As Tyron and I walked away from the shoot, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping in. The high from the successful photo session was quickly fading, replaced by the anxiety of the upcoming dinner with my future in-laws. Tyron glanced over at me, noticing my expression.
"Are you not happy about the shoot?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.
"It was great," I replied, trying to muster a smile. "But now I have to go meet my future in-laws."
Tyron looked surprised. "Is that so? Don't you love your boyfriend?"
I sighed heavily. "He's not my boyfriend. My mom wants me to marry him, but I don't want that." Memories of my former life flashed before my eyes, where I'd suffered in silence while Daniel didn't even care for me. The thought of being trapped in that situation again made my stomach churn.
"That's bad. Do I have to kidnap you?" Tyron said, his tone lightening in an attempt to cheer me up.
I couldn't help but laugh hard at his ridiculous suggestion. "Stop saying nonsense, Tyron," I said, chuckling.
Before long, we reached my house, a modest, small home that contrasted sharply with the luxurious settings of the photoshoot. Tyron looked at me with a mischievous grin. "You know I can still kidnap you right now," he said, winking.
"See you tomorrow," I replied, giving him a grateful smile before heading to the front door. Tyron was so funny and a great friend, and his humor was exactly what I needed at that moment.
As I stepped inside, the familiar scents of my mother's cooking filled the air. It was a rare sight to see my mother actually in the kitchen, and my sister Clara setting the table was even more surprising. They were putting on quite the show for Daniel and his parents.
My mother turned to me with a look of mild irritation. "Can you help us? You're late, and it's already night. Your in-laws are going to be here in a few minutes. Go get ready. I put a dress on your bed; please wear it."
I rolled my eyes and headed to my room. There, lying neatly on my bed, was a black dress. It was elegant but not overly formal—a knee-length dress with a fitted waist, three-quarter sleeves, and a modest V-neckline. The fabric was soft and slightly shimmery, catching the light in a way that added a touch of sophistication without being too flashy.
I decided to take a long, hot shower first, hoping it would wash away some of the stress and tension. As the water cascaded over me, I let myself relax for a few precious minutes, thinking about the photoshoot and how it had felt to be in front of the camera. It was a stark contrast to the suffocating reality waiting for me downstairs.
After my shower, I put on the black dress and took extra care with my hair, blow-drying it and then styling it into soft, loose waves. I applied minimal makeup, just enough to enhance my features without looking too done up.
Staring at my reflection, I felt a surge of defiance. "What should I do now?" I muttered to myself. I'd always been the nice kid, the obedient one, but maybe tonight I should change that. Maybe if I acted spoiled and bratty, Daniel would lose interest in me. It was worth a shot.
"Let's act like a spoiled brat tonight," I said with a smirk, feeling a newfound sense of determination. This was my chance to turn the tables and take control of my own fate.
With that thought in mind, I squared my shoulders and headed downstairs, ready to face whatever lay ahead with a bold, new attitude.
As I descended the stairs, I heard the sound of voices drifting from the dining room. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the encounter.
The sight that greeted me was quite a spectacle: my mother was bustling around the kitchen with an exaggerated sense of purpose, and Clara, who had clearly put in extra effort, looked stunning in a figure-hugging red dress.
Her makeup was flawless, and her hair was styled in loose curls. She was already seated at the table, chatting animatedly with Daniel and his parents.
Daniel was as I remembered him: tall and handsome, with meticulously styled brown hair and sharp blue eyes. He wore an expensive tailored suit that screamed wealth and sophistication.
His parents matched his appearance—his mother was elegant, with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and a string of pearls around her neck, while his father exuded power in his bespoke suit and gold cufflinks.
"Elena, finally," my mother said with a forced smile, trying to hide her annoyance. "Come, sit down. Our guests are here."
I walked over to the table, my eyes scanning the room with deliberate casualness. "Nice to see you, Daniel," I said, giving him a tight-lipped smile. Then, turning to his parents, I added, "Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, it's a pleasure."
They nodded politely, though Mrs. Thompson's gaze seemed to linger a bit too long, perhaps assessing my worthiness.
"Elena, you look lovely," Daniel said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He seemed distracted, his gaze flickering occasionally to Clara, who was doing her best to draw his attention. She leaned in closer to him, laughing at something he said, her hand brushing his arm lightly.
"Thank you," I replied coolly, taking my seat. I glanced at Clara, who shot me a triumphant look. It was clear she was enjoying the attention.
Dinner began, and the conversation flowed smoothly. My mother was in her element, playing the gracious hostess. I, on the other hand, decided it was time to start my plan.
"So, Daniel," I began, interrupting the pleasant conversation. "How's business going? Still taking over companies and firing people left and right?" My tone was intentionally provocative.
Daniel's smile faltered for a second before he regained his composure. "Business is doing well, Elena. We're expanding rapidly, which means some tough decisions have to be made. It's all part of growth."
"Growth at the expense of others," I muttered, just loud enough for everyone to hear.
My mother shot me a warning look. "Elena, that's enough. We are here to enjoy dinner, not to discuss business ethics."
I rolled my eyes. "Right, because avoiding important topics is the best way to handle them."
There was an uncomfortable silence before Clara piped up, her voice saccharine sweet. "Daniel, I think what you're doing is impressive. It takes a lot of courage and intelligence to manage such a large company."
Daniel smiled appreciatively at Clara, clearly pleased by her flattery. "Thank you, Clara. It's nice to be understood."
I could barely contain my annoyance. Instead, I reached for the pitcher of water, filling my glass deliberately. As I lifted it to my lips, I 'accidentally' tipped it over, pouring the water directly into Daniel's lap.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, feigning shock. "How clumsy of me!"
Daniel jumped up, trying to brush the water off his expensive trousers, his face a mix of irritation and embarrassment. "It's fine, Elena," he said tightly, though his eyes betrayed his frustration.
My mother looked mortified. "Elena! How could you be so careless?" she scolded.
I shrugged nonchalantly. "It was an accident. These things happen."
Daniel's mother looked at me disapprovingly, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Perhaps a little more care next time, dear," she said icily.
Clara, ever the opportunist, jumped up to help Daniel, her hand resting a bit too comfortably on his shoulder. "Here, let me get you a towel," she offered, her voice dripping with concern.
I leaned back in my chair, smirking inwardly. "Sorry again, Daniel," I said, not sounding sorry at all. This dinner was turning out exactly as I had hoped. The more rebellious and spoiled I behaved, the less appealing I hoped I would become to Daniel and his family.
As Clara fussed over Daniel, I caught a glimpse of my mother's face, a mix of anger and desperation. Good, I thought. Maybe now they'll understand that I'm not going to be the obedient little daughter they can marry off as they please.
"Elena," my mother hissed quietly, leaning over to me. "You are embarrassing us. Apologize properly."
I met her gaze evenly. "I already did, Mom. Maybe you should pay more attention."
Her eyes widened in shock at my defiance, but I held my ground. Tonight, I was going to be anything but the perfect daughter.