Chapter Five

Amelia's POV

The family dinner

The car hummed to a stop outside my parent's house, and for some reason I couldn't stop shaking.

My hands were clenched on my lap, my knuckles turned white. The dashboard lights cast a glow across the steering wheel where Asher sat beside me, calm as still water. He hadn't said a word since we turned onto this street. He just reached over, took my right hand in his, and wrapped his fingers around mine.

"You're going to crack my bones if you squeeze any harder," he chuckled.

I tried to laugh, but it came out like a breath. "Sorry."

He didn't let go. Instead, he rubbed his thumb slowly across my knuckles, back and forth, until I calmed down.

I looked at him. When I told him that I had a family dinner this weekend, I didn't expect him to be cool with it, saying it was a great opportunity for him to meet his "soon-to-be in-laws." But here he was, in front of my parents' house, holding my hand.

"Are you sure you don't wanna bail?" I asked.

He turned his head slightly. The question didn't seem to surprise him.

"I mean it," I continued, my voice quieter now.

"My parents don't really like me. My own father told me that I didn't deserve company. My sister—" I paused.

"My sister got engaged to the man I loved. And I'm still the one who has to show up tonight."

I looked at our joint hands, "If you want to turn this car around and walk away, I won't be angry."

Before I could ask what he was doing, he brought out a small velvet box. Inside it sat a beautiful pear-shaped diamond ring.

I stopped breathing.

He removed it from the box, and placed the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly.

"If we're doing this, we need to do it well. How would we tell everyone we're engaged without a ring?" He kissed the ring on my finger.

"I'm not going anywhere darling." He smiled.

He alighted from his side of the car, opened my side of the door, and held out his hand. I took it. He helped me carry the boxed gift that I got for my sister.

We walked to the front door hand in hand.

I looked at him again, then I opened the door, and we stepped in.

Everyone in the room came to a halt.

My older brother, Ethan, and his wife, Sam. Ivy showcasing her engagement ring.

And the worst person in the world — Damian Hades.

The family house was exactly as I remembered. The walls were cream colored, lined with framed photographs: Ivy beaming at graduation, Ivy on a horse, Ivy laughing at a garden party, her face was everywhere. Ethan had his own small cluster near the staircase.

And then there was me. One picture, on a side table in the corner of the living room. My school photo from years ago, the one I was smiling too brightly because I hadn't yet learned that smiling wouldn't make them see me.

There was a large family portrait above the fireplace: Mum, dad, Ethan and Ivy, all dressed in blue, and smiling like a catalog spread. I wasn't in it. That photo shoot had been scheduled while I was away in boarding school, despite Ethan's begging for it to be rescheduled. They didn't.

Sam squealed, "Bestie, you didn't tell me he was this hot."

She practically launched herself out of her chair—Ethan had to help steady her—and came striding towards us like she owned the room. She was wearing a flowery blue gown that reached her ankles. Her baby bump was so big that I thought it could pop any second from now.

"Hi." She extended her hand with a grin.

"My name is Samantha. I'm her best friend, and your future in-law." He shook it.

I had filled her in on the contract marriage, of course. I told her who I was getting married to, why and in what practical terms. She was my trusted lawyer, and she needed to write out the contract.

Ethan stood behind her, with a questioning look on his face. He was wearing a blue tee shirt— matching the shade of blue that Sam was wearing—paired with black jeans, and his brown hair was trimmed.

"Good evening my dearest brother, did you miss me?" I smiled, then I launched at him, strangling him in a tight hug. He hugged me back, patting my back gently.

He laughed, "I did. Care to introduce me to the good-looking man standing behind you."

I pulled away from him.

"Ethan, this is my fiancé, Asher Sinclair. Asher, this is my elder brother, Ethan," I gestured. They smiled, and shook hands. But Ethan's eyes lingered on Asher a second too long.

And then that look crept across his face. The one I have known since childhood, that said: this isn't over. We'll talk later.

"Fiancé?" A voice cut through the air.

Ivy stormed towards us, heels snapping against the floor. She was wearing a short white dress that stopped at her thigh. Her diamond studs caught the chandelier light.

Behind her shuffled Damien, hands in his pockets, collar slightly undone. He wore a blue suit—the same one I'd picked out when we had an appointment three months ago.

"You got engaged to my uncle?" Damian asked, his voice dripping with disgust.

I didn't give them time to say another word.

I turned to Asher, grabbed the front of his jacket, and pulled him down into a kiss. It wasn't soft or sweet—it was deliberate, slow and long enough to make everyone in the room uncomfortable.

"Last week," I looked directly at Damian.

"He proposed during a romantic dinner last week." I smiled, showing off my diamond ring.

"You understand how wonderful it feels to be chosen, don't you, Damian?"

No one spoke.

"Where's mum?" I asked, turning to Ethan.

He blinked, clearly still processing what he'd just watched. "She's in the kitchen."

I grabbed Asher's hand and walked straight through the living room, past Ivy's frozen face, and Damian's clenched jaw, and pushed open the kitchen door.

My mother stood on the island, arranging cheese on a platter. She looked up as we entered. Her eyes flicked at me first, then drifted to Asher. "Amelia," she said, her tone pleasant but hollow, like she was reading my name off a list.

"You're here. And you brought someone." That was it. No question about how I'd been. Just an acknowledgment that I existed.

"Mother, this is Asher, my fiance," I said.

She looked at him again, then nodded.

"Welcome." Then she turned back to her cheese platter.

I pulled Asher back into the sitting room, where Ivy was now standing with her arms crossed. I reached for the gift box that Asher was holding.

"For you," I said, holding it out. "An engagement gift. Since I missed the… party."

Ivy's eyes lit up. She snatched the box and tore the wrapping paper like a child on Christmas morning. She flipped open the lid.

And then her face changed.

Her smile vanished. Her brows drew together. Her lips parted, then pressed into a thin, furious line. A flush crept up her neck. She stared at the gift—then at me—then back at the gift. Her breathing quickened. Her hands began to tremble around the box.

"This is..." she started, voice low and shaking. She couldn't even finish the sentence. Her jaw tightened. Her eyes glistened—not with tears, but with pure rage.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Ivy shrieked, her voice cracking with fury.