90 DAYS WITH BELLA.

ALEX.

They say a man can build empires, crush competitors, even stare down billion-dollar deals but the moment his mother frowns across the dining table, all that power shrinks into nothing. That’s what I was reminded of tonight, as I sat stiff-backed in my family’s grand dining room, pretending to enjoy food I could barely taste.

The clinking of silverware against porcelain echoed like a metronome. My father, Gregory, sat at the head of the table, shoulders squared like he was born to carry the weight of legacy. Beside him, my mother, Catherine, wore her usual expression of quiet disapproval, the kind only mothers can perfect. My younger sister, Elena, was scrolling on her phone under the table, thinking she was subtle.

 “Alexander,” my father said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “You’re twenty-eight years old. Do you think this… aimless lifestyle can continue forever?” Aimless! That word lodged itself in my throat like a thorn.

I leaned back, pushing the glass of wine between my fingers. “Aimless? I manage the company’s investments in three continents. I built my own firm without touching your money. If that’s aimless, I’d love to hear what you consider meaningful.”

My mother’s lips thinned. She folded her napkin delicately, as if preparing for battle. “Meaningful is building a family more like securing the Alexander name. Do you think wealth alone carries respect in our community?” There it was, the family reputation. That shadow I could never escape.

I chuckled, though it sounded more bitter than amused. “Ah, so we’re back to that conversation again. Marriage, the sacred chain you’re so eager to lock around my neck.”

Father’s fork clattered onto his plate. His eyes narrowed, steel-grey and sharp. “Don’t mock what you don’t understand. Every generation before you has respected tradition. And now it falls on you to carry it forward.” Of course tradition. That word again, like a noose disguised in silk.

I remembered the whispers at gatherings, the endless matchmaking suggestions, and the pitying looks from relatives as if I were some broken product that needed fixing. Why isn’t Alexander married yet? Doesn’t he care about the family’s standing?

Truth is I really didn’t care. Not about their gossip and not about their judgment. But my parents cared deeply. And their care translated into pressure pressing down on me until my chest felt tight.

I set my glass down and exhaled slowly. “Let’s say I play along with this circus. Who’s the lucky girl this time? Some friend’s daughter? Another business associate’s niece?”

Mother’s eyes flickered. That was all the answer I needed.

I laughed, hollow and sharp. “Of course. A marriage contract dressed up as cultural duty. Tell me, do I get any say in this, or should I just sign wherever you place the dotted line?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” she said, her tone clipped. “This isn’t a punishment. It’s a blessing. You need stability. A partner who understands the weight of our family’s name.”

“Translation,” I muttered. “Someone to parade on my arm so the Blackwoods don’t look like savages who let their eldest son live unmarried at twenty-eight.”

Elena finally looked up from her phone, raising a brow. “You are kind of savage and dramatic.” I shot her a glare. “Not helping.”

Father slammed his palm against the table, the sound echoing across the cavernous dining hall. “Enough!” His voice thundered with finality. “This discussion is not optional. Either you take responsibility, or we will take measures you won’t like.”

I swallowed hard, my jaw tightening. Measures I won’t like? what did that even mean? Cutting me off? Disowning me? Maybe. But the Blackwoods loved their empire too much to make a scandal of it.

I forced a smile, though my hands curled into fists under the table. “So, what happens if I say no?”

My father leaned forward, his eyes unflinching. “Then the board will reconsider your position. Your inheritance will be reevaluated. You’ll find yourself stripped of everything you think is yours. We gave you the foundation. Don’t forget who you are without it.”

The words hit like a punch to the ribs. I’d built my company, yes, but I knew how deep their reach went. If they wanted to sabotage me, they could. Connections, networks, reputations they had the power to scorch my name to the ground.

I hated that he was right and I hated even more that I cared. Silence fell, heavy as stone. I felt Elena watching me, almost pitying. My mother’s expression softened slightly, as if she thought her harshness was love. My father simply waited, certain I’d break.

Finally, I pushed my chair back. The scrape of wood against marble felt like a scream. I stood, buttoning my jacket with deliberate slowness. “I’ll think about it,” I said flatly.

“Think quickly,” Father warned. “Time is running out. And don’t even bother finding a girl, we have one for you.”

“Wow! So, you chose a girl for me huh? What if I have my own girlfriend?” I asked in surprised. I knew they’ll always pressure me to get married but I never knew they had someone ready to get married to me.

“Come on, Alex. Don’t make this complicated. We know you’ve been single for a long time now. And she’s a good woman, you will love her.” My mother replied.

I walked out before I lost my composure.

The night air outside was crisp, cutting into my lungs as if reminding me I was still alive. I loosened my tie, shoving my hands into my pockets, and wandered through the garden like a ghost in my own home.

Arranged marriage, family reputation, and my position in the company. Every word felt like chains tightening around me. I had built a life on independence, carving out success just to prove I wasn’t a puppet of the Blackwoods. But one dinner, one ultimatum, and suddenly I was a boy again, powerless and trapped.

I lit a cigarette I didn’t even want, watching the smoke curl against the night sky. My reflection in the glass doors stared back at me sharp jawline, tailored suit, a man who looked like he had everything. But inside, I was suffocating. I wasn’t afraid of marriage, I was afraid of losing myself. Afraid of becoming a symbol instead of a man. I wasn’t ready to fall in love again, not after what happened to me.