Ann stormed up the grand staircase, her heels clattering angrily against the polished marble. Her chest tightened as hot tears blurred her vision. She ignored the sound of her mother's voice calling from below, too ashamed and too furious to stop. With every step, Ethan's words replayed in her mind like cruel echoes.
"Keep your distance. I won't say that again."
"Me marrying you does not mean we need to have any relationship."
She had thought this dinner would be her chance the perfect opportunity to begin weaving herself into his world. Instead, she had been humiliated, cast aside like she was nothing.
Reaching her room, Ann slammed the door shut and collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in her satin pillow. Her sobs came out muffled, jagged, each one burning her throat. She was supposed to be the chosen bride. Yet Ethan had treated her as if she were disposable.
Moments later, the door creaked open. Mrs. Wilson entered quietly, her silk gown brushing the carpet as she approached. Her daughter's muffled cries pierced her heart. She sat on the edge of the bed, stroking Ann's hair gently.
"Darling," she whispered, her voice soft but steady, "what's wrong? Why are you crying like this?"
Ann lifted her face, mascara streaking down her cheeks. "Mummy, I was trying to get close to him. I just wanted him to notice me to know me. But he's so cold toward me. He doesn't want me." Her words broke into hiccupped sobs.
Mrs. Wilson cupped her daughter's cheeks, dabbing the tears with her thumb. "Oh, my precious child, don't cry. Don't waste your beautiful tears on this. You are far too valuable, too radiant, to let his coldness shake you."
"But, Mummy…" Ann's lips trembled. "I like him. I like him very much. You have to help me, please. I can't lose him. I won't."
Her mother's eyes hardened, her consoling tone shifting into determination. "Listen to me, Ann. You are going to marry into the Walmart family. I will make sure of it. Ethan's coldness means nothing. Men like him are always distant at first—but they come around. Power and pride make them act untouchable. But soon, he will see that no one is more suitable for him than you."
Ann sniffled, clinging to her mother's hand. "Thank you, Mummy. I just… I just don't want him to look at anyone else."
Mrs. Wilson's lips curved in a thin smile. "Then we shall make sure he doesn't."
---
Downstairs
While Ann poured her heart out upstairs, the conversation between the two men continued .
Mr. Carter leaned back comfortably in his chair, his eyes sharp beneath his silver brows. Despite his age, his presence filled the room with authority, a man who had spent decades building a retail empire that spanned the globe.
"You can come by the office tomorrow to sign the contract," Carter said, his voice steady, laced with finality.
Mr. Wilson's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. He had been waiting for this moment, this partnership that would secure his family's wealth . "That's excellent, Mr. Carter. I'll be there first thing in the morning."
The men exchanged a firm handshake. Wilson felt the weight of destiny in that grip this was not just business. This was legacy.
At that moment, the door opened and Ethan returned, sliding his phone into his pocket after finishing with Ronan. His stride was calm, unhurried, his expression unreadable. He took the seat beside his father, leaning close to whisper something into his ear.
"Father, something urgent has come up. We need to leave."
Carter nodded briskly, respecting his son's judgment. Turning to Wilson, he said, "I'm afraid we must take our leave now, Mr. Wilson."
"No problem at all," Mr Wilson replied graciously. "Business never sleeps."
They both rose to their feet. Carter extended his hand once more, his firm grip lingering. "Thank you for hosting me in your home today. It has been a fruitful evening."
"The pleasure is all mine," Wilson said warmly.
They exchanged polite bows before Ethan and his father exited, their polished shoes clicking against the marble floor as they departed into the night.
---
The Ride Home
The black luxury car glided smoothly through the quiet streets, city lights flickering past the tinted windows. Inside, silence hung heavily between father and son until Ethan finally broke it.
"Dad," he said calmly, his voice firm, "I really don't want to get married."
Carter ⁰exhaled through his nose, his patience thinning. "Ethan, we've had this conversation before. You're not a boy anymore. You must marry, settle down, and bear me grandchildren. This is not just about you it's about the family, the company, our future."
Ethan's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. "And what of my future? Do my wishes count for nothing?"
Wilson's voice rose slightly. "Your future is this family. Everything I've built, I've built for you to inherit. Stop with your excuses, Ethan."
Ethan stared out the window, watching the blur of streetlights. His tone dropped, deliberate. "I heard the Walmart family has two daughters. Yet tonight, I only saw one."
"Yes," Wilson said after a pause. "Ann and Maya. Maya wasn't at the dinner."
A silence stretched before Ethan turned back, his expression unflinching. "Then why am I being forced to marry Ann? Why not Maya?"
Wilson blinked, startled. "What are you trying to say?"
Ethan's voice was quiet but carried the weight of command. "If I am to marry in that family, it will be Maya. Not Ann."
His father stiffened. "Ethan, the contract—"
"I don't care about the contract." Ethan's words cut through the air like a blade. "Find a way around it. If you want me to marry, then make it Maya. Otherwise, I won't marry at all."
The older man fell silent, studying his son's unyielding face. For a moment, father and son locked eyes, both men stubborn, powerful in their own right.
Finally, Wilson sighed and shook his head. "Fine. But hear me, Ethan you must get married. I won't tolerate your defiance forever."
Ethan leaned back into the leather seat, his lips curling in the faintest shadow of a smile. "I can live with that."
The Wilson Mansion
Back at their own estate, the Wilsons retired to their bedroom. The master suite was bathed in warm golden lamplight, the walls adorned with expensive paintings, the faint scent of roses filling the air.
Mrs. Wilson sat before her vanity mirror, carefully wiping away her makeup. Her expression was calm, even pleased, her mind replaying the evening's events.
"You seem to be in a good mood," Mr. Wilson observed, removing his tie as he watched her from the armchair.
"Of course," she replied with a soft chuckle. "I'm overjoyed. Our daughter is about to marry into the Walmart family. Can you imagine? The CEO himself. This alliance will change everything."
Wilson nodded slowly, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. "Yes. This opportunity will bring great fortune to our family and company."
But Mrs. Wilson's smile faltered slightly. "Still… I worry. Ann was crying earlier, after she ran upstairs. Ethan was terribly cold toward her."
Wilson waved a dismissive hand. "You know the way Ethan is. He's always been like that distant, unreadable. This is his first time meeting Ann. Give him time. Things will fall into place."
Mrs. Wilson studied her reflection in the mirror, her eyes narrowing with a mixture of hope and calculation. "If you say so…" she murmured.
But deep down, she knew Ethan was no ordinary man. And winning his heart would not be as simple as her husband believed.