Chapter 2 The Proposal

The Bellamy mansion's dining room gleamed under the crystal chandelier, casting rainbows across the polished mahogany table. Anna descended the curved staircase, fingers brushing the banister, steeling herself for whatever Victoria had planned. Male voices murmured from her father's study-pre-dinner business, as always.

A server offered champagne as she entered the drawing room. She accepted a flute, using the moment to compose herself. The space was curated to perfection: fresh flowers, antique furniture, and Victoria's influence in every detail.

"There she is," Victoria cooed, gliding toward Anna. "Doesn't she look lovely, Richard?"

Her father turned, his gaze softening briefly-just long enough for Anna to glimpse a memory of her mother-before he masked it.

"Anna," he said with a nod. "Come meet our guests."

The two men turned. James Devereaux, silver-haired and commanding, studied her like an asset. But it was his son who drew her attention.

Alexander Devereaux was tall and lean, his tailored suit emphasizing a lithe, athletic build. Striking features and unreadable dark eyes met hers with equal intensity.

"Miss Bellamy," James said, taking her hand. "A pleasure. Richard speaks highly of you."

"Does he?" she replied before catching herself. "I mean-thank you, Mr. Devereaux."

James smiled slightly. "And this is my son, Alexander."

Alexander's grip was firm, his voice deep. "Your father's descriptions didn't do you justice."

Something in his tone made her pause-irony? Amusement?

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," she replied. "My father hasn't mentioned you at all."

Richard cleared his throat. "Dinner should be ready. Shall we?"

Victoria linked arms with him, leading the way. Anna walked with Alexander.

"Your home is impressive," he said. "Very... traditional."

"A mausoleum with better lighting," she muttered, then regretted it.

He laughed softly. "Honesty. Refreshing. I live in a similar museum."

They entered the dining room. Anna was seated between James and Alexander, opposite Victoria and Richard-strategically placed.

Dinner unfolded with practiced elegance: markets, politics, polished anecdotes. James dominated; Alexander offered just enough insight to impress without upstaging.

Midway through the third course, James looked at Richard. "Shall we discuss why we're here?"

The room tensed.

"Anna," her father began, "our families have long been allies. James and I built empires separately. It's time to join forces."

"A merger?" she asked.

James's gaze turned calculating. "More permanent than business. A union."

Realization struck. She set down her glass, carefully.

"Alexander will inherit the Devereaux empire," James said. "As you will the Bellamy name. A union would solidify our legacy."

Anna looked at Alexander. "And what does Mr. Devereaux think of this arrangement?"

He sipped his wine. "I understand the strategic advantages."

Not a declaration of love.

"The wedding would be next spring," Victoria added, glowing. "Time for announcements, planning..."

Anna stared at her father. "You can't be serious."

"It's a tremendous opportunity," he said.

"To be traded like an asset?"

"That's unfair," Richard snapped. "This is tradition."

"Like your marriage to my mother?"

Silence. Victoria's smile tightened.

"Anna," Richard warned.

"I remember something different," she continued. "Was it a business deal too?"

"We had a love match," Richard said quietly. "But that was different."

"Because she wasn't a commodity?"

Victoria interjected, "We want what's best for you."

"No. You want what's best for yourselves."

"Enough," Richard said sharply. "You're embarrassing us."

Anna turned to Alexander. "You'll marry a stranger because your father commands it?"

"I understand duty," he replied. "Some accept the responsibilities of privilege."

The calm sting of his words cut deep. Anna stood.

"Then find someone else who values submission. I will not be that person."

"Sit down," her father ordered.

"I've lost my appetite," she said, walking away.

In her father's study, Anna opened the wall safe hidden behind a portrait. The combination hadn't changed: her mother's birthday. She retrieved cash, the deed to her mother's property, and the Langford heirloom jewelry.

Voices neared. She ducked behind the couch.

"She'll come around," Richard said.

"She seems determined," James replied. "Reminds me of Elizabeth."

"If not," Victoria said, "she forfeits her place in this family."

Anna froze.

"Isn't that extreme?" Alexander asked.

"She'll fold," Victoria said. "She has no resources. A few days in the real world will bring her back."

"I'm not interested in coercion," Alexander said. "If she doesn't agree, find another solution."

He stepped toward the door. "I've seen enough. Father?"

Anna waited until they left before emerging. She would not be disowned-she would leave first.

In her room, she packed quickly: jeans, sweater, essentials. Her mother's photo last. From the window, she saw the Devereaux car. Alexander lit a cigarette, glancing toward the house-toward her window.

She withdrew. He wasn't her concern.

She slipped out through the garden entrance. The cool night air whispered of freedom. Behind her, voices rose in alarm.

Anna melted into the darkness. Her mother's words echoed: You determine your value. With her birthright in hand and resolve in her chest, she walked toward a future of her own making.