Chapter 6–You’re Always Lucky

Natasha’s POV

I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, exhaling slowly.

My gaze drifted across the room. It should be comforting, but it only reminded me of how little control I actually had over my life.

Marriage. To Tristan. A man I barely know.

The word still didn’t sit right.

I pushed myself off the door and walked further into my room, kicking off my heels carelessly before sinking onto the edge of the bed.

My phone sat beside me.

For a moment, I stared at it. There were several missed calls from Ananya. I hadn’t responded to her texts from this morning, nor had I returned her calls.

I took a deep breath. Then I picked up the phone and dialed.

It didn’t even ring twice.

“Natasha?” her voice came through immediately. “Finally! Do you know how many times I’ve tried calling you?”

I let out a quiet sigh. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t ’I’m fine’ me,” Ananya snapped. “You disappeared after the club. I was literally looking for you everywhere.”

“I left.”

“I figured that much. What I don’t know is why you didn’t think to call me. I was worried sick.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “A lot happened in twenty-four hours.”

There was a brief pause on her end.

“What do you mean by a lot?”

I hesitated, then spoke.

I explained everything that went down at the club last night.

The drunk man. Tristan coming to my rescue.

“And guess what?”

“You went home with Tristan?” she said, amusement creeping into her voice.

“What? No, Ananya.”

“Although…” I paused. “I met him again.”

“You mean Tristan Castillo?”

“Yes, him.”

“Oh. My. God, Tasha! That man is drop-dead gorgeous,” she squealed.

She wasn’t wrong.

“Wait—how come I’m the only one who doesn’t know him? I mean, I’ve heard so much about him, but I’ve never actually seen him until last night. And I wouldn’t even have known who he was if I hadn't met him again tonight.”

“Well, Tasha, you’re barely ever around. It’s always something for your dad—meetings, trips. I’m not surprised you haven’t seen him,” she said casually.

“Anyway,” I said. “ That's besides the point. My father wants me to marry him.”

There was a pause.

For a second, I thought the call had dropped.

“Natasha Whitmore,” Ananya said finally, her voice low with disbelief. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish I was, Ananya.”

“You’re telling me the man who stepped in at the club… the one you argued with…” she let out a sharp breath. “Tristan…your dad wants you to marry him?”

I closed my eyes briefly. “Sadly, yes.”

“And did you agree to it?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Are you out of your mind?” Ananya blurted out. “Do you even know who that man is? I mean, yeah he’s fine and shit.”

“I know enough.”

“No, you don’t,” she cut in quickly. “People don’t just talk about Tristan Castillo for fun. That man has a reputation.”

I let out a dry laugh. “So I heard.”

“Oh, you’ve heard?” Ananya scoffed. “Good. Then you’ve probably heard the part where people say he killed his own parents.”

My grip on the phone tightened.

“People talk, Ananya.” I said, trying to convince myself.

“Maybe,” Ananya replied. “But people don’t call someone ‘the Devil’ for nothing.”

“He’s dangerous, Natasha,” she continued, her tone softer now. “He’s the kind of man you don’t get involved with unless you have no other choice.”

“That’s exactly the point. I don’t have a choice,” I muttered. “Besides, you were so in love with the idea of me getting into bed with him.”

“Yes. A one night stand,” she replied. “Just to clear your head. Especially with everything that has happened.”

“And Natasha…” she paused briefly. “…you do have a choice.”

“Not when your father is willing to trade you off to save his company!” I snapped.

“It has absolutely nothing to do with you!” She shot back. “He got himself into the mess, he should be able to pull himself out.”

“It’s not that easy, Ananya,” I said, my voice low now. “I’ve never seen Marcus this terrified.”

The line went quiet again.

“So what are you going to do?” Ananya asked.

I stared into nothing, my thoughts messy.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Just be careful, Tasha,” Ananya said. “Whatever you decide, don’t lose yourself in it.”

I let out a short sigh. “I won’t.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“Okay then,” she said. “Whatever your decision is, I’m here to support you. I love you, Tash.”

“Love you, too.”

We hung up.

I lowered the phone slowly, my mind still racing.

Suddenly, I wasn’t alone.

A figure stood near the door. My eyes shifted toward it.

Victoria stood there, leaning casually against the frame, her arms crossed.

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, my voice flat.

“Long enough,” she replied smoothly.

“Why am I not surprised?” I muttered.

Victoria smiled faintly. “You’re getting married.”

“Stay out of it.”

“To Tristan Castillo,” she continued like I hadn’t spoken. “I have to admit, I didn’t see that coming.”

“Well then, good for you.”

Victoria pushed off the doorframe and stepped into the room. “You know you’re always lucky.”

My eyes narrowed slightly. Did she just call this luck?

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means no matter the situation, you somehow end up getting the good stuff.

I let out a sharp laugh. “The good stuff you say?”

“Is it not?” Victoria tilted her head. “He’s rich, powerful, influential. Most women would kill for that.”

“Is that right? Then you should take my place,” I shot back. “You’ve always had a habit of wanting what’s mine. The only thing you’ve never succeeded in having was Lucas.”

For a split second, something flickered in Victoria’s eyes.

Before she could say anything else, a knock sounded on the door.

“Miss Natasha. Miss Victoria, the master requests your presence at dinner,” the maid said from the other side.”

I didn’t look away from Victoria.

“Tell him we’ll be there,” Victoria said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The maid left the room.

Silence stretched between us.

Victoria was the first to move.

As soon as she walked out, I slipped into my pajamas.

The dining room was already set when I walked in.

My father sat at the head of the table, composed, his expression unreadable.

Victoria was already seated.

I took my seat without a word.

The clinking of cutlery filled the room, sharp.

My father was the first to speak.

“How did your meeting with Tristan go?”

I didn’t look up immediately. I finished my bite before I answered.

“It went exactly how you expected.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s the only one I have for you.”

Victoria let out a quiet laugh. “You could at least try to cooperate, Natasha. This isn’t just about you.”

My gaze snapped to her. “No, you’re right. It’s about the family. It has always been about the family.”

“Because it is,” Victoria replied calmly. “This marriage benefits all of us.”

“Why don’t you speak for yourself?”

“Oh, I am,” Victoria said. “Because unlike you, I understand what’s at stake.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Right. What’s at stake. Tell me, Vic, what exactly is at stake? Or what you stand to gain?”

Her expression hardened slightly. “You’re being unreasonable and dramatic.”

“And you’re being shameless.”

“If you’re so concerned about what’s at stake,” I continued. “I said it earlier, you can take my place.”

My father set his fork down with a quiet but firm sound.

“That’s enough, you two!”

Neither of us spoke.

“I will not tolerate this kind of behavior at my table,” he continued, his voice controlled but sharp. “You will both learn to respect each other.”

“And if you can’t, at least have the decency to respect my presence.” His voice carried weight.

I pushed my chair back abruptly.

“I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Natasha—“

I didn’t wait for him to finish.

I stood up and walked out as I headed back upstairs.

This house is starting to feel suffocating.

Or maybe it was just me.

Either way, it didn’t feel like home anymore.