You'd think being the youngest daughter of the Alcove family would come with perks. It does, in some ways.
I mean, how many people can say they've ridden in a private jet to Paris just because they wanted authentic croissants? Or that they own more designer shoes than they have outfits? Spoiler alert—more than you'd think.
But none of that matters when your love life is under constant surveillance by four overprotective brothers who seem to think I'm still twelve. And worse, they all have their own… methods of keeping me single.
Take Marcus, for instance. Marcus is the eldest of the Alcoves, and if there's one thing to know about him, it's that he treats everything like a business. Including my love life.
Imagine my horror when, two weeks ago, I found out Marcus had scheduled a "meeting" with the guy I'd been casually texting for two weeks.
It started innocently enough—a message from Marcus—
'Dinner with you and Charles at 7 p.m. Sharp. Boardroom attire suggested.'
Dinner? I thought. Maybe Marcus is finally warming up to the idea that I can make my own decisions. Oh, how naive I was.
When Charles and I arrived at our family's mansion, Marcus wasn't waiting in the dining room like a normal person.
No, no.
He led us to the actual boardroom, where he conducts high-profile business deals. The long mahogany table gleamed under the lights, and a projection screen flickered on one wall.
My stomach dropped.
Marcus stood at the head of the table, adjusting his suit jacket like we were about to pitch him a million-dollar idea.
Charles, looked utterly confused. "Uh, is this... dinner?"
I elbowed him lightly. "Just... go with it."
We sat down, and Marcus immediately launched into what can only be described as a pre-date financial interrogation. He opened a sleek laptop and pulled up an Excel sheet with a hundred different tabs. A hundred. This was going to be painful.
"Let's begin," Marcus said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with an air of authority that made Charles shift uncomfortably in his chair. "Charles, I've done a preliminary review of your LinkedIn profile."
"...my what?" Charles squeaked.
Marcus didn't seem to notice. "I've made some projections based on your current salary, your academic background, and your potential growth in the field of social media marketing. Now, assuming a 3% salary increase year over year, your current income would allow for a modest living by age 30. However, I have concerns about your long-term savings plan."
I sat there, mortified.
"Uh," Charles cleared his throat, "I'm still in college. I haven't really, uh, thought that far."
"Mm." Marcus made a note in his fancy notepad like he was evaluating Charles' qualifications for a CEO position. "Xandria's lifestyle, as I'm sure you're aware, requires careful financial planning. It would be irresponsible of me to let her waste time on someone without a long-term investment strategy."
"Marcus, for the love of Prada!" I cut in, my face burning. "This is a dinner, not a financial consultation."
He looked up at me, the corner of his mouth twitching into a slight, very slight, smile. "Every relationship is a long-term investment, Xandria."
I groaned inwardly as Charles tried to smile but looked like he was about to run for the nearest exit.
Marcus was relentless, going on about diversified income streams, real estate portfolios, and how Charles' current career trajectory didn't align with the "Alcove standard." He even had the nerve to suggest Charles start a side business to ensure financial stability.
I buried my face in my hands. "Marcus, can we please just have a normal dinner without you turning it into an IPO evaluation?"
"Xandria, I'm just ensuring that the young man understands the gravity of this situation. Relationships are serious business."
Charles, now pale and clearly regretting every life choice that led him to this moment, coughed. "Uh, I-I brought flowers…"
Marcus blinked at him. "That's charming, but this is a business discussion, not a garden party."
Charles' face fell.
I had half a mind to storm out of the boardroom then and there, but before I could, Marcus clicked through his PowerPoint presentation. Yes, he had a PowerPoint.
A pie chart popped up on the screen, displaying the "probability of success" in relationships based on financial security and emotional stability. My jaw dropped.
"You've gotta be kidding me," I muttered, too horrified to even be angry.
"Charles," Marcus said, his tone all business. "Please explain how you plan to keep my sister happy over the next five years, factoring in inflation and economic volatility."
Charles opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly lost.
"We're done here!" I snapped, standing up so fast I nearly knocked my chair over. "This isn't an interview for CFO. I can date whoever I want, Marcus!"
Marcus simply raised an eyebrow, that maddening calm never leaving his face. "I'm looking out for your future, Xandria."
"More like sabotaging it," I grumbled, grabbing Charles' arm. "Come on, Charles, let's get out of here."
Charles, still dazed, followed me out of the boardroom. As we made our way down the hall, I felt his grip on my hand tighten.
"Uh, Xandria?" he whispered, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "Does this... happen a lot?"
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "More than you'd believe."
Needless to say, Charles didn't ask me out again.
By the time I got back to my room later that night, I was fuming. I could hear my brothers talking in the living room, and every instinct told me to march in there and give them a piece of my mind. But instead, I flopped onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling.
What was the point?
It wasn't just Marcus. Dante had hacked into one of my date's phones to pull up his entire search history.
Julian once had an "accidental" run-in with a guy I was seeing and convinced him that our family was involved in some shady underground mafia business.
Theo... well, Theo didn't need to say a word. Just his death stare was enough to send most guys running for the hills.
I was seventeen, and I'd never been on a date without one of my brothers ruining it.
I picked up my phone, scrolling through messages, and paused at a new text from my best friend, Mila.
Mila: So… any luck with the new guy?
Me: Nope. Marcus pulled out the spreadsheets again.
Mila: Yikes. When are you going to make your escape?
Me: Sooner than you think.
I sat up, biting my lip as a new thought started to form in my mind. What if… what if I did escape? Just for a while? Just to see what life would be like without the Date Extermination Squad breathing down my neck?
A plan started to take shape. I could almost hear Dante's voice in my head, whispering, "You're up to something, Xan."
But this time, I wasn't going to let them stop me.