The Ties That Bind

Seth Robinson slammed the phone down harder than necessary, his jaw tight. Across from him, Aretha lounged on the velvet sofa, twirling a lock of her hair nervously, her earlier smugness erased.

"You heard her," Seth muttered, pacing the room. "That tone... It was cold and dismissive. She's slipping away." Aretha crossed her arms. "I told you we were pushing her too hard. Treating her like a disposable pawn was bound to backfire."

They both knew the unspoken truth: without Arla-Rosa, they were nothing. Seth’s company, once the laughingstock among the Robinson brothers, had surged to the top only because of her quiet genius. Aretha had hitched her wagon to Seth's star, expecting a life of luxury once he inherited the empire. If Arla-Rosa walked away now, their dreams would crumble into dust.

"We have to pacify her," Aretha said, with a sharpness in her voice that defied any argument. "No more cold shoulders, no more snide remarks. You have to make her believe she's everything to you."

Seth nodded grimly, the wheels in his mind already turning. "I'll give her the fairy tale she wants. A gown, jewelry, dinner at somewhere outrageously expensive... and then the ring." Aretha raised a brow. "You're proposing?"

"Of course." Seth smirked. "Lock her down before she has time to remember who she really is." A twinge of jealousy spread in Aretha's heart but she forced it down before asking, "And the engagement party?"

"In three months. Long enough to cement the illusion, short enough to keep her from growing suspicious." Seth responded with an unmistakable calculative glint in his eyes. For the first time that evening, Aretha allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. "You always did know how to bait a hook, Seth."

He shrugged, adjusting his cufflinks. "It's not like I’m lying. She’ll have everything she could ever want... except the truth." As if to ease his frustrations, Seth pulled Aretha Santon into his arms and kissed her senseless. It was only when they were both out of breath that they separated.

Later that evening, when Arla-Rosa opened her door to find the stunning gown, the glittering jewelry, and Seth’s carefully scripted note, her heart skipped a beat. Somewhere deep inside, a small voice, the voice of reason, whispered that something was wrong. But for now, she silenced it. And Seth, standing in the shadows of her life, smiled to himself. The game wasn’t over yet.

The following evening, just as the city bathed itself in the warm glow of twilight, Arla-Rosa found herself standing before a full-length mirror, stunned. Draped over her was an elegant, deep blue evening gown that complemented her delicate figure perfectly. A matching set of jewelry, a simple yet exquisite sapphire pendant and earrings, adorned her. In her hand was a clutch of the same shade, and at her feet, glittered new stilettos.

All of this had arrived at her doorstep with a card penned in Seth’s familiar handwriting: "Wear these tonight. I'll be waiting."

Despite the exhaustion from the surgery the day before, despite the lingering doubts planted by Master Ye’s firm reprimand and the taxi driver's odd wisdom, Arla-Rosa's heart fluttered with a dangerous hope. Maybe... Just maybe, she had been too suspicious. Maybe Seth truly cared.

He was waiting for her at a luxurious restaurant downtown, one she had only ever seen in magazines. The head waiter personally ushered her in, and there Seth stood, handsome in a tailored suit, holding a bouquet of blue roses. "You look breathtaking," he said, his voice softer than usual. "Come."

Throughout the dinner, Seth was unusually attentive, cutting her steak, refilling her glass, brushing invisible crumbs off her dress. Every word, every glance was tender, affectionate, and quite intoxicating.

And then, as dessert was served, Seth rose from his seat. With a dramatic flourish, he drew a small box from his pocket, went down on one knee, and opened it to reveal a glittering diamond ring.

"Arla-Rosa Hernandez," he said, his voice just the right pitch to spread across the hushed restaurant, "you've been my light in the darkest days. I don't want to ever be without you. Will you marry me?"

A collective gasp rose from the diners. Tears sprang to Arla-Rosa’s eyes. Her mind screamed warnings, Remember Master Ye’s words! but her heart, battered and craving affection, overruled reason. With trembling fingers, she allowed Seth to slip the ring onto her hand.

He kissed her knuckles reverently before pulling her into a warm embrace. Against her ear, he whispered, "We'll plan the engagement party in three months. I want the world to know you're mine." That night, Arla-Rosa fell asleep clutching the ring, a smile on her face.

She did not see the flicker of calculation in Seth’s eyes as he gazed down at her during dinner. Nor did she hear the mocking sneer in her sister Aretha's voice as she called Seth later that night, congratulating him for "securing the ultimate prize." For now, Arla-Rosa floated in a blissful ignorance, blissfully unaware of the web tightening around her.