Beneath the surface

ADRIAN POV.

“My dad is here,” Vera’s voice was casual, like it was normal for him to be here. My heart skipped a beat as I turned to face her, she was already dressed.

“Why?” I asked, my voice edged with irritation as I tried to make sense of why he was here.

“He’s here to talk about our wedding,” Vera smiled but I felt a knot in my stomach. Why now? This is bad.

“Why?” Vera asked, her eyes narrowing as she took in my reaction. “Don't you want this? I can't wait to be your wife, share your name, and have your kids.”

Her words made me want to gag. The phone rang again and I answered it. “Yes, Father…okay.” I hung up. He wanted to meet on the terrace.

I wasn't ready to get married to Vera, at least not yet. I quickly put on clothes and was headed to the door when Vera called out to me. “I'm your soon-to-be wife, we should walk together.”

She slipped her hand into mine and we walked out to the terrace. Mom, Lilian, Dad and Mr. Elon—Vera’s dad—was already sitting there.

Lilian giggled. “Oh… look at you two, did you both…” I kept my face blank.

“Good evening, Father, Mr. Elon,” I shook hands with Vera’s dad. Mom's sad eyes met mine. She understood but what could she do?

“Don't tease them, Lilian. See? Vera’s blushing so hard.” Mum said, as Vera smiled and wrapped her arm around mine before we sat down.

“How is work, Adrian?” Mr Elon’s question came as the butlers came in with trays of wine and caviar.

“Work’s fine, Mr Elon,” My voice was flat. I just wanted to go to bed and dream of Kat…

Mr. Elon chuckled, a sound that felt too businesslike. “No need for formalities, Adrian. You will be calling me Dad soon enough.”

When I didn't answer almost immediately, Dad gave an alerting cough and I muttered. “Right,” The two men shared a shallow laugh.

“Alright, ladies, let's leave the men to talk business,” Mom said with a tight smile, her eyes flickered to me for a brief moment before she led Vera and Lilian to the far end of the terrace.

Dad cleared his throat, “Now, back to the real reason for this meeting.” My heart thumped heavily in my chest. There was no escape route now. “Do you know Owen Dalton?”

The question caught me off guard, but I quickly straightened up. “Yes, he owns Dalton Financial Partners.”

“Good. You know your stuff.” Dad said with a smile on his face.

“A charity gala is coming up in less than a month, and every successful businessman is expected to attend,” Mr Elon said.

“We’re talking about teaming up with Owen Dalton.” Dad started, his tone serious. “And I need you to make something clear to him.”

“Don't just ask him to partner with us. Make sure he sees the value in working with us and that he's fully committed to this partnership.” Dad added, locking his eyes on mine.

“We need someone who shares our vision and is willing to work together to achieve our goals,” Mr Elon chimed in.

“No hesitation, no uncertainty. I want Owen Dalton to be all in before the gala. Do I make myself clear?” Dad's voice was firm.

“Yes, Father, I understand.” I said nodding, at least it was better than bringing up the marriage.

“Good. Let's toast to better opportunities and partnerships.” Dad said, raising his glass.

***

I slumped on the bed. I exhaled slowly, relief settling in my chest like a small victory that the wedding wasn't brought up. That was the last thing I needed.

I needed an escape, something to take my tension away. I walked toward my closet, but instead of opening the main closet door.

I placed my hand on the adjacent wall where a small, almost invisible scanner scanned my fingerprint.

As the scanner beeped softly, a section of the wall slid open, revealing a narrow, dimly lit passageway. I stepped inside and the wall panel closed behind me.

My eyes sparkled as I entered my second secret sanctuary, a place where I could freely express myself and be myself.

The scent of papers and colors greeted me. Shelves lined the walls, piled high with sketchbooks and art supplies.

I turned on the fluorescent light and the light shone on my drawings. I had loved drawing since childhood but Dad didn't want to hear of it.

Ken was the only one who supported me and believed in my talent. He had dismissed Dad’s harsh words and assured me I would be the biggest artist in the world.

Dad dismissed arts and said they were for girls and he wouldn't allow his sons to do something so useless.

Regardless, Ken would smuggle in art supplies to the attic where I would draw. He promised that since he was going to take over Dad’s business, Dad wouldn't be so invested in what I did.

I was so happy that I would be an artist until Ken died, and my dreams died with him. Dad had thrown me the responsibility that Ken was supposed to shoulder.

I will never forget the day Dad saw me drawing. His fury was like a storm, he burned all my drawings and threatened to chop off my hands and send me to an orphanage if he ever saw me with a sketchbook again.

Mom’s gentle voice had urged me to obey him because he was my father and wanted the best for me.

For weeks, he locked me inside a room with business books that almost suffocated life from me. I was only 10.

I realized it was futile fighting him and learned to hide my passion. And when I returned from the business school.

I’d carved out this secret room where I continued drawing and be the artist I was meant to be even if no one else knew.

My eyes caught a drawing, one that stood out among others. Katherine’s face stared back at me, her freckles and blonde hair stretched in delicate lines.

I’d drawn her the moment I returned from the UK, desperate not to forget her and search for her whenever I visited the UK.

But instead, fate had brought her to me. I smiled; I hadn't met such a stubborn woman before. I was sure she liked me.

She would have smacked my hand away when I touched her, but instead, she let me continue.

I grabbed some pencils and colors, then settled on the stool to draw whatever came to mind.

I’d try to convince her one more time, to show her that I need her, not just in my life, but in my heart.