A week later, Amara was sitting in the living room, deeply focused on preparing the guest list for her older brother Leo’s wedding. The room was filled with the soft hum of conversation as her mother, Isabelle, and Leo himself offered their input. Isabelle’s elegant handwriting annotated the list with names and addresses, while Leo provided suggestions for who should sit where, ensuring that friends and family would be comfortably placed.
The serene atmosphere was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Vincent, Amara’s father, walked in, his presence commanding the room’s attention. “How are things?” he asked, his voice a deep, comforting rumble.
Amara looked up from the list and smiled. “Good, Dad. Just checking the guest list.”
Just then, a small voice piped up from the other side of the room. “Mommy, I want to invite my friends too,” said Vaughn, Amara’s young son, looking up at her with wide, expectant eyes.
Vincent chuckled and walked over to pick up Vaughn, lifting him into his arms effortlessly. “Of course, we are going to invite all the friends of my cute grandson,” he said, planting a kiss on Vaughn’s forehead. Vaughn giggled, wrapping his small arms around his grandfather’s neck. The sight brought a warm smile to Amara’s face.
“You know, Vaughn, you’re going to have so much fun at the wedding,” Vincent continued, swaying slightly as he held his grandson. “There will be music, dancing, and lots of yummy food.”
Vaughn’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “And cake, Grandpa! Don’t forget the cake!”
“How could I forget the cake?” Vincent replied, his voice filled with affection. “We’ll make sure there’s a big, delicious cake just for you.”
After a few more sweet exchanges, Vincent gently set Vaughn down and turned his attention back to Amara. His expression shifted to a more serious one as he said, “Amara, spend more time with Alessandro. After Leo’s wedding, I’m thinking of arranging your engagement.”
Amara’s smile faded slightly. “So soon?” she asked, her tone a mix of surprise and reluctance.
Vincent sighed, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Just an engagement for now, not the wedding. Go on dates, get to know him well. It’s important that you spend time together and see if there’s a connection.”
Amara nodded, though her heart wasn’t in it. She understood her father’s intentions, but Alessandro wasn’t someone she felt drawn to. Nevertheless, she knew her duty to the family and the importance of alliances.
Later that evening, Amara decided to reach out to Alessandro. She sent him a message, suggesting they meet for dinner at a quiet restaurant in the city. Alessandro responded quickly, agreeing to the date and suggesting a time.
As the day of the date approached, Amara found herself feeling increasingly apprehensive. She dressed elegantly but kept her look simple, reflecting her mixed feelings about the evening. When she arrived at the restaurant, Alessandro was already there, waiting for her with a smile.
“Amara,” he greeted her warmly, standing up to pull out her chair. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hi, Alessandro,” Amara replied, forcing a polite smile. “Thank you for meeting me.”
“Of course, Amara. It’s always a pleasure to see you,” Alessandro responded, his eyes lingering on her a bit longer than she was comfortable with. He pulled out her chair for her, a gesture that was gentlemanly, yet felt too formal for her liking.
As they sat down and started looking at the menus, Alessandro leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about our future together. Have you given any thought to where you’d like to go on our honeymoon?”
Amara felt her muscles tense. “I haven’t really thought about it yet,” she replied, trying to keep her tone neutral.
Alessandro chuckled softly. “Well, I’ve always imagined a romantic getaway to the Amalfi Coast. Crystal-clear waters, breathtaking views… it would be the perfect start to our life together.”
“That sounds… lovely,” Amara said, her voice trailing off. She could sense Alessandro’s enthusiasm, but her own feelings remained distant, detached.
Their conversation was interrupted momentarily as the waiter arrived to take their orders. Alessandro ordered confidently for both of them, a gesture that Amara found presumptuous. Once the waiter left, Alessandro’s demeanor shifted again, becoming more flirtatious.
“I can picture us there, you know,” he continued, his eyes locking onto hers. “Walking along the beach, enjoying candlelit dinners. Just you and me, escaping from everything.”
Amara nodded, her mind drifting. She knew Alessandro was trying to build a connection, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort. She tried to steer the conversation to safer topics, asking about his work and his recent travels. Alessandro answered, but always seemed to bring the topic back to their future together.
“Have you ever thought about where we’d live after the wedding?” he asked, his tone suggesting he already had plans in mind.
“Not really,” Amara admitted, keeping her responses brief.
“I was thinking a nice villa on the outskirts of the city. Something private, where we can build our own little world,” Alessandro said, his eyes twinkling with the vision he was painting.
Amara forced another smile. “That sounds… nice.”
As dinner progressed, Alessandro grew bolder. He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “Amara, I want you to know that I’m serious about us. I believe we can make this work and be happy together.”
Amara felt a pang of guilt. She knew he was trying, but her heart simply wasn’t in it. She gently pulled her hand away, pretending to adjust her napkin. “I appreciate that, Alessandro. It’s just a lot to take in right now.”
Alessandro seemed undeterred by her hesitation. “I understand. We have time to figure it all out.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But there’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while now.”
Before Amara could react, Alessandro leaned forward, closing the distance between them. He was trying to kiss her. Instinctively, Amara turned her head slightly, so his lips brushed against her cheek instead of her mouth. The gesture was unmistakably intimate, yet it felt wrong to her.
She pushed him back, a firm hand on his chest. “Stop,” she said, her voice steady but edged with irritation.
Alessandro looked taken aback, confusion flickering across his face. “What’s the problem? You’re my fiancee and soon-to-be wife.”
Amara’s eyes narrowed, her patience thinning. “I am neither your fiancee nor your wife yet, so stay within your limits.”
Alessandro straightened, a frown deepening on his face. “Amara, I thought we were supposed to be building a connection. This is part of that.”
“Building a connection doesn’t mean forcing intimacy,” Amara replied, her voice cold. “It means respecting boundaries and giving each other time.”
Alessandro sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just thought we were moving forward.”
“We are,” Amara said, her tone softening slightly. “But at my pace, not yours.”
The rest of the evening passed in a strained silence. When Alessandro finally walked her to her car, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension.
“Thank you for tonight, Amara,” Alessandro said, his voice subdued. “I hope we can move past this.”
“Goodnight, Alessandro,” she replied, avoiding a direct answer.
As she drove home, Amara’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. She knew she had to give this relationship a chance for her family’s sake, but the idea of spending her life with someone she didn’t love weighed heavily on her heart. She needed time to sort through her feelings, but time was a luxury she didn’t have.
Late at night, Rowan’s phone buzzed incessantly with incoming messages. Bleary-eyed from a long day, he reached for it, curiosity piqued. He glanced at the screen, noticing a series of images had been sent to him. With a furrowed brow, he downloaded the pictures, wondering what could be so urgent at this hour.
As the images loaded, Rowan’s heart skipped a beat. The first picture showed Alessandro leaning in, trying to kiss Amara. In the next image, Amara was pushing him away, her expression firm and resolute. A smile tugged at Rowan’s lips. “Well, that’s like my wife,” he murmured to himself, pride swelling in his chest. He admired Amara’s strength and her unwavering sense of self-respect. She was no pushover, and she certainly wouldn’t let anyone cross her boundaries.
But as his eyes shifted back to Alessandro in the photos, the smile faded. Rowan’s jaw clenched, and his grip on the phone tightened. The audacity of that man, daring to touch what was his, filled him with a slow-burning rage. Alessandro’s boldness and disregard for Amara’s clear discomfort were infuriating. Rowan’s mind raced with a mix of protective instinct and possessive anger.
The thought of Amara being in such an uncomfortable situation without him there to intervene gnawed at him. Rowan had always been protective of her, and seeing Alessandro’s unwanted advances stirred a primal urge to defend what he held dear. The image of Alessandro’s face, leaning in so arrogantly, was now etched into his mind, fueling his ire.
Rowan’s thoughts began to churn. Alessandro needed to understand his place, and more importantly, he needed to understand that Amara was not someone to be trifled with. Rowan couldn’t tolerate the idea of Alessandro-or anyone else, for that matter-disrespecting her.
With a deep breath, Rowan tried to calm the storm brewing inside him. He knew he needed to handle this situation with a clear head, not just with the raw emotion he was feeling. Amara was strong and capable, and she had shown that by standing up for herself. But Rowan felt an overwhelming need to support her and ensure that Alessandro got the message loud and clear: Amara was not to be treated as a mere conquest.