Ariana's POV
I was already tired from the food I had eaten. My body felt heavy, and all I wanted was to get out of that dining room. Zack handed me his business card before we left because he knew I was too tired to go for a walk, his dad suggested. I smiled faintly and tucked it into my clutch. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but Dad was already thanking Mr. Andrew, so I just nodded.
The ride home was quiet. Dad was humming to some old jazz tune on the radio, Mum was scrolling through her phone, and Elias drove with his usual focus. I stared out the window, counting the streetlights as we passed them. My stomach turned slightly — maybe from all that seafood. Or maybe just nerves.
When we got home, Mum said, "You should rest, sweetheart."
I nodded. I went upstairs, changed, and lay flat on my bed. Sleep didn't come. The silence in my room was too loud. I kept staring at the ceiling, waiting — maybe for Elias to come to the balcony, like he used to when I couldn't sleep. But he didn't. The lights in the backyard went off one after another, and by midnight, the whole house felt like it was holding its breath.
I cried quietly into my pillow, not really knowing why. Maybe I was tired. Maybe guilty. Maybe both. Before I finally drifted off, I thought about leaving — packing a small bag, walking out the gate, never looking back. But then I remembered how innocent I still was. Running away sounded like something girls in movies did, not people like me.
I woke up before anyone else the next morning. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside. My stomach still felt heavy from last night's dinner, and my head throbbed slightly. I didn't wait for Miss Sarah to knock — I didn't want to wait for anyone.
Downstairs, the scent of breakfast didn't reach me at first. I padded quietly into the kitchen, my bare feet brushing against the cold marble. Dad wasn't there yet, and Mum was scrolling on her phone at the counter.
"Good morning," I said softly.
She looked up. "Morning, sweetie. Did you sleep well?"
"Fine," I said. I didn't feel fine, but I didn't want to talk about it.
Before I could move toward the fruit bowl, Dad's phone rang on the counter. I recognized the ringtone — that official Quins Group line — meant only business. He picked it up without glancing at me.
"This is Beckett Vale," he said, voice clipped but polite.
I leaned against the doorway and listened.
"Good morning, sir," a woman's voice replied. "This is Janet from the Quins Group. I'm calling to confirm tonight's dinner with Mr. Andrew. He mentioned you would attend with your son. Will you be available?"
Dad's expression didn't change. "Yes. We'll be there. The arrangements are fine."
"And your daughter?" Janet asked. "Will she be joining?"
I stiffened. My stomach dropped slightly.
Dad's voice carried easily across the kitchen. "No. Ariana has other plans. She won't be attending tonight. The dinner is for business purposes only."
I stayed where I was, gripping the edge of the counter. I wasn't supposed to be part of this — no dinner, no conversation, nothing. Just another spectator in my own life.
"Yes, sir. I'll inform Mr. Andrew," Janet replied.
Dad hung up and set the phone down. I didn't move. He didn't even glance in my direction.
Mum caught my eye briefly. "Sweetie…" she started, but I shook my head.
"I'm fine," I said, though my throat felt tight.
She pursed her lips and turned back to her coffee. I quietly picked up an apple from the bowl and walked toward the yoga room, ignoring the chatter of the staff moving around the house. My mat was already laid out, as it always was, with the lavender scent lingering faintly in the air.
I sat down, staring at the floor for a long time. The quiet wasn't comforting. It reminded me I was invisible in this house sometimes, excluded from the conversations that mattered, decisions made over my head.
The phone buzzed on the yoga mat. I didn't move at first, not wanting to be distracted. Then I glanced at it. A message from Zack.
"Hey, hope your morning's starting better than my last email from Dad. Heard you weren't invited to the big dinner? That's a shame — I'd have wanted you there."
I blinked. He wasn't supposed to know.
"Guess it's a boring adult thing," I typed back cautiously.
A moment later, his reply came:
"Boring? With you there? Never. I'd have probably tried to talk through the whole menu just to hear you order something ridiculous. Like seafood paella, garlic bread, and a salad at the same time."
I bit my lip and laughed quietly, even though the room was empty.
"You remember that?"
"Hard to forget. You made me choke on my water."
"You weren't supposed to look," I typed, smiling to myself.
"I tried. Can't help it. I want to know what kind of trouble you'd get into next."
I stared at the screen for a while, thinking. His words were light, teasing, but there was curiosity in them — like he actually wanted to know me, even though we'd just met.
I slipped the phone back into my yoga mat pouch and leaned back, letting the sunlight on the floor warm my face. My stomach still ached slightly, but now it was more from tension than food. Dad's call, the exclusion, Zack's messages — everything combined into a small storm I couldn't shake.
I did some stretches, moving slowly, but my mind wasn't on balance or breathing. I kept thinking about the dinner tonight, about not being invited, and about Zack. His text felt like a tether, small and fragile, pulling me out of the weight of my father's world for just a moment.
After yoga, I went to the balcony with a glass of water. The garden was quiet. The roses were trimmed perfectly, the fountains steady. Everything looked perfect. Everything was controlled. Except me.
I closed my eyes for a moment and whispered, "I can't stay like this."
I went back inside, dressed in something comfortable, and went down to breakfast a little later than usual. Dad was already gone, and Mum looked worried when she saw me.
"Did you eat?" she asked softly.
"No, I did yoga."
She nodded, not pushing. I grabbed an apple anyway, not because I was hungry, but because it made me feel like I had some control over the morning.
Back in my room, I kept Zack's message in mind, smiling faintly at the little flirty undertone. I didn't respond immediately. Not yet. I wasn't ready to decide anything. I placed my phone on the nightstand and stared at his business card, exactly where I'd left it.
I didn't touch it. I didn't move it. I just looked at it.