CH.2

EVANGELINE

The silence that followed was deafening.

We were alone now… this stranger who would become my husband, and I had no idea what to say or do.

His eyes seemed to catalog every inch of me. The subtle scent of his cologne, the predatory stillness with which he held himself.

"Have you finished your meditation session?" He finally broke the stillness.

"Excuse me?" The words came out sharper than intended, confusion evident in my voice.

I mentally slapped myself for the foolish response, for letting him see how easily he could rattle me.

He moved toward me with predatory grace, and I instinctively stepped backward until the wall trapped me, leaving nowhere else to retreat.

He continued advancing until mere inches separated us and his masculine scent filling my senses, making my head spin with unwanted awareness.

"Look at me!"

His commanding tone rankled, stirred something rebellious in my chest, yet my eyes rose to meet his dark gaze obediently.

I hated how easily he could make me comply, how his presence seemed to override my own will.

"I don't have all day to wait for you!" He said icily.

I pressed my lips together in embarrassment, a nervous habit I'd never been able to break in years of trying.

His eyes tracked the movement, alternating between my mouth and my eyes with an intensity that made my skin burn with unwanted heat.

Mortification washed over me when I realized how the gesture might appear, what he might think I was suggesting.

"No, that's not what I was thinking!" The words tumbled over each other in my haste to clarify. "I wasn't going to kiss you, I swear! It's just a nervous habit, nothing more!"

His face returned to its usual stoic mask, watching me with calm detachment while I floundered in my embarrassment like a fish out of water.

"Are you finished?"

My features hardened with frustration at his continued coldness, at his complete lack of understanding or compassion. "Will you stop humiliating me at every opportunity?"

"You humiliate yourself!" His response was delivered mercilessly.

"Let's go." He stepped back, preparing to leave, dismissing me as if I were nothing more than an inconvenience.

I had no choice but to follow, albeit struggling to match his long strides in my heels and feeling like a child trying to keep up with an adult's pace.

"Excuse me, could you slow down? I'm wearing heels and I'm afraid I might..."

My heel suddenly caught in the plush carpet, sending me tumbling forward with a cry of alarm. However, strong hands caught my arms, pulling me against his chest with enough force to knock the breath from my lungs.

For a moment, we stood frozen with my hands pressed to his chest and his arms around my waist, close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes.

"Are you a child? You can't even walk properly!" His harsh tone ignited my temper like a match to gasoline.

I yanked my arm free with more force than necessary, stepping back to create distance between us. "Mr. Dettling, don't mistake my politeness for weakness. I won't tolerate rudeness from anyone, including you. You're already crossing the line!"

"What exactly are you going to do about it?" His voice was soft, dangerous, like silk wrapped around steel.

Why did he have to be so provocative? What would he gain from making me angry?

He closed the gap between us again until his lips were near my ear. "Run away while you still can, because I won't show you mercy once we're married!" His whispered words sent ice through my veins.

I watched his retreating form in stunned silence, rooted to the spot like a statue while his words echoed in my mind like a death sentence.

Should I end this engagement? Tell Father I couldn't go through with marrying this man who clearly despised me?

The thought of disappointing my parents made my chest tighten with guilt, while the alternative seemed increasingly unbearable.

This was my fault for accepting too hastily in the first place, for not considering the consequences of binding my life to a stranger. Now I was drowning in consequences I'd never anticipated, trapped in a situation of my own making.

Growing up, I never mastered the art of refusal. The word "no" felt foreign on my tongue, heavy with the weight of disappointment I might cause others.

My childhood was spent in an environment where declining requests were considered the height of rudeness, where compliance was praised and resistance was scorned.

Friends exploited this weakness without hesitation. They'd slide their homework across my desk with expectant smiles, knowing I'd complete it without complaint. During exams, desperate whispers would reach my ears, begging for answers I'd reluctantly provide. Each time, my response remained predictably the same: a reluctant nod, a quiet acceptance of their demands.

This wasn't weakness, I told myself repeatedly. This was simply who I was. Someone raised to prioritize others' comfort over my own desires.

The pattern became so deeply ingrained I began to despise this part of myself, yearning desperately to break free from these invisible chains that bound me to everyone else's expectations.

What happens when the most important person in your life makes a request that'll determine your entire future? When saying yes means sacrificing everything you've ever dreamed of, while saying no means crushing the hopes of someone you love more than life itself?

A trembling sigh escaped my lips as Father's words replayed endlessly in my mind. The subject of marriage to Gael Dettling had struck me like lightning on a clear day, leaving me stunned, breathless and completely unprepared for the magnitude of what he was asking.

Father hadn't forced the decision on me, not exactly. "Take your time, Evangeline," he'd said with gentle patience. "Think it through carefully. This is your life we're discussing."

Arthur Dettling was undeniably a good man. Father's oldest friend and his most trusted business partner.

Their relationship spanned decades, built on mutual respect, shared success and unwavering loyalty. His son, however, remained a complete mystery to me.

I knew nothing about Gael beyond fragments of Father's stories and the media. I hadn't even glimpsed his face in person. He existed only as a shadow figure in conversations, about to become my husband.

Did he want this marriage? Were arranged unions still common in our modern world? What if we realize we couldn't stand each other? Would we simply part ways, pretend the whole thing never happened? What if he turned out to be cruel, treating me with contempt rather than the kindness I desperately craved? These countless questions tormented my restless mind during sleepless nights.