248

248
Emilia’s POV
The restaurant was beautiful in a way that felt calculated. Warm golden lights spilled across polished wood tables, soft music hummed in the background, and the aroma of roasted herbs and garlic drifted through the air. But none of it could mask the suffocating tension hanging over our table.
Alonso Cruz, my father, sat across from me, his smile too polite, his manner too smooth. He wore his charm like armor, but I wasn’t fooled. He was watching us closely, waiting for cracks to show. Beside me, Alaric was a coil wound so tight I worried he’d snap at the slightest provocation.
“Alessandra,” Alonso began.
“Emili,” Alaric growled, his eyes narrowed at Alonso. I held his hand, rubbing it in slow circles.
I forced a polite smile, though my stomach churned. “Let’s just go straight to the point,” I murmured.
Alonso leaned back in his chair, studying me with an air of practiced ease. “You know, I’ve always admired people who can keep their heads in chaotic situations. It’s a rare trait.”
“Chaos isn’t exactly my favorite environment,” I replied, keeping my tone measured. “I’d much rather work toward peace.”
Alonso’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “As would I. It’s why I called this meeting, after all.”
Alaric scoffed, and I felt his hand grip the edge of the table like he was trying to steady himself. “Cut the crap, Alonso. You don’t get to sit there and pretend you’re some peacemaker. We both know better.”
“Alaric,” I said softly, placing a hand on his arm. He didn’t flinch, but his jaw tightened, the muscles ticking under his skin. “We’ve been through this!” I whispered harshly. He just snatched his arm away from my hand, refusing to look at me.
Alonso raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not pretending anything. I’m here because I think it’s time we moved past this… unpleasantness.”
“Unpleasantness?” Alaric’s voice was low, dangerous. “Is that what you call it? The bloodshed? The betrayals? The people you’ve hurt?”
“Alaric,” I said again, firmer this time. He turned to me, his eyes blazing with frustration, but I held his gaze. “We agreed to hear him out. Let’s try to keep this civil.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded, barely.
Alonso, ever the opportunist, seized the moment. “You see, Emilia? This is why I respect you. You have a calming influence. Something we could all benefit from. I’m proud to call you my daughter.”
I didn’t rise to the bait, though I could feel Alaric’s simmering anger beside me. “Let’s focus on why we’re here,” I said, steering the conversation back to the point. “You mentioned wanting peace. What does that look like to you, Alonso?”
He leaned forward slightly, his expression turning serious. “It looks like an end to hostilities. No more attacks, no more retaliation. A truce, built on mutual respect and cooperation.”
Alaric let out a derisive laugh. “Respect? Cooperation? That’s rich coming from you.”
“Alaric-”
“No, Emilia,” he interrupted, turning to me with a hard look. “He doesn’t get to sit here and spout lies without being called out. This man doesn’t know the meaning of respect.”
“I understand your skepticism,” Alonso said smoothly, as if he hadn’t just been accused of being a liar. “But I assure you, my intentions are genuine.”
Alaric leaned forward, his voice low and menacing. “Your intentions are always genuine-until they aren’t. Until there’s something in it for you.”
“Alaric, please,” I said, my tone more pleading than I wanted it to be.
He sat back, muttering something under his breath, and I turned my attention back to Alonso. “If we’re going to have a productive conversation, we need to address the past,” I said. “There’s a lot of pain on both sides, and that can’t be ignored.”
Alonso nodded, his expression looking genuinely solemn. “You’re right. Mistakes were made. Lines were crossed. But if we stay focused on the past, we’ll never be able to move forward.”
“It’s easy to say that when you’re the one who crossed the lines,” Alaric said, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
“Enough,” I said sharply, surprising even myself. Both men turned to look at me, Alonso with mild amusement and Alaric with a mix of irritation and surprise.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “We’re here to find a way forward, not to rehash old grievances. Alonso, if you’re serious about peace, then be serious. What are you willing to do to make it happen?”
He smiled faintly, as if impressed. “Straight to the point. I like that.”
I said nothing, waiting.
“I’m willing to make concessions,” he said finally. “To establish clear boundaries, to ensure that our paths don’t cross unnecessarily.”
“And what about accountability?” I asked. “What about the damage that’s already been done?”
“Accountability is a tricky thing,” Alonso said, choosing his words carefully. “But I’m open to discussing reparations. Within reason, of course.”
Alaric let out another bitter laugh. “Within reason. Of course. Always looking out for yourself, aren’t you?”
“That’s enough,” I said, my voice firm. I turned to Alonso. “Reparations are a start. But this can’t just be about avoiding conflict. There has to be a genuine effort to rebuild trust, to prove that this isn’t just another game.”
Alonso’s gaze flicked to Alaric, then back to me. “Trust takes time,” he said. “But I’m willing to make the effort. Are you?”
I hesitated, glancing at Alaric. His expression was hard and I could see all the emotions swirling in his eyes.
“I’m willing to try,” I said finally, my voice quiet but steady. “But it has to be mutual. Both sides have to want this.”
Alonso nodded, his smile faint but genuine. “That’s all I ask.”
The table fell silent, all of us staring at each other warily. I could feel Alaric’s stiffness beside me. His anger was barely contained. I reached for his hand under the table, squeezing it gently.
He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t squeeze back either.
This was going to be harder than I thought.
“I’m engaged to Alaric,” I breathed out, dropping the bombshell. He needed to know. So if this was a trap of some sort, bed know that hurting Alaric meant hurting me too.
“Oh I heard about that,” Alonso answered, his smile fading. “And I’ve been wondering when you were going to tell me, your father, that you’re engaged to him.”