Chapter 1 The Proposal I Never Wanted

It was supposed to be just a dinner party. That was what my mother told me.

"Wear your best dress, Amara. Smile, and behave well," she had said. But the way she smoothed my hair, the way she avoided my eyes that should have warned me.

The hall glittered under the chandeliers every crystal light bouncing off polished floors and shining gowns. Laughter filled in the air, mingling with the sweet smell of wine and roasted meat. Servants moved quietly between tables, carrying trays of champagne and dessert.

Now here I was, standing in front of the whole room, as Andrea-the man everyone expected me to marry-held out a ring that glittered more than the lights above us.

"Amara," he said, his voice strong, rich with the confidence of a man who never heard 'no.' "Be my wife."

The crowd clapped, women gasped, some even whispered how lucky I was. I saw my father rise a little from his chair, his chest puffing with pride. My mother's smile stretched too wide, as if she had been holding her breath for this moment all her life.

But my own breath caught in my throat.

Andrea's eyes locked on me, dark and heavy, full of something that looked less like love and more like possession. I felt trapped, cornered like a deer with hunters all around.

I tried to smile, my lips shaking. "Andrea... this is so sudden."

"Sudden?" He chuckled, raising one brow. He stepped closer, his polished shoes echoing on the marble floor. His cologne strong, woody-filled my lungs until I almost coughed. "Amara, everyone knows this is destiny. Your family and mine has been partners for years. This was always the plan."

The audience clapped again louder this time, as if his words sealed my fate.

But my heart thudded, screaming inside me. No. No. No.

"I..." My voice trembled, but I forced it out. "I can't marry you."

The hall froze.

Some people covered their mouths. One of the waiters dropped a tray of glasses; the shattering sound rang across the hall like thunder.

"What did you say?" Andrea's smile didn't reach his eyes anymore. His hand holding the ring froze mid-air.

"I said I don't want to marry you."

My mother shot up from her chair, her hand clutching her pearls. "Amara! Do you realize what you're saying?"

My father's voice followed, loud and furious. "Enough of this nonsense! Accept the proposal now!"

I shook my head, my chest heaving. "Papa, I can't. I can't live with a man who doesn't respect me."

Andrea lowered the ring, slipping it slowly back into his pocket. His face was calm, too calm, but his eyes burned like fire. He leaned closer until his breath brushed my ear.

"Do you know what you've just done? Do you know what this refusal means for your family?"

My throat tightened, but I whispered back, "It means I won't chain myself to a man I don't love."

Hah! hah!! hah!!, his laughter sharp, mocking. "Love? You think love pays debts? You think love feeds families? Without me, your father is nothing. Your family is nothing."

The whispers in the hall turned into buzzing. I caught words "shameful," "ungrateful," "ruined."

My mother rushed forward, gripping my arm so tight it hurt. "Amara, please, don't do this. You will destroy us. Do you want us on the streets? Do you want your father disgraced?"

My father's face turned red, his fists clenching at his side. "This is madness. Andrea's father has given me everything! And you dare humiliate him?"

Andrea raised his glass, turning to the audience as if he was above the drama. "Ladies and gentlemen, forgive the outburst. It seems Amara... needs more time to think."

The crowd laughed nervously, though no one missed the insult in his tone.

But before Andrea could step away, a voice broke the silence.

"Leave her alone!"

It was Daniel. My little brother stood from the corner, his fists clenched, his eyes blazing. He was only sixteen, but in that moment, his courage shone brighter than any chandelier in the room. "She has a right to choose!"

All heads turned. My father barked, "Daniel, sit down!"

But Daniel didn't move. "You always choose what's best for business, Papa. What about what's best for her heart?"

Gasps again. Some guests even nodded, whispering. Andrea's jaw clenched, his pride sliced by the words of a boy.

My eyes burned with tears as I looked at Daniel. My sweet, stubborn brother, the only one brave enough to stand by me.

Andrea's smile returned, but it was dark, dangerous. He looked at Daniel for a long second before turning back to me. "This is not over, Amara. Remember my words, you'll regret this."

He turned and walked away, the crowd parting for him like waves around a rock. His exit was slow, deliberate, as if every step carried a warning.

The hall filled with noise again-guests murmuring, servants whispering, my parents drowning in embarrassment. My father buried his face in his hands while my mother looked as if she could collapse.

I stood frozen, my chest aching, my knees weak.

This wasn't just a refusal. This was war.