Chapter 3

Brandon’s POV

The café smelled like fresh espresso and vanilla, the kind of scent that usually made me feel warm and relaxed. But today, my stomach was a tangled mess of nerves, and I couldn’t care less about the comforting aroma. My fingers drummed an impatient rhythm against the wooden table, my knee bouncing beneath it. Every few seconds, my eyes flickered toward the entrance, scanning the people walking in.

Cameron was late.

I wasn’t surprised. If it were up to him, he probably wouldn’t have shown up at all.

I clenched my jaw, glancing at the time on my phone for what had to be the tenth time in the last five minutes. He was pushing it. If he thought I was going to sit here all day, waiting on him like I had nothing better to do, he was dead wrong.

The bell above the café door chimed, and my pulse spiked before I could stop it.

There he was.

Cameron Aston.

Even if I hadn’t been waiting for him, I still would’ve noticed him the second he walked in. He had that kind of presence—the kind that turned heads without even trying. His sharp blue eyes swept across the café, taking in his surroundings like he was walking into enemy territory. When his gaze landed on me, his scowl deepened, like just seeing me was some kind of personal offense.

Classic Cameron.

Hands shoved into his pockets, he stalked over with the kind of confidence that screamed money, power, and maybe just a little bit of entitlement. He didn’t pause. Didn’t greet me. He just dropped into the seat across from me, his movements sharp, like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“You don’t want this either, right? This stupid wedding nonsense” His voice was clipped, straight to the point.

Seems like the little fucker doesn't have manners. No hello, no how have you been? Not that I expected anything different anyway.

I hesitated, keeping my expression neutral. If I told him the truth—that this engagement was something I wanted and also something I planned from the start —he’d probably throw my coffee in my face and smash my head against table.

So, I went with the safest response.

“I don’t know,” I said, swirling my half-empty coffee cup. “It’s all arranged by my parents.”

Cameron scoffed, shaking his head. “Right. Of course. Because we don’t get a damn say in our own lives.”

I didn’t respond because… well, what could I even say? It wasn’t like he was wrong.

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, jaw clenched. “Well, I do have a say, and I’m telling you right now—I’m not doing this. You need to tell your parents no. Tell them you’re against this just like I am.”

I tightened my grip on my cup, feeling the heat seep into my palms. I had expected this reaction. I was prepared for it. But that didn’t make hearing it any easier.

I forced a small, understanding smile. “I get it.”

Cameron studied me for a second, like he was trying to pick apart my words, find some hidden agenda. When he found nothing, he exhaled sharply and pushed back his chair.

“Good,” he muttered. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

He was already standing, already ready to walk out like this conversation was just a box he had to check off his to-do list.

I should’ve let him go.

But I didn’t.

“Wait,” I said, keeping my tone casual. “The desserts here are good. You sure you don’t wanna try them?”

Cameron blinked at me. Once. Twice. Then, he scoffed.

“You’re kidding, right?”

I shrugged. “What? Might as well enjoy something out of this mess.”

He gave me the most unimpressed look I’d ever seen. “Not happening,” he said flatly before turning on his heel and walking out.

I watched him go, fingers tapping against the table. That went exactly as I expected.

As soon as he was out of sight, I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my email. My fingers moved quickly across the screen.

To: Charles Aston

Subject: Cameron

Sir,

Cameron is completely against the engagement. He refuses to accept it.

How would you like me to proceed?

—Brandon

I hesitated for half a second before hitting send.

The reply came almost instantly.

Let me handle it.

I exhaled slowly, leaning back in my chair.

Cameron thought he had a choice. Thought his refusal actually meant something.

But soon, he’d understand the truth.

This marriage was happening.

Whether he liked it or not.