The Guest.

ALEX.

I adjusted the cuff of my sleeve for the third time, though it didn’t need fixing. The tie was already knotted perfectly, the suit pressed to precision, the shoes polished until I could see my reflection. Still, I fussed. Anything to keep my mind from dwelling on what tonight meant.

I descended the marble staircase slowly, one hand trailing along the rail. My parents had spared no expense; the chandeliers glowed, the silverware gleamed, and a small army of staff flitted about preparing every detail. The whole house seemed to hold its breath.

I took my place in the sitting room adjacent to the dining hall, waiting. My mother swept past me, pausing only long enough to give me a once-over.

“Perfect,” she murmured approvingly. “Stand tall. Remember your smile.” I didn’t smile. I didn’t feel like smiling. How could I, when tonight I was about to meet the stranger they expected me to marry?

I poured myself a drink from the sideboard, the amber liquid steadying my nerves. My father entered a moment later, his expression unreadable, his hands clasped behind his back.

“They’ll be here soon,” he said. I gave a stiff nod, taking a slow sip.

And then voices. The sound of a car door closing, footsteps echoing through the foyer. The butler’s announcement carried into the hall, formal and booming: “Mr. and Mrs. Harrington… and their daughter, Bella.”

The glass nearly slipped from my hand. Bella? I turned toward the doorway just as they stepped inside. And there she was, Bella Harrington.

Blonde hair like sunlight, falling in waves over her shoulders. Eyes sharp and bright, her mouth set in that same poised curve I remembered. She wore midnight blue, and the color made her glow like some untouchable thing.

For a split second, I forgot how to breathe.

And then the memory hit me like a punch to the ribs. Her laughter. Her words, cutting and merciless. The way she had looked at me smug, superior as the crowd had stared. The humiliation I had swallowed while she walked away victorious. Her? Of all people!   

“You?” The word ripped out of me before I could stop it, harsher than I intended.

Her eyes widened. “You?” she whispered back, shock plain on her face.

The room went still. My mother blinked, glancing between us. My father’s brow furrowed. Even the Harringtons shifted uncomfortably.

“You know each other?” my mother asked, her voice cautious.

I laughed, sharp and humorless. “Know each other? Oh, we’ve met.”

Bella’s cheeks flushed, but she said nothing.

My father’s gaze sharpened. “Alexander,” he warned.

But I was past the point of civility. My jaw tightened, my words falling like stone. “There is no way I am going to marry her.”

A murmur rippled around the room. My mother’s hand fluttered to her chest. The Harringtons stiffened. Bella’s lips parted, as though she might speak but she didn’t. I set my glass down with deliberate care, the crystal clinking against the table. Then I looked straight at my parents.

“You can scheme, you can negotiate, you can make all the business deals you want. But if you think I’ll stand at an altar with her-” I jabbed a finger in Bella’s direction, “—after what she did? You’re dreaming.”

It was a bright morning, the kind that makes the city sparkle. I had just moved here and was still learning the rhythms of life on my own. I decided to grab a coffee at that little café everyone seemed to rave about. Nothing fancy, just a quick latte before heading to work.

I was juggling my phone, a notebook, and my oversized jacket when I accidentally bumped into someone at the door.

“Oh! Sorry,” I mumbled automatically, glancing up.

And then I saw her, Bella. Blonde hair perfectly falling over her shoulders, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. She was chatting casually with the barista, unaware of me until that precise moment.

She turned slowly, looked me up and down, and said, loud enough for the entire line to hear:

“Wow, careful! Don’t trip over your own ego before your coffee, Mr. Big Shot.”

The barista laughed. People in line laughed. Even the guy reading the paper in the corner snorted quietly. I froze, I hadn’t said anything. I hadn’t tried to impress her. I hadn’t even wanted her attention. But somehow, in one sentence, she had made me look ridiculous in front of the whole café.

I mumbled another apology, muttering something about being clumsy, and quickly grabbed my coffee, wishing the floor would open and swallow me whole. From that moment on, I remembered her. The girl who made me look foolish without even trying. The girl who, somehow, had gotten under my skin with a single witty remark.

My mother laughed when I told them what happened to me and Bella back then like it was nothing. Well, she made everyone in that café look at me like I was some kind of a freak.

“So that’s what happened? I thought it was a big deal.” My mother said still laughing.

“I don’t care mom, I will not marry her,” I said, my voice firm. Everyone at the table froze, even the chandelier seemed to pause mid-swing.

Bella raised an eyebrow, tilting her head like she was trying to decide if I was serious or just amusing.

“And I don’t want to marry you either,” she said, her tone sharp, her words deliberate. “I’m not some prize to be handed off.” A small laugh escaped me despite the tension. Finally, someone matching my energy. Good.

“Then what exactly are we doing here?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her. She leaned back slightly, folding her arms. “Apparently, we’re supposed to smile, nod politely, and pretend we’re delighted. But I refuse. Not happening.”

The room was thick with silence. My mother pursed her lips. Her father cleared his throat. And then… my father finally spoke.

“Enough,” he said, his voice calm but firm, carrying that weight that made the room shrink around him. “You two will get married.”

I almost choked on my own tongue. “Excuse me?”

Bella’s expression shifted from defiance to disbelief. “Wait… what?”

He held up a hand to stop the protests before they even began. “You’ll be married for ninety days. Ninety days in which you will live under the same roof, interact daily, and attempt to make this arrangement work. If, after that time, you find that you cannot tolerate each other…” He glanced at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “…then you will get divorced. No complications, no arguments about splitting assets. Ninety days, then freedom if it fails.”

Bella blinked. Her mouth twitched like she was holding back a laugh or a scream. “You’re serious?”

“Completely serious,” my father replied. “This is a business arrangement first and foremost. Your cooperation is expected.”

I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. Ninety days. That was all. A short, finite period. And yet… the thought of being forced to spend every single day with Bella made me want to storm out of the room.

Bella, on the other side of the table, narrowed her eyes at me. “So,” she said, voice cold but calculating, “we’re stuck together. Ninety days of forced misery, just in case we discover we hate each other enough to get divorced.”

I smirked despite myself. “Sounds… delightful.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “You really think I’m going to make it easy for you?”

“Oh, believe me,” I replied, leaning forward, “I plan to make it extremely difficult for you as well.”

For a moment, the tension between us felt electric, sparking and crackling like a storm waiting to break. Bella’s gaze locked with mine, defiant, sharp. I realized, with a mixture of annoyance and fascination, that this wasn’t going to be easy. Not by a long shot.

My father’s expression softened ever so slightly. “This is temporary,” he said again, almost gently. “But make no mistake these ninety days will define your future. Cooperation is mandatory.”

Bella let out a short laugh, one part incredulous, one part frustrated. “Define our future? With you?” she muttered under her breath, loud enough for me to hear.

“With me,” I repeated, mock-cheerful. “Apparently, yes.”

The room seemed to shrink even further, the air heavy with unspoken tension. I could feel it this wasn’t just a marriage contract. It was the beginning of a battle, one neither of us would walk away from easily.

“Fine,” Bella said finally, leaning back in her chair, arms crossed. “Ninety days. But don’t think for a second that I’ll make it easy for you.”

I raised my own eyebrow. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” And just like that, the die was cast. Ninety days, no escape and no easy way out.