Althea's POV:

"I refuse, Daddy! I won’t agree to your plans!" The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them, my voice sharp with defiance. The anger bubbling inside me had finally boiled over, and I wasn’t about to back down now, not after everything.

My father’s gaze snapped toward me, his jaw tightening. His cold, unyielding expression could freeze anyone in place, but I wasn’t about to be the one to flinch. Not this time.

"You don’t have a choice, Thea." His voice was like steel, cutting through the air with finality. "This is my decision, and your only role is to follow it. No questions. No delays."

I felt a wave of heat rush to my face as my chest tightened with frustration. My hands clenched into fists beneath the table, nails digging into my palms as I fought to keep my composure. Tears threatened to spill, but I refused to let them show. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he could break me.

"You can’t force me to marry that man, Dad!" My voice trembled with emotion, but my resolve held firm. "I’ll marry someone I love. Someone who loves me in return."

The table rattled as my father slammed his silverware down with a force that made the air in the room thicken. His face flushed a deep shade of crimson as he leaned forward, eyes blazing with fury. "Don’t test me, Thea. You know what happens when you disobey me. Everything I do is for your future! Do you understand that?"

His words hung in the air like a heavyweight, but I refused to bow under them. "My future? Or is it just about making the family even richer?" I shot back, my voice dripping with bitterness. "We’re already wealthy, Dad. Why do I have to sacrifice my happiness just to merge our companies? Are we not capable of growing on our own?"

The muscles in his neck tensed as he leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing to slits. "I need someone who can manage our company, someone I can trust to take over when I’m gone. That son of my business partner is the best option. He’s a good man, Thea. You’ll be in good hands. Trust me. I’m doing this for you."

I could feel my heart rate spike. I wanted to scream, to throw everything in his face, everything I had worked for, everything I had built on my own. He had no idea what I was capable of, and he probably never would.

"I’m sorry, Dad, but I can’t follow you on this," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "I have my own life, my own decisions. I’m your daughter, but I’m not your puppet. I need to live for myself. And this?" I gestured toward the table, the idea of the arranged marriage. "It’s not me. It’s never going to be me."

I stood up, the chair scraping loudly across the floor. "Excuse me, Mom, Dad. I’ve lost my appetite." Without another word, I turned on my heel and started toward the door. But my father’s voice stopped me cold.

"You're disobeying me, Thea? Go ahead, try it. You know what will happen if you do." His words were low, venomous. "And don’t think you’ll be leaving this house anytime soon. From now on, you’re not allowed to leave. Do you understand?"

I turned back, locking eyes with him. His face was still contorted with rage, but I refused to look away. "I was raised by strong parents who taught me to be independent and fight for myself. Do you really think your threats will scare me, Dad?" I asked, my voice steady though my heart raced in my chest.

Behind him, my mother stood up, her hand gently placed on his shoulder. "Calm down, honey. Don't stress yourself too much. Give Thea some time to think it over," she said softly, her voice trying to smooth over the tension.

My father scowled at her but didn’t argue. "How can I calm down, Elizabeth? Our daughter is too stubborn for her own good!"

I felt the heat of his anger burning through me, but I managed to ignore it as I walked out of the dining room, heading upstairs to my room. I had just returned from Paris, and this was the warm welcome I got. The day had started with excitement, and now it had turned into a nightmare.

I slammed the door shut behind me and collapsed onto my bed. My mind raced, my pulse quickened. How could he be doing this? How could he just assume I’d fall in line? I didn’t even know this guy, the man he was trying to force on me. I didn’t care how many times he mentioned his business partner’s son or how "good" this man was. I wasn’t a commodity to be bartered.

"Who is this guy anyway?" I muttered, frustration gnawing at my insides. The whole thing felt like a setup, a deal to expand our empire, my happiness be damned. But I wasn’t going to let him win. Not this time.

A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts.

"Who’s there?" I called out, my voice laced with annoyance.

"It’s me, honey... your mum. Can I come in?" Her voice was soft, almost pleading.

I sighed, not in the mood for a heart-to-heart right now. "I’d rather be alone, Mum. We can talk later."

"Just a quick chat, Honey. Please," she insisted, her tone gentle but firm.

I rolled my eyes and dragged myself off the bed to open the door. There was no getting out of it.

"What is it, Mum?" I asked, trying to keep my irritation in check.

Her smile was warm, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. She reached up to touch my cheek, her fingers soft against my skin. "Can I come in, Honey?"

I stepped aside, letting her enter, though I didn’t feel like talking. My mother walked over to the bed and sat down, patting the spot next to her. It was the same gesture she had used when I was younger, whenever I was upset or anxious. I knew what was coming. Another lecture about how I should give in and make my father happy.

She patted her lap. "Come here, darling. Lie down for a bit."

I hesitated, but reluctantly climbed onto the bed, laying my head in her lap. The familiarity of the gesture should have been comforting, but instead, it felt like a chain around my neck. She began to brush my hair, a soft rhythm that had always calmed me. But not today. Not with everything hanging over me like a dark cloud.

"Honey, can’t you at least consider your dad's decision?" Her voice was soft, almost pleading. "He only wants what's best for you. He loves you, you know that."

The words stung, not because they weren’t true, but because they made me feel small. Like my dreams, my ambitions didn't matter. I turned my face into her lap, trying to hide the emotions threatening to spill.

"Even you, Mum?" My voice was thick with disappointment. "How can you side with him on this?"

She sighed, her hand still running through my hair. "I just want you to think about it, honey. That’s all I ask."

I squeezed my eyes shut, the weight of it all pressing on my chest. I didn’t want to disappoint them, but I couldn’t, I wouldn’t, marry someone I didn’t love. Not like this.

Elizabeth’s POV:

I felt a lump form in my throat as I watched her eyes narrow. The weight of her silence was almost too much to bear. She stood there, arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line, as if she were trying to hold her thoughts inside. I wanted to reach out to her, to pull her into a hug and tell her everything would be okay, but I knew she wasn’t ready for that. She was too angry, too confused. And honestly, I couldn’t blame her.

"Mom," she said, her voice thick with a mix of frustration and hurt, "why are you pushing me like this? Why does it always feel like you're trying to make decisions for me?"

I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat. What could I say to that? What could I say to ease the growing rift between us? She was right, in a way. I had always tried to protect her, to guide her. But somewhere along the way, I had crossed a line. I had become the one who was making choices for her, instead of letting her make them for herself.

"We are not trying to control you, Thea," I whispered, my voice shaking slightly. "I just want what's best for you. And sometimes, that means making hard decisions."

Her eyes flickered with something between anger and sadness. "But your idea of what's best for me isn’t always what I need, is it?" Her words stung like a slap, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond.

I watched her walk toward the window, her back turned to me. The pain in her voice, the hurt in her eyes, made my chest ache. She was right. I had spent so much time worrying about the future, about security, that I hadn’t stopped listening to her, to really hear what she wanted, what she needed.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "I just want you to be happy, sweetheart. I want you to feel safe and secure. James might not be the person you thought you’d end up with, but I truly believe he’s a good match for you."

She didn’t turn around, didn’t acknowledge my words. Instead, she kept staring out the window, the silence stretching between us like a chasm that was impossible to cross.

I sighed softly, stepping closer to her. "I know you’re upset. I know you think I’m pushing too hard. But please, just think about it. For me?"

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know if I can do that, Mom."

My heart shattered a little at her words. How had we gotten here? How had this distance, this tension, crept into our relationship? I wanted to scream, to beg her to understand, but I knew it wouldn’t help. All I could do was be patient, and wait for her to come to terms with everything, when she was ready.

And maybe, just maybe, that was the hardest part.

Althea's POV:

I stared at my mother, her hand warm on mine, but it didn’t feel like enough to ease the tightness in my chest. Her eyes were soft, like she was trying to reassure me, but there was something heavy in the air. The words she said, "James is a good man", echoed in my mind, but they felt hollow. I wanted to believe her. I really did. But the thought of this marriage, this life she was pushing on me, made my insides twist.

I couldn't help it; I felt like I was drowning. The thought of waking up every day with someone I didn’t know, someone I didn’t choose, it terrified me. My throat tightened as I tried to swallow the lump forming there. My fingers curled around hers, but the warmth didn’t help, didn’t make me feel safer.

"You can’t make me do this," I muttered, more to myself than to her. But the words felt too quiet, too small. Could I really stand up to her? Could I stand up to this life she was trying to force me into?

"You don’t understand," I said, my voice trembling now. I was angry, frustrated, scared, all at once. "I want more than this. I want a choice. I want a life that feels real, not something that’s just... handed to me."

Her gaze softened, but it didn’t make me feel any better. In fact, it made it worse. "You don’t know him like I do," she said, her voice gentle, but firm.

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back tears. I didn’t want to be this weak, but everything felt so out of control. "I don’t care about him. I care about me," I said, almost pleading now. The future felt like a massive unknown, and it terrified me. I didn’t know where I was headed, but I knew one thing, I wasn’t going down without a fight.

My hands clenched into fists, and my chest ached with the weight of everything I was holding in. I would not give up on the life I wanted, no matter how much it scared me. And right now, it scared me more than anything else.