CHAPTER 5 - THE ANNOUNCEMENT

~ Adrian ~

I woke up with a pounding headache, the kind that makes every little sound feel like a jackhammer. My mouth was dry, my skin felt sticky, and my suit from last night was crumpled in a way that would usually drive me crazy.

I sat up slowly, trying to pull myself together. The curtains were drawn, and a faint hint of perfume lingered in the air. The bed was a mess, but honestly, I wasn’t in the right headspace to care about the details.

I couldn’t remember much from the night before—just flashes of overwhelming noise, a strong scent, and the kind of chaos I usually avoided. I hated feeling this way, so out of control. That alone pushed me to get out of there as fast as I could.

I pushed myself up, straightened my clothes as best as I could, and left without looking back.

By the time I got back to the villa, the sun was already blazing in the sky. My mother was in the living room, sitting there with an air of elegance as if she had been waiting for me forever.

“Adrian,” she said sharply as soon as I walked in, her eyes narrowing at my disheveled look. “What on earth happened to you?”

I decided to keep my mouth shut. I just didn’t have the energy to deal with her endless questions, especially with my head pounding like a drum. So, I rushed past her, bounding up the stairs until I finally reached my room.

I quickly peeled off my clothes, hopped into the shower, and let the water wash away the remnants of the night before. When I stepped out, I collapsed onto the bed, and sleep took me almost instantly.

It was already evening when I finally woke up again. A persistent hunger tugged at me, urging me to head downstairs, even though I wasn’t exactly thrilled about being around people. But as soon as I walked into the dining hall, I realized there was no way to avoid it.

My dad was at the head of the table, with my mom right next to him. Across from them sat some familiar faces—the Moreno family. Mr. and Mrs. Moreno were there, along with their daughter, Isabella Moreno.

I hadn’t seen Isabella in years. She looked stunning, perfectly dressed, her hair styled to perfection, and her smile was polite but felt a bit forced. We had grown up together, our families connected through business and social ties. She had always been the type to follow the rules, charm the right people, and fit into the mold effortlessly.

I greeted everyone with the usual politeness and settled into my seat. As the meal was served, I started to eat, hoping the dinner would wrap up quickly.

But of course, my father had other plans.

He set his glass down with a sharp clink, demanding everyone’s attention. “Adrian,” he began, his voice steady and commanding, “we have a serious matter to discuss.”

I looked up, a knot of anxiety forming in my stomach. “What’s going on?”

He exchanged a glance with Mr. Moreno before continuing. “Both families have agreed that it’s time to move forward. You and Isabella will be engaged.”

I was stunned, my fork frozen in mid-air. “What?”

“You heard me,” my father replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “The Morenos and we believe this is the perfect match. It’s a union that will benefit both families immensely. Isabella is a wonderful young woman—charming, well-bred, and from a respected family. There’s nothing to argue about.”

My jaw clenched. A wave of heat surged through me, not from embarrassment but from anger. “You made this decision without even asking me?”

“This isn’t about asking you,” my father shot back, his voice icy. “It’s about securing our future. Our businesses, our reputations, our families. This engagement is happening.”

I turned to Isabella, who gave me a small, almost apologetic smile, as if she wanted to stay out of the fray but didn’t quite know how to say no. But of course, she wouldn’t. Isabella had always been good at just going with the flow.

I pushed my chair back from the table, the screech of it against the floor cutting through the tension. "No," I said, my voice steady. "You can decide the future of your company, Father, but not mine. I won’t be forced into this."

"Adrian.." my mother started, but I was already on my feet.

"I said no," I repeated, then walked out of the dining room without looking back. My father’s voice followed me, cold and commanding, but I didn’t stop.

I needed fresh air. Space to think. Anything but the suffocating weight of decisions being made for me.