I stood with my hands on my hips, my freshly curled blonde hair cascading over my shoulders. I forced myself not to slam the desk in front of me, knowing it would ruin my blue and pink coquette nails.
But my father's words were infuriating enough to make me want to lash out.
"What?" I asked, feigning innocence as if I hadn't heard him. I had heard every word, but I wanted him to repeat it—if he dared.
My father, with his own head of blonde hair now streaked with silver, looked ready to burst with frustration. I seemed to have a special talent for raising his blood pressure.
But I wasn't exactly keeping mine in check either.
"Ana, sit down first-"
"No, tell me what you were going to say. Who am I supposed to marry?"
He winced and sighed. "The eldest son of the Romanovs-"
"My ex-fiancé who called off our engagement," I interrupted, my voice sharp.
Just thinking about Alexei and the way he humiliated me by breaking off our engagement still burned with anger. It was a matter of pride, damn it.
My father's face tightened as he struggled to regain his composure. "Yes, Alexei Romanov. I know it's been six years, but-"
"Six years, and it's like nothing has changed!" I snapped. "How dare he have the audacity to come back into my life after what he did?"
He rubbed his temples, clearly exasperated. "Ana, this isn't about the past. This is about what's best for our family. The Romanovs are influential, and this marriage could benefit us significantly."
I crossed my arms, my anger flaring. "So I'm just a pawn in your game? My feelings don't matter?"
My father's gaze softened, but his frustration remained. "It's not about that. It's about securing our future. Alexei's family-"
"Alexei's family doesn't get to dictate my future!" I cut him off, my voice trembling with a mix of rage and hurt. "I won't be forced into a marriage with someone who made me feel worthless."
He took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his patience. "This isn't just about you, Ana. It's about everyone. Please, just give it a chance."
"No!"
"Anastasia Sokolov!" My father slammed the desk, causing me to flinch, but I stood my ground.
"Father!"
"Listen to me this once, Ana. He's the best option we have. At least meet with him and see if he's still the man you remember."
"Oh, I have no doubt he's still the same jerk I remember."
My father, Ivan, bristled and glared at me. "Shut your mouth! Listen to me without interrupting!"
I stood my ground, my heart racing. "I'm not meeting him, Father. I refuse to be dragged back into that nightmare."
My father's eyes narrowed, his frustration evident. "Ana, this is a serious matter. You need to consider the consequences."
"I've considered them!" I shot back, my voice steady.
With a final, resolute glance, I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving my father by the desk. His frustration was palpable, but his ability to sway me had clearly diminished.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Funny how my rejection ended up being in vain. My father, Ivan, resorted to threatening my career to get his way.
As a designer, I've carved out my own normal life, separate from the family name, but it seems I can't escape my blood ties. I wish "blood is thicker than water" were just a cliché so I could escape this trap.
Dressed in a white knee-length dress, which my mother insisted would highlight my "angelic" side—a notion I doubted—I prepared to face this farce.
When Alexei arrived with his father, Felix, to our residence, my immediate reaction was to turn my face away from his undeniably handsome features. What's the point in meeting him? He called off our engagement once; I had no faith he wouldn't do it again.
Standing well over six feet three inches, Alexei was strikingly tall and broad-shouldered. His Italian suit did little to conceal his toned physique. His dark brown eyes, dark hair, chiseled jawline, and perfect nose were all too handsome, too infuriating.
Fucking Alexei Felixovich Romanov. I'll make him regret the day he ever walked back into my life.
My green eyes kept darting away from him, hoping he'd take the hint and leave me alone. I was disgusted.
I barely registered the conversation between my father and Felix, or how my mother smiled like the perfect trophy she was.
I never wanted to be her-just a trophy. I wanted to make something of my life, but with the Sokolov name, I felt trapped. And if I were to take the Romanov name, I was certain it would only get worse.
I followed them toward the dining room, cursing the dinner that awaited. Felix and Ivan led the way, while my mother clung to Alexei's arm, chatting with him as if they were old friends.
Hello? Did anyone remember that he's the one who called off our engagement six years ago?
Apparently not.
Trailing at the back, I had no real desire to follow them. Every few steps, I considered slipping away and running from this entire farce.
"Oh, Ana, why are you walking behind?" My mother's sweet voice made me shudder.
Not again. I really didn't want this.
"Come here," she said, taking my arm and positioning me next to Alexei. He was so tall it felt like he might use his height to overshadow me entirely.
"I'll go check on the kitchen. Hopefully, there are no problems!" My mother giggled, leaving me standing side by side with Alexei.
This was incredibly awkward. I glanced at him with a blank expression, offering no smile-just a look of disinterest.
As we entered the dining room, the soft glow of the chandelier cast a warm light over the elegant setting. The table was beautifully arranged, but my focus was on Alexei, who remained beside me.
With practiced grace, Alexei pulled out a chair for me. "Please, sit," he said, his voice smooth and courteous.
I hesitated for a moment, then took the seat, feeling the weight of his gesture and my own reluctance. He slid the chair back in gently after I was seated, his touch surprisingly considerate.
I looked up at him, still trying to mask my disdain. "Thank you," I muttered, though the words felt hollow. Alexei's polite demeanor contrasted sharply with the storm of emotions churning inside me.
After Alexei took his seat beside me, everything seemed to blur as we began to eat. I forced myself to pretend to enjoy the steak, even though I had no taste for it. I was on a healthy diet, committed to maintaining my perfect body.
Damn the food, damn this meeting, damn the arrangement, and damn Alexei. The whole situation was a farce I had no intention of accepting.
I left half of my steak untouched, planning to tell the maids to clear it away later. I set down my cutlery, noting that the conversation between my father and Felix had become more relaxed, but of course, they remained delusional about my marriage to Alexei.
I glanced at him, trying to gauge his emotions. He was unnervingly calm. Was he happy about this arrangement? I doubted it. I knew he had been married before, which was why he had called off our engagement in the first place.
His previous wife had passed away, and now I was being thrust into the role of his new wife. It felt like a cruel joke.
When our eyes met, I glared at him, silently conveying, "Fuck you."
I expected his jaw to tighten, his eyes to darken with annoyance and anger. But no. Instead, his lips curled into a smirk. He tilted his head slightly and mouthed, "All yours."
Then, leaning closer, he whispered, "So you prefer to fuck me before the wedding?"
The audacity of it all made my blood boil. What a fucking bastard!