The room was quiet. Sunlight peeked through the closed blinds, but otherwise, it was dark.
Nathaniel was slumped in bed, the soft glow of his phone illuminating his face.
So many texts and calls, emails and updates. The screen was flooded with notifications, even on a Sunday.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
He didn't react. Only shifted into a more comfortable position.
Whoever it was would go away soon enough. But nope, not her.
"He's asleep-"
"Oh he sure ain't."
The door burst open, and two women stood in the doorway.
"The hell?" he turned, brows frowned.
His mother was standing in the doorway, arms crossed and expression tired. His sister, however, was already halfway inside.
"Get your ass up." Melaine attempted to yank off the sheets.
Nathaniel protested, pulling them back, "Bold of you to casually barge into a grown man's room."
"Oh? Were you screwing someone?" A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.
The man blushed, "The f-"
"Enough," Aurelia interrupted. Nathaniel grumbled and pulled himself up.
"Why did she have to come again?" he pointed at his sister.
Melaine Victor had heard of her brother's upcoming wedding, and flew back to the States from Italy just yesterday.
"Because, who else is going to embarrass you when you get married?" she laughed.
"The wedding is in a month, and it will be nothing like what you expect, Melaine." Aurelia corrected.
She raised a brow. "Huh?"
The mother, as impatient as ever, shook her head, "Never mind. Nathan, fill her in. I have to go. Your wife is waiting for me at the mall."
Nathan rolled his eyes, Melaine blinked.
"What? You're doing the shopping already? And without me?"
Aurelia fixed her daughter with a sharp glare, "I told you, Melaine, this is not a wedding. Only a contract and a display of power. You can have fun at your own wedding."
As if she'd let her.
"Okay, whatever, leave now," Nathan said instead.
She obliged, leaving the room and shutting the door.
Suddenly, Melaine turned and sat down on the bed, facing her brother with a stern expression.
He raised a brow, "What now?"
"Would you please explain what the hell is even going on?"
Her brother bit his lip. "It's… complicated."
"Complicated? I was under the impression that you had magically found the love of your life, and you were the one who wanted the wedding to take place next month."
He scoffed, "What the hell? Who told you all that bullcrap?"
"Mother."
He paused, groaning inwardly. "... Just great. She's probably told the whole world that story."
"But I am not the whole world, am I? Can I at least know what's happening behind the scenes?!"
Her expression was a mix of anger and frustration, her lips pursed and blue eyes narrowed.
"Basically," Nathaniel said, rubbing his face, "Mother has decided I'm incapable of choosing my own wife."
"And you?"
He didn't answer.
. . .
White, white, white.
So much white. The lights, the sofas, the dresses, everything oversimulated Beatrice. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.
But unfortunately, she was stuck here until this woman was satisfied.
She had tried on a beautiful satin gown, standing in front of her audience. Even as it was the fifteenth one, she couldn't help but admire it. From fitted bodices to flowy skirts, all of them had an elegance of their own.
Maybe this is what her mother meant when she said 'a bride can never be outshined, no matter what she wears.'
Aurelia, however, had drastically different opinions.
"Absolutely not, no sleeveless." she waved her away, looking through the racks again.
Chelsea stared. Beatrice rubbed her temples.
"Ms. Woode," she tried to negotiate, "the one before this was perfect."
The woman spun around and raised a brow.
This was the first time that day that Beatrice had offered her opinion, so brushing it off wasn't appropriate.
"Which one was it again?" she managed, teeth gritted.
The brunette picked a fitted white dress thrown on a nearby stool. The neck was covered with a white tulle-ish material, similar to the sleeves that went all the way down to the fingers.
The only downside was… it was a tad bit revealing. The waist was pinched, and the neckline plunged down to reveal a lot of cleavage.
Her lips twitched, "Don't mind me dear, but that one is the textbook definition of 'whore'."
Beatrice narrowed her eyes. "That solely depends on the body type, Ms.."
"Oh? Try it on then."
She knew Aurelia was only humoring her, but it was worth a shot.
As expected, the cloth was molded to fit Beatrice's every curve. The collar complimented her long neck, and the mermaid tail balanced the sharpness perfectly.
All the attendants in the room were awed. Chelsea stood up from her chair, walking over to the mirror her daughter was staring at herself in.
"You weren't wrong, it looks gorgeous." Her lips curved.
The woman across the room watched them carefully.
Rejecting it now would cost her more than letting it pass.
She put on a smile again, approaching them. "Goodness, I underestimated you!"
Aurelia locked eyes with her daughter in-law, and tilted her head, "We can final this then. Shall we go for shoes next?"
Beatrice caught the sudden shift in her demeanor, but nodded anyway.
"Jimmy Choo is just around the corner, we can stop there," Chelsea agreed, steering her daughter back to the changing room.
Aurelia picked up her bag, getting ready to leave.
"Of course, Chelsea."
. . .
"Ah, just the person I was looking for."
Professor Victor halted, looking around. Then slowly, he pointed to himself.
"Me?"
"Yes." Professor Collins nodded.
Victor couldn't believe his ears. "Me? You were looking for me?"
The hall was exceptionally quiet, except for a low giggle that slipped out.
"Yes, Professor Nathaniel Victor." She rolled her eyes, grumbling.
He raised a brow. "Am I in trouble?"
"If you keep this up, you might be." She glared.
"Follow me."
The woman led him to an empty classroom, away from the public eye. Only when she made sure the door was locked firmly did she breathe deeply.
She turned around, meeting the skeptical expression of the man.
"Are you going to commit a murder?"
"No, you idiot," she snapped, running a hand through her well maintained hair.
"So…?"
"I have to talk to you, obviously." she stated, mildly annoyed.
"Right. About what exactly?" he crossed his arms.
She stared at him. "Are you joking? Or just slow?"
He blinked.
Oh.
"Right, sorry." he looked away, ears red.
She took a deep breath, "I have my terms."
"...Huh?"
"It's a contract, right? I have my own clauses to add."
He frowned, but nodded anyway.
That was unexpected.
"First and foremost, I will not be forced to do anything by anyone. You, your mom, or whatever."
"Okay… and my sister? And brother?"
She paused, "...What?"
He shrugged, "I have siblings, you know. Not everyone is an only child."
"Okay, yes, your siblings too. What I wear, where I go, who I talk to, what I do, et cetera."
He hummed. Fair enough.
"Second, you will listen to me."
He raised a brow. "Huh?"
"Not… every little thing, I know your ego is too big for that," she added quietly, "but the logical and rational stuff. And the stuff that involves me."
"...Go on."
"Third, you won't withhold important information from me, and fourth, we remain loyal to each other, even if we hate each other."
"Withhold information?" He bit back a laugh. "And what's the point of such loyalty when you can't even feel something for me?"
"Fifth, and final," she ignored him, but she hesitated on the last term.
He smirked. "Come on now, you've been pretty shameless so far. Why stop now?"
"I won't," she said quietly, "be forced to have your children."
The room went quiet.