The glittering chandelier above cast fractals of golden light across the sprawling ballroom, but Amara Kingsley could hardly see past the weight of her family's ultimatum. A thousand eyes watched her from across the room, their judgment almost as suffocating as the tight grip of her stepmother's hand on her arm.
"You have until midnight, Amara," Evelyn Kingsley whispered, her voice smooth as silk and sharp as glass. "Either you announce your engagement tonight, or you forfeit your inheritance."
Amara's throat tightened. "You can't be serious."
"This family doesn't have room for daydreamers or rebels," Evelyn said, her lips curling into a cold smile. "You need a husband who can keep the Kingsley empire intact. Someone like Nathaniel Aldridge."
Amara's gaze darted to the other side of the room where Nate stood, charming as ever in his tailored suit. His smile was perfect, his posture effortless, but beneath the facade was a man who had already shattered her trust—and her heart. The memory of his betrayal churned in her stomach.
She stepped back, wrenching her arm free. "I'd rather lose everything than go back to him."
"Then I hope you're ready to live without the Kingsley name or fortune," Evelyn hissed, her patience waning. "This isn't a choice, Amara. It's a duty."
Duty. The word echoed like a death knell. It was the same excuse they'd used to push her into an engagement with Nate in the first place, the same excuse for every sacrifice she'd made for a family that never saw her as more than a pawn.
Amara's hands clenched into fists, her pulse pounding in her ears. She scanned the room, searching for an escape, a reprieve, anything… and that's when she saw him.
Ronan Blackwood.
He stood near the bar, a glass of scotch in hand, his silver-gray eyes cutting through the crowd like a blade. Tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding an aura of effortless control, he was the antithesis of everything the Kingsleys valued. He was also their greatest rival—and her last hope.
Amara's breath caught as a reckless idea took root in her mind.
Her stepmother followed her gaze, a flicker of disdain crossing her face. "Don't even think about it."
But it was too late. The decision was made.
Straightening her shoulders, Amara crossed the ballroom with measured steps, her heart hammering against her ribs. Ronan's gaze met hers, curiosity flashing in his stormy eyes as she approached.
"Miss Kingsley," he drawled, his voice low and smooth. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Amara forced a smile, ignoring the way her pulse raced under his scrutiny. "How would you like to make a deal?"
His brows lifted in surprise, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "I'm listening."
She leaned in, her voice steady despite the chaos swirling inside her. "Marry me. Tonight."
The smirk faded, replaced by an unreadable expression. For a moment, Ronan said nothing, the silence stretching between them like a taut wire. Then, slowly, he set his glass down and met her gaze with unwavering intensity.
"Well, well," he murmured, his voice laced with intrigue. "This just became the most interesting night of my life."
***