Why was I so hapless?
Staying up all night, obsessing over how to evade this arranged marriage, only to fumble through work the next day. What was the point? I couldn't focus on anything but the devastating weight of it all.
Refusing my father outright wasn't an option. My apartment, my credit cards—everything was under his control. If I defied him, I'd be left with nothing. Destitution wasn't a choice I could afford.
However, I paid the price of privilege by surrendering to my father's every demand.
If I truly wanted to break free, I'd have to leave. Walk away from everything, from my entire life, if I ever hoped to escape his iron grip.
My resolve to fix my predicament felt like a balloon drifting farther and farther out of reach, slipping through my fingers with every passing moment.
Standing in front of the restaurant where I was supposed to meet Kaleb, my chances of escape seemed non-existent.
The restaurant exuded an air of quiet luxury—exclusive, intimate. I couldn't deny it was an elegant setting for a proposal, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. Accepting it felt like a concession I wasn't ready to make.
Maybe I was merely overthinking this. The man I was stuck in the same miserable boat with was Kaleb Blackwell. And Kaleb hated me—there was no way he'd want to make me his wife. To him, even the air I breathed wasn't worth sharing, let alone a lifetime together—or the illusion of one.
For the first time, the thought of rejection felt like a gift. If he turned me down, that would be the end of it, right? No forced engagement, no looming wedding, no pretending.
With a shy sense of relief, I straightened my shoulders and steeled myself as I stepped into the restaurant.
I'd probably be lucky if Kaleb bothered to show up to reject the proposal in person. After all, this was just another greedy plot by our parents to expand their ever-growing empires. He had to feel just as resentful—no doubt seeing this as a pointless waste of his time.
Kaleb had to refuse our match. That was my only way out with no fallout or consequences. I'd be free.
But as the steward escorted me to the table, the sight of the man already seated there stopped me cold, stealing the breath from my lungs.
Why was he actually here?!
Surely, he wasn't planning to go through with this ridiculous charade. My pulse quickened, a sheen of sweat forming on my brow. The absurdity of that reality hit me hard as I remembered who he was—a powerful man filled with ruthless ambition. It made no sense.
Nevertheless, wouldn't it have been easier to send one of the countless people willing to jump at his command, rather than showing up himself?
"Excuse me, ma'am? This way, please," the steward's voice broke through my thoughts, snapping me back to the moment.
"Er, th-thank you," I stammered awkwardly, letting her guide me to my seat.
"You're late," Kaleb remarked coolly, his eyes sweeping over me calculatedly as I settled across from him. "I've already ordered. You shouldn't be allergic to anything on the menu, considering your family picked the restaurant."
A thin, forced smile tugged at my lips as I clenched my hands tightly beneath the table, hiding my irritation at his empty gesture. I wasn't allergic to anything, but I was definitely a picky eater.
Still, I let it go. It wasn't like I'd have time to enjoy the meal, and frankly, I had no appetite in his presence.
I also had no intention of apologizing for my lateness, especially since he had already begun his rudeness before we even met. He remained quiet as well.
The chatter of other patrons buzzed around us as I fidgeted with my stress rings, avoiding Kaleb's gaze like my life depended on it. This was supposed to be a five-star restaurant—what was taking them so long with the food?
The stiffness in the air was unbearable. Each second felt like it was dragging my anxiety higher, making me want to crawl out of my skin.
I couldn't take it anymore. "I think we should both agree to refus—"
"Are you uncomfortab—"
We both paused, startled, our eyes locking in a moment of mutual surprise. My breath shuddered from my chest, and I blinked hard. We had to be on the same page.
Shaking my head, I pointed a hesitant finger at him. "You go first."
"We should eat first. You need to relax, and then we can proceed with the engagement," Kaleb said.
Wait, I couldn't have heard that correctly.
"Huh?"
Kaleb fixed me with a steely look. "You do understand why we're here, don't you?" he demanded.
I gawked at him, utterly perplexed. This was not how things were meant to unfold. Why on earth would Kaleb Blackwell want to marry me? There had to be a glitch in the system, this couldn't be real.
I was too stunned to even feel despair at his revelation.
Why would he agree to this? Was he under pressure from his family as well? I quickly dismissed the thought. Everything Kaleb owned, he had built for himself, much to the chagrin of his equally arrogant father.
Then was this some kind of revenge? Had I done something so terrible that he was willing to sign away his freedom just to get back at me?
"There's a small problem," I began with a frown, wondering where I was going to go with that. But when I glanced up at Kaleb's questioning brow, my mind coiled.
"I'm pregnant!" I blurted out, my eyes squeezed shut.
What the fuck did I just say?