All Chapters of My Fiancé's Father Wants Me: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Elara's POV,It was the first day of classes, and I still couldn't stop thinking about him.Which, in itself, was a problem. Because I don't obsess over men. I don't replay conversations in my head or linger on moments that don't matter. I don't let strangers especially ones I know nothing about, occupy this much space in my thoughts.And certainly not an older man. Yet, somehow, I couldn't seem to let it go.The elevator. The way he looked at me. The way he spoke, controlled as though he had already decided something about me before I had even opened my mouth.It was... unsettling. And completely out of character for me. I exhaled quietly, trying to focus as I walked across campus.Both Lila and I attended NYU, though our paths rarely crossed academically. I was majoring in Financial Technology as a good Sinclair child. Lila, on the other hand, was a Public Relations major, which suited her perfectly.We shared only one elective and today wasn't one of those days. My only class ended

Elara's POVThe next morning, it all came back.Not in fragments, not in pieces, but all at once, clear and vivid in a way that made it impossible to dismiss as something insignificant or fleeting. Every look, every word, every second replayed itself. I had gone out to see Ryan.That had been the plan simple, harmless. And yet, somehow, I had ended up upstairs, alone, with a man whose name I didn't even know, allowing something to happen that I couldn't explain, not in a way that made sense, not in a way that fit into the version of myself I had always understood.I don't know how but I manage to get to class, even though I couldn't stop thinking of the way he had looked at me. The way he touched me and the way I hadn't stopped him.After my class today, I call Paul to come pick me up. I wanted to stop home and see my grandpa. I try to see him at least once every week when I'm in school. He's always like, "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be in school?" but secretly I think he likes t

Elara's POV"Nice to meet you, Elara." His voice was calm.Too calm, like nothing had happened. It was crazy, like last night didn't exist.Like I hadn't—It was hard to breathe, I had to forced breath into my lungs. My fingers still curled tightly around Ryan's arm as I tried to steady myself, I was afraid I would fall if I let go."Nice to meet you too," I finally said realizing they were all waiting for me, and I almost didn't recognize my own voice.Victor Whitmore held my gaze for a fraction longer than necessary, just enough for me to feel it settle somewhere deep and unsettling before he finally looked away, shifting his attention to the rest of the table as though nothing about this moment was out of the ordinary.But it was.Everything about it was."Sit, sit," Courtney said lightly, gesturing toward the empty chairs as if we weren't all standing in the middle of something that only two of us understood.Ryan guided me down beside him, his hand lingering briefly at my back be

Elara's POVThe next day, I had a full glam squad help me and grandmere get ready for the Whitmore event. By the time we arrived at the Whitmore estate, Guests were already arriving in a steady flow, luxury cars pulling up one after another, attendants opening doors, voices blending into a low hum of conversation and laughter that carried through the evening air. The venue was glowing softly, perfectly decorated.I stepped out beside my grandmother, smoothing my hands lightly over the emerald dress, the fabric catching the light just enough to draw attention.“Stand straight,” my grandmother murmured softly beside me, her tone always serious, and I adjusted instinctively, lifting my chin just slightly, my posture falling into place without thought seamlessly because this isn't new to me.“Yes, Grandmère,” I replied, my voice calm.She glanced at me then, her eyes scanning me from head to toe, assessing, approving, before giving a small nod that told me I had done well.“You look beaut

Elara's POV,I had called my grandmother after Ryan left to confirm what he said about the foundation, and of course, he was right. It annoyed me so badly that no one had bothered telling me anything beforehand, that I was simply expected to show up and do whatever had already been decided for me.I had classes, assignments, an actual life outside of my family's expectations, but according to my grandmother, none of that was as important as my duty as the future Mrs. Whitmore. I was still expected to graduate college, maintain the perfect public image, and somehow seamlessly prepare to become a wife at the same time, as though all of it should come naturally to me simply because I was born a Sinclair.Lately, I had been feeling increasingly frustrated with my life, with the fact that so much of it had already been mapped out before I was old enough to understand what it meant. Moments like this always made me wonder what things would have been like if my parents had lived. Would they