🔥Shane🔥
The door shut behind them with a soft click.
Daniella's heels faded down the corridor, Ethan's usual sarcastic mutter trailing after her.
Peace. Finally.
Then came the knock.
I didn't answer.
The door opened anyway.
"Still refusing to respect boundaries?"I muttered.
"Surprise,"my father said dryly.
"I didn't invite you."
"And yet here I am," he replied, shutting the door behind him. "Now sit."
I didn't move. "I'm not a child."
"No,"he said, stepping fully into the room, dressed in a tailored gray suit as if he were heading to a war board meeting instead of delivering a message. "You're a legacy. There's a difference."
Legacy. A funny word for ownership.
"I'm not in the mood for lectures."
He handed me a silver folder, thick and expensive, designed to trap people with class.
I opened it.
Read the first few lines.
And froze.
"You're joking,"I muttered.
"I don't joke,"he said.
"What?"My voice was quiet, but it cracked like glass.
"You're engaged to Tyla Jackson,"he announced, as casually as if he were telling me the weather.
"The deal was finalized this morning. The press release drops after the Hiddleson gala next month."
I blinked.
Engaged?
To Tyla?
"You didn't even ask me," I said.
"You don't get asked," he replied calmly. "You get positioned."*
My fists clenched around the folder.
"So I'm just a chess piece now?"
"No." His voice was sharp, final. "You're the king. But even kings marry for power."
He turned to leave, as if that was it. As if that was all.
"Dad," I called out. He stopped. "She hates me."
"Good," he said. "Then you won't get distracted."
I stared at the papers in my hand, our names, our families, a billion-dollar deal disguised as a love story. Jackson-Williams merger.
"What if I refuse?" I asked.
"Then you lose everything."He didn't even look at me when he said it.
He walked out as if it were just another meeting.
And I stood there, feeling like I couldn't breathe.
Silence poured in like poison.
He didn't choose me for love.
He didn't care what I wanted.
He chose Tyla because it was efficient.
And I was expected to smile through it, hold her hand, and pretend we weren't two broken weapons being forced to play happy.
This wasn't a proposal.
It was a transaction.
And I was the product.
Scene: Jackson mansion
👑 TYLA 👑
Sunlight sneaked through the blinds, casting lazy stripes across my room. I stared at the ceiling, pretending the mess on my desk and the weight in my chest didn't exist.
Dragging myself up, I went through the motions: brushed my teeth, washed my face, slipped into something sharp enough to hide the mess beneath.
After my morning rituals, I headed downstairs to eat.
The house was eerily quiet. Too quiet.
So imagine my shock when I pushed open the dining room door and saw my father sitting at the breakfast table, alongside my mother, Ethan, and even my sister, Lena.
They all looked up as I entered.
My father didn't say a word. Just picked up his coffee and kept staring ahead.
The man who hadn't spoken to me since the gala.
I hesitated. The air felt thick with things unsaid.
Finally, he broke the silence, his voice cold and clipped: "Tyla, sit down."
I did, careful not to meet his eyes.
He glanced at the table as if reading a report. "I went through your quarterly report. The numbers look good. PR needs work."
No mention of the gala. No mention of Shane.
I waited.
He finally looked at me. "You're getting engaged."
I blinked. My fingers froze. My breath caught. My whole body stiffened. "I'm sorry, what?"
"To Shane Williams."
Mom cleared her throat but said nothing.
My brother's jaw tightened. And my sister avoided looking at me.
I laughed bitterly. "You're joking."
His face didn't move. "Do I ever joke?"
My voice cracked before I could stop it. "You haven't talked to me since the gala, and now you expect me to agree to this?"
He shrugged as if it meant nothing. "That incident wasn't worth discussing. This is."
"You arranged this without even telling me? Without asking?"
My chest tightened.
"It's already arranged," he said.
Already.
Not discussed.
Not considered.
Decided.
"You think you can just arrange my future behind my back?"
"I didn't arrange it behind your back. I arranged it for your benefit."
"Oh, how generous,"I snapped, standing. "After ignoring me for days, you finally speak, and it's to inform me that I've been auctioned off like some prized cattle?"
"Don't be dramatic. You're a Jackson. This is your duty."
"So I'm just… leverage?" I asked. "You didn't even ask how I felt."
"Because your feelings," he said coldly, "do not build empires."
"Because your feelings don't dictate billion-dollar decisions,"* he repeated, calm as steel. "You've been trained for this."
"I was trained to lead,"I snapped. "Not be sold off like some glass doll in a display case."
My blood ran cold. "So I'm a pawn now?"
"No," he said. "You're a legacy. Start acting like it."
I shoved my chair back violently. "You didn't even ask me."
He stood then, finally matching my energy. "You were trained to represent this family. To protect its interests. And right now, you're failing."*
I laughed again, bitter this time. "No. I'm failing at pretending I don't hate you."
He stepped closer. "This world doesn't care if you hate me. It only cares if you win. And this? This is how you win."
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall. Not in front of him. Not again.
"So that's it?" I whispered. "You trade your daughter like a stock because it looks good on paper?"
"You should be thanking me," he said. "Do you know how many women would kill for the Williams heir?"
I stared at him as if I didn't know him at all. Maybe I never did.
"I won't marry him," I declared.
"Yes,"he said. "You will. Because marriage is a strategic alliance. It strengthens both families."
The room fell silent, heavy and tense.
I wanted to scream. To fight.
But instead, I turned and ran upstairs.