Page 6

It was difficult to remember the last time Dad called me twice in the same week, let alone right after going out for the evening together.

We had an unspoken understanding between us: he had his work, and I had mine. There wasn’t any pressure to reach out unless one of us needed something. More often than not, it was him calling in the occasional favor or two, or checking to make sure I was still alive.

The two of us were both busy, and while the check-ins felt somewhat obligatory, I was used to the limited contact.

But the fact that he was calling me again so soon after the charity gala struck me as strange.

It wasn’t unwelcome, but unusual.

Regardless, I brought the phone to my ear and murmured my greeting while taking my break behind the cafe.

“Ah, good…looks like I caught you at the right time,” Dad said, using a slighter warmer tone than usual. He was normally neutral, if not slightly brighter, given the fact that he was my father, but never quite like this, almost like he was eager to hear from me again. “How are you, dear?”

“I’m fine,” I returned with a hint of caution in my tone. “Just busy at work.”

“Nothing unusual for you then,” he said with a small chuckle. “Listen, I’m calling to ask if you have some time to spare for your old man. How about we go for lunch?”

Going quiet for a moment, I blinked through the brief surprise and mild confusion that overcame me. Lunch? Just a casual, unassuming lunch?

Maybe that shouldn’t have caught me off guard, but that wasn’t usually something we did. We never just went out to eat for the sake of it.

As much as my knee-jerk reaction was to say I couldn’t and just continue with my day, there was something in his voice that made me pause and consider it.

Perhaps it was him asking, not telling…or maybe it was the fact that he was taking the time to check in on me beyond any obligation.

Before I could stop it, my heartstrings were pulled.

“Yeah…sure. Where were you thinking?”

His voice reached me with immediate satisfaction. “No need to worry yourself about it. I’ll make the reservation and pick you up as soon as your shift is over.”

A faint sense of hesitation lingered just beneath my skin, and something in the back of my mind didn’t feel entirely settled about the whole thing. Part of me wanted to ask him what was going on, but I didn’t want to be rude.

Besides, I wasn’t prepared to look like the worst daughter in the world by declining a simple lunch.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon, then,” I confirmed, unable to shake the lingering curiosity clinging to me.

“Excellent…I look forward to it, as I always do.”

The positive note in his words did something to quell the faint worry within me, and after a short exchange of parting words, we both ended the call.

I stood there for another moment, still questioning where it was all coming from.

Normally, if we did meet up, he would talk some kind of business, usually business that had nothing to do with me.

But the way he spoke made it sound like he had no interest in talking shop. He did seem genuinely excited, which felt even more surprising.

Before long, my morning shift came to an end, and Dad swung by with his driver. He greeted me with increased enthusiasm, more like I was the precious gem of his life than the daughter he checked up on every once in a while.

It was strange, but also…nice, in a way.

As expected, we pulled up to an upscale bistro, and the driver was quick to open my door.

While that kind of courtesy wasn’t outside the norm, given the wealth Dad possessed, I could never quite get used to the lavish aspects of his life, how he glided through it all so casually, like it was second nature for him.

But I didn’t have a driver, a cook, or anyone to clean my tiny apartment. I was sure I could have it all if I asked for it, but that wasn’t like me.

It was his lifestyle…not mine.

Dad was dressed as finely as usual in his tailored suit, letting me know he likely came from some sort of meeting. He kept his hair neatly slicked back, giving off a certain air of authority and importance I was used to seeing.

Once seated outside on a small terrace, we were presented with our respective drinks before his gaze settled on me with a tenderness that seemed sincere.

“I’m glad you could come, my dear…it’s always nice to see you.”

There shouldn’t have been anything alarming in those gentle words, but for whatever reason, I couldn’t stop myself from questioning why he was being more outwardly caring toward me.

Try as I might, I couldn’t put my finger on why he was putting me on edge, or why he was being so affectionate in the first place.

We never exactly had problems with one another, but we weren’t the closest or the warmest. A cold front had always been between us, given how busy he’d always been when I was growing up.

His work received more of his attention than I did, and he didn’t try overly hard to make up for it, but that didn’t mean he was unkind to me. He provided for me, and he acknowledged me as his child, but beyond that, some days it felt more like I was a work associate—something to be cared for, but not necessarily surrounded by deeper affection.

It was strange compared to how other families operated, but it was normal enough for me.

So seeing him looking so content at my presence, almost like it was something he had been missing, was jarring.

“This is a rare thing for us, I know that,” Dad said, not afraid to let the occasional beat of silence linger between us. “But I appreciate you making the time for me.”

The sincerity in his tone put a stitch of worry in my mind, wondering if there was something else spurring this on. Potentially something that warranted him making an effort.

As guarded as I felt, I had the feeling he was trying to bridge the gap in our vaguely strained relationship.

It wouldn’t be the most outrageous thing. He was getting older, and knowing how tense things were between him and Mom, I could only imagine he had more time to think than usual. To dwell on the past and potentially wish for a better future.

Even if it seemed out of the blue, I couldn’t deny that it felt nice.

My dad was an impressive person, after all, and it wasn’t the worst thing to have more of his time.

Given how much he seemed to look forward to seeing me, I had every reason to believe he was just lonely.

“I don’t mind a bit of a change in my usual routine,” I said as our food eventually came out and was placed in front of us.

He gave me a small smile at that and nodded, almost in a diplomatic way. “I’m glad to hear it.”

We ate in pockets of quiet, broken up by small talk, not hitting any topics of much note. He asked about work, my projects, and how I was overall. I answered like I normally did, giving him enough substance to work with but not enough to overshare.

I didn’t think he minded my brief responses, at least. He tended to get right to the point with most things and appreciated when others did the same.

Dad was curious, but not deeply so. At the very least, I didn’t mind it, either.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about something lately, Tatiana,” he said after some time, once our plates were cleared and he was sipping from his coffee. The subtle shift in his features made my stomach tighten. He was becoming business-like again.

I held his gaze with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. “About what?”

“Your future.”

My brows furrowed slightly. “My future…why?”

Dad looked me over for a moment before leaning back in his seat and sighing to himself. “You’ve grown into quite the young woman, you know…and I believe it’s time you considered taking up your role.”

“My role?”

He nodded and folded his hands together in his lap. “Yes, your role. I’ve been talking with a few associates of mine about making some arrangements…one in particular I think you’d take too well.”

Despite saying more, it felt like he was giving me less, and I was more confused than ever.

“Dad, what are you talking about?”

“Look, dear, I’ll be blunt with you; I’ve done my best to let you go off and experience the city on your own. You’ve been working hard, and I see that, but I believe it would be for the best if you married someone who could take away that stress for you. This way, you won’t need to work quite so hard,” he went on, as if proposing the solution I hadn’t been looking for. “There’s no reason for you to struggle…not when I have everything already set up for you.”

Blinking back at him, astonished and feeling the faint prickle of dread moving through my system, I put out a nervous chuckle, bordering on incredulous. “You’re kidding, right?”

His expression was stone-cold, giving away no humor. “I’m serious, Tatiana. It’s been decided, and the agreement has already been signed…you will marry Valentin Novikov.”

Everything around me came to a screeching halt at the mention of his name.

Valentin. As in, Val from the gala.

Even hearing those words connected in the same sentence felt like a slap to the face while it cut through my disbelief. I had the feeling an actual slap would’ve hurt less.

I was supposed to marry him?

I shook my head and could do nothing to wrap my head around it.

“What are you talking about? How…what makes you think you can decide that for me?” I questioned, struggling to stay afloat in the confusion.

Dad sighed, and the previous tenderness slipped away, revealing at last his true intention behind it all. Behind his efforts. “I know you’ve gotten used to your freedom, but this isn’t up for discussion. This is for the best for everyone involved.”

My heart pounded against my ribs, and for a moment, I couldn’t feel my legs, even while sitting.

There was no way…it sounded insane, almost like he was speaking absolute gibberish.

The best for everyone involved…how was that possibly the truth?

So many questions were sitting at the forefront of my mind, but I couldn’t form the words to get them out. He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t be.

“How did you ever think I’d be okay with this? This is insane,” I returned, feeling as my hands shook beneath the table.

“You don’t need to be okay with it, my dear. Just accept your responsibility. I promise you, everything will be taken care of. You won’t need to work a day in your life again.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Not working is supposed to fix the fact that you want me to marry someone I’ve spoken to once?” I demanded, feeling the anger and fear melding together in my chest. “Do you know what year it is?”

Dad sighed again, tone vaguely dismissive, like he didn’t want the conversation to stretch on too long. “It’s for the family. For the business. As you can surely guess, Valentin and the other Novikovs are well-connected. His influence and wealth will ensure you’re well taken care of.”

Business…

How was a marriage possibly about business? How did that have anything to do with his work?

I stared at him with nothing short of a dumbfounded expression. “This is my life, Dad, not a business deal. You can’t just…make arrangements like this for me and assume it’s fine.”

My life…my future, my choices, my freedom. It all meant as much as a monetary play to him—that much was clear.

Every part of me wanted to scream and push back against him, but one look at his face told me everything I needed to know.

It wasn’t up for debate.

After a long stretch of silence pulsed between us, I swallowed hard and shook my head. “I’m not doing this…I won’t.”

As much as it seemed like he wanted to soften the blow, his eyes only hardened a touch more. “You don’t have a choice. Not anymore. There’s no need to make a scene here.”

Those words stung harder than anything I had experienced before, and that betrayal sat heavily in my chest.

Without thinking, I stood, scraping the chair back against the stone terrace. “No…this is ridiculous. I’m not something you can negotiate over. I won’t—”

But just as I lifted my gaze with the intention of leaving, two guards with heavy, burly builds crowded me, forcing my head up just to look at them. They completely blocked the way out.

A flicker of fear raced through me, kickstarting my heart. I couldn’t leave.

While dread consumed me, I glanced at Dad, suddenly seeing nothing but the cold and calculating business tycoon underneath.

“I’m sorry, Tatiana…but you will marry Valentin Novikov.”