks up his coffee again, taking another measured sip before setting it down. “This marriage is important, Aria. We’ve worked hard to build what we have, and this alliance will secure our place for generations.” What the hell does he mean by we? Last time I checked, I was not involved in this arrangement.
A surge of frustration and defiance rises within me. “But what about what I want? Don’t I get a say in my own life?”
His eyes flash with irritation. “You need to understand the bigger picture. We have responsibilities and traditions.”
I lean forward. “But it’s my life. I should get to choose who I spend it with.”
He sets his cup down with a loud clatter, his jaw tightening. “You think I don’t understand that? You think I haven’t made sacrifices for this family? We all have to make choices we don’t like. That’s part of growing up.” I look away, blinking back tears as he continues. “Happiness isn’t always about getting what you want. Sometimes it’s about doing what’s right.”
I exhale. “Fine,” I relent. I love my father, and I want to make him proud, despite the tight leash around my neck.
Silence falls over us again, heavier than before. I look down at my plate, my appetite gone.
Dimitri clears his throat, trying to lighten the mood. “So, Riri, any plans for today?”
I glance at him, grateful for the distraction. “I thought I’d spend some time in the studio,” I say, forcing a smile. “I have a few projects I want to work on.”
