Rain streaked down the tall windows of the Terania estate's study, blurring the garden beyond into soft shades of gray. The light inside was dim and gentle, pooling across the polished floor like melted silver. Elara Terania poured tea for their guest with the grace of a woman accustomed to men who believed themselves powerful. Beside her, Gideon Terania sat comfortably, smiling across the low table at the young man opposite them.
Noah Rolston had changed since the day he first arrived as a quiet foster child. Years of disciplined study and relentless work had refined him into someone magnetic. His voice carried calm precision as he spoke about the project that filled his thoughts—a new group he hoped to build, a boyband that could redefine the sound of modern pop.
"My concept is simple," Noah explained, his tone even. "Five members, each with a distinct tone and personality. I'll handle composition and production. What we need is stable funding for the first two years—just enough to stand on our own."
Gideon leaned back, considering the figures written neatly in the folder before him. "You're asking for less than I expected," he said. "That tells me you've already arranged partnerships elsewhere."
"I have a few," Noah admitted. "But none strong enough to guarantee creative freedom."
Elara smiled faintly. "And you believe we can provide that?"
"I believe the Terania Group has always supported visionaries," Noah replied. "Your family gave me a home when I had none. I wouldn't trust anyone else to see the potential in this."
The words were honest, but beneath them lay careful calculation. Elara and Gideon Terania were not ordinary investors; they were architects of industries. If their name appeared in the credits of his debut, every door in the business would open effortlessly.
Gideon closed the folder with a decisive click. "We'll sponsor the project," he said. "We'll cover the initial costs—the studio, the promotion, everything you'll need. All we ask is that you do what you've always done: give it everything."
Relief and gratitude flickered across Noah's face, but something in Gideon's phrasing lingered in his thoughts. All we ask. The words sounded like a condition. When Elara added lightly, "It will be good to have you tied more closely to the family again," the implication deepened.
Tied to the family.
Gideon and Elara smiled at him with warmth and pride. "You're family, Noah," Gideon said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever you build, we'll stand behind you."
Elara's tone was just as kind. "And there's Mirabelle, too. We want you both to look after each other."
The words hung in the air—soft, affectionate, but layered. Look after each other.
Noah hesitated. Did they mean an engagement? It made sense. Families like theirs often sealed partnerships with personal alliances. An engagement between him and Mirabelle would be tidy, respectable, and mutually beneficial.
He understood how such arrangements worked among the powerful. An alliance between a rising artist and the daughter of a media empire was not a matter of romance but of practicality. It meant security, legitimacy, and a foundation for success.
A sense of purpose filled him. Yes, he thought. That must be what they meant.
"I understand," he said finally, straightening slightly. "I'll do my part to honor the family's trust."
Elara smiled, pleased. "That's all we ask, Noah. Work hard, and let us handle the rest."
He nodded. "Then we're agreed."
Gideon extended his hand, and Noah shook it firmly, unaware of the quiet misunderstanding that had just taken root between them.
When the meeting ended, Noah lingered for a moment in the foyer. The marble gleamed beneath his shoes, and the faint scent of jasmine—Mirabelle's favorite perfume—drifted from somewhere upstairs. He glanced toward the staircase, half expecting her to appear. She did not.
Perhaps she was waiting until everything was formal. That seemed reasonable. She had always been shy beneath her confident gestures. A small smile touched his lips as he stepped out of the estate.
In his mind, the deal was sealed. The Terania Group would fund his dream, and in return he would marry their daughter. The arrangement felt logical and comforting. It promised security, stability, and the end of years spent depending on favors.
He left the estate that day believing he and Mirabelle were already engaged.
In the garden, Mirabelle remained unaware of the conversation that had just rewritten both their futures—though only in Noah's mind. To Gideon and Elara, it had simply been a gesture of support, a way to welcome their foster son back into the family through the work he loved.
To Noah, it had sounded like a promise—an engagement.
Outside, the rain had finally stopped, leaving behind only the scent of new beginnings.