First (awkward) dinner

Alice had the dream again.

Of that certain man.

Usually, it was as if she was watching a movie in the dream like a silent observer. He never saw her. He only did his thing while she watched from this side. But this time... this time, he looked right at her, and the shock of it startled her, pulling her awake to the telephone in the room blaring.

Her groggy brain failed to process where she was or what she was doing in this soft bed.

Where was she?

The blaring telephone by the side of the bed wasn't helping either. She fumbled for it, still disoriented, her voice groggy.

"Hello?"

"DINNER!" a woman's sharp voice boomed through the receiver, making Alice flinch. The call ended abruptly. Like she had just been passed on a classified warning.

Alice's gaze shot to the grand clock mounted on the wall and her eyes widened in panic. 5:15 PM.

She suddenly remembered the instruction to be down by 5pm. Strictly.

"Oh, crap!" she exclaimed, dropping the phone and leaping out of bed.

Adrenaline kicked in as she darted for the suit hanging beside the bed. She grabbed it in a flurry, racing into the bathroom to check her reflection. Her makeup was slightly smudged, her freckles faintly visible beneath it. Her face looked tired, like she'd barely slept in days, and her head throbbed from the abrupt awakening.

"Fix it, fix it," she muttered under her breath, grabbing a makeup brush and hurriedly dabbing her face while struggling to pull the suit pants on.

In her rush, it felt like she had four hands—none of them coordinated. The shirt proved to be an even bigger challenge, the buttons refusing to cooperate with her trembling fingers. She managed to fasten them, albeit unevenly, and didn't notice that the bottom part wasn't properly tucked into her waistband either.

Her blazer hung crooked on one shoulder as she scrambled to finish fixing her face, smearing just enough concealer to hide her freckles before deciding she had no more time.

She dashed out of the room.

The hallway was quiet as she raced to the elevator, her breaths coming in short, panicked bursts. She jammed the elevator button repeatedly, willing it to come faster. By the time the doors opened, she was panting, her hair slightly disheveled from all the frantic movements.

Stepping into the elevator, Alice leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. But then she looked down briefly and almost panicked when she realized the misaligned buttons of her shirt.

This was not Aurora. She would never look like this.

She tried to fix it. Unbuttoning the shirt quickly. Underneath the shirt was the casual top she had worn to bed, rumpled.

Just at the same time, the elevator chimed. She barely had time to lift her head when she found herself face-to-face with someone who had been walking past, and jumped back, covering the front of her shirt like they had just seen her nakedness.

But then her gaze snapped back to him.

Dawin.

The heir. The one she was supposed to be married to.

Her thoughts scrambled.

What the hell?

He stood there, very much alive and well, his sharp eyes sweeping over her from head to toe. His expression remained unreadable, but she could tell he was taking in every detail of her disheveled state.

It wasn't until his gaze dropped to her feet that she followed it, finally noticing her house slippers. Her breath hitched in panic.

"Why am I wearing this?" she blurted out, more to herself than to him.

Dawin's gaze slowly lifted back to her face, his voice calm and devoid of any humor as he replied, "I don't think I know that answer."

With that, he turned and walked away, his stride confident and indifferent, as though he hadn't just seen her looking like she'd been dragged out of bed by a tornado.

She blinked after him, her brain spinning. What just happened?

The elevator doors almost closed back on her, but she stopped it, stepping out while frantically fixing her buttons.

It was too late to go back now. She was doomed.

An employee came to her. It was too weird to call them maids since they didn't look like one. The young lady gave Alice a once-over, her eyes widening slightly, betraying her surprise at Alice's appearance.

Alice flinched under the scrutiny, but before she could say anything, the lady gestured for her to follow.

They walked in silence, and Alice's nerves only grew worse with every step. When they finally reached the dining room, her heart nearly stopped.

She had never seen a dining table that long and occupied with so many things in her life. It seemed to stretch on endlessly, gleaming under the soft glow of the dangling lights above.

And seated around it were members of the Wildfire family, all dressed impeccably, their suits tailored to perfection.

And then... there she was...

Every single pair of eyes turned to her.

They didn't just look at her—they examined her, their gazes sliding over her from head to toe. Her awkwardly tucked blouse, her hair, bad makeup, the uneven buttons, her house slippers... nothing escaped their notice.

The weight of their judgment was unbearable.

Alice swallowed hard. She wanted to disappear. Or better yet, she wanted to throw herself back into that elevator and never come out again.

The table was daunting. Seated at it were two older women—The Wildfire Matriarch, the one who seemed to call the shots in this household. There was also her sister-in-law, whose gaze was sharp and judgmental. Across from them sat Dawin, who was busy scrolling through his phone as though nothing in the world could faze him, and Van, who looked like he was the only one happy to see her. Or maybe he was just amused she was making a fool of herself. Then, the twin cousins, Suzy and Wilson, sat side by side, their amused and curious gazes on her.

Noticeably absent were the Wildfire Chairman, Hades, and, most importantly, Pricillia. The one person Alice had clung to as her safety net. She had been promised Pricillia would be here.

So where the hell was she?

"Were you by chance waiting to saunter in after the Chairman arrived?" The Matriarch's voice cut through the silence, laced with sarcasm and irritation. Her cold gaze fixed on Alice, making her really want to run away now.

This woman spelled trouble.

Alice fumbled for words, her cheeks burning. She had never been this embarrassed before.

"I apologize," she said awkwardly.

"You apologize?" The Matriarch's scoff echoed through the room. She turned to the stoic and rude lady who had escorted Alice to her room earlier.

The lady's dislike for Alice had been evident from the start, but now, even she looked uneasy under the Matriarch's gaze.

"Did you tell her to come down here by 5, Betty?" the Matriarch asked, her tone sharp.

Betty. So that was her name.

Betty gave a curt nod. "I informed her, Madam."

Without warning, the Matriarch stood, moving with an unsettling grace toward Betty. Before Alice could fully process what was happening, the Matriarch raised her hand and slapped Betty hard across the face. The crack of the blow reverberated through the room, followed by a sharp intake of breath from Alice.

Betty staggered slightly but kept her head bowed, her cheek reddening immediately. A thin line of blood appeared where the Matriarch's ring had cut her skin.

"Do your job properly," the Matriarch hissed, her voice low and venomous.

Alice's shock deepened, her heart pounding as she stared at the scene in disbelief.

Did that just happen?

Then, as if nothing had occurred, the Matriarch turned back to Alice, her gaze cold and piercing. "And you," she said, her voice now calm but no less menacing, "don't think for a second you have a maid here who will remind you of everything. The first rule of being a Wildfire is obedience. I hope you will never forget that."

Alice just stared blankly, her mind spinning. She didn't know what to say—or if saying anything at all would only make things worse.

She had thought she was prepared for the Wildfires, but this... this was a different beast entirely.

She knew deep down. That she couldn't play Aurora for long here.

It was just impossible.

"Got it!" She said before moving elegantly to sit in her spot, all eyes watching her like they hadn't expected her to react that way.

She found Dawin staring at her and kept her gaze on him.

This son of a bitch dared abandon Aurora.

Dawin's gaze furrowed. It looked like he was waiting for her to look away first. But she kept her gaze firm on him. Until they heard footsteps.

The chairman had arrived.