Chapter 15: Before the Storm

The world had shifted beneath her feet. Not with a quake or a scream, but with a quiet, startling declaration: "She's mine. We're together."

Caden hadn't asked. He had simply announced it in front of key staff, business associates, and his disbelieving brother as if their entanglement was as natural as breathing.

Fiancée. The word wasn't spoken out loud, but it clung to every stare, every knowing nod, every whisper that followed her through the Whitmore estate that day.

And now, twenty-four hours later, she was expected to meet his family.

Not as his assistant.

Not even as a friend.

But as the woman he chose.

It was absurd. Terrifying. Unreal.

Yesterday, she hadn't even had a boyfriend. She hadn't known what Caden Whitmore wanted from her sometimes, she still wasn't sure. One moment he was aloof and unreadable, and the next, possessive and too close. Now? He had dragged her into a spotlight she wasn't ready for, branding her with a role she hadn't asked to play.

How do you tell your parents something like this?

She sat curled on the window seat of her room, knees tucked to her chest, phone in hand but unmoving. The blue glow of the screen lit up her face, catching the unease she couldn't hide.

Her mother's contact stared back at her.

Dialing that number meant explanations. Questions. Maybe judgment.

She could already imagine her mother's voice soft but anxious. "Amara… is this wise? You barely know this man."

And she would have no answer.

Because they were right.

She didn't know Caden the way she should.

She didn't even know herself in this new role.

Her thumb hovered over the screen. Her chest tightened.

But she dialed.

The ring seemed endless. A thousand thoughts flashed through her mind—Should I lie? Should I sugarcoat it? Say it was new, casual, not serious? But even that would be a lie.

Then the line clicked. "Amara, is everything okay?"

Her mother's voice was warm, concerned. Familiar. It made the lump in her throat grow heavier.

"I'm okay," she said, and immediately hated how fake she sounded. "Actually… I called because I needed to tell you something. Something big."

A pause. Her mother waited.

"It's about… someone I've been seeing," Amara said carefully, her voice low. "His name is Caden."

Another pause. A slower one. Her mother's tone shifted. "Seeing?"

"I didn't mean to keep it from you," Amara rushed out. "It happened fast. I wasn't expecting it. And I know this will sound crazy, but… we're together. It's serious."

"Serious… how serious?"

"We've made it public. At his workplace. People think we're engaged."

Silence. It stretched so long Amara thought the call had dropped.

Her father's eyes narrowed. "Announced? Amara, that sounds serious. You don't even know the man properly. You barely graduated university, and now you're throwing yourself into something so sudden?"

Amara swallowed hard. "I know it sounds sudden. I didn't plan for this. But I care about him. And he cares about me."

Her mother shook her head. "Care isn't enough. You don't understand the world he lives in. It's cold, ruthless. And you? You're so... soft. What makes you think you can survive there?"

Her father's tone was firmer now. "We're not trying to be harsh, but we want to protect you. You need to slow down. Think carefully. Don't let this whirlwind sweep you away before you truly know who he is."

Amara felt tears prick at her eyes but blinked them away. "I'm not a child anymore. I have to make my own choices. Even if you don't agree."

Her mother's gaze softened, but her voice remained steady. "We don't agree. Not yet. But we love you. That will never change."

Later that evening, Amara called her brother, who was abroad.

"Engaged? Seriously?" His tone was blunt, disbelief clear. "Amara, you've barely had time to figure yourself out. You don't even really know the guy."

"I know it sounds crazy," she whispered, "but there's more to him than you see."

He sighed heavily. "I just want you to be careful. Don't get hurt."

"I'm trying," she said softly.

Then came the soft knock.

"Amara," came Caden's voice from the other side, unreadable. "Ten minutes."

Of course. Ten minutes until they left. Until she stood before the Whitmore family, wearing borrowed elegance and forced composure, pretending like this was normal.

Pretending like her world wasn't unraveling and reshaping all at once.

She didn't answer him. She didn't need to.

He wouldn't wait anyway.

...

She stood in front of the mirror, the gown hugging her figure like second skin. Her reflection looked the part: polished, poised, like someone who belonged in a room full of silk and money. But inside? Her heart was a flurry of doubt.

This isn't you.

The girl staring back had been forged in hardship, in silence and scraped knees, in books and ambition. Not in diamonds and headlines. Not in whispered engagements with emotionally distant heirs.

Caden hadn't said a word about what to expect from tonight. No warnings, no reassurances. Just a brisk, "We'll leave at seven."

He hadn't even looked at her when he said it.

She heard the cold distance in his tone again now, playing over and over in her head like a cruel echo. As if she was just another item on his schedule.

Not someone he had claimed in front of a room full of people.

Not someone whose world he had upended.

...….

In the car, silence stretched between them like a taut wire. The city lights flickered past, but inside, everything felt frozen.

Caden scrolled through his phone with a tight jaw, not sparing her a glance.

Amara's voice was barely a whisper. "Are you going to talk to me?"

He didn't look up. "There's nothing to say."

The chill in his tone hit her like a blow.

"Nothing?" she echoed, hurt seeping in. "After all this after you announced our engagement without even telling me?"

He finally turned his head, eyes dark and unreadable. "You agreed. Don't act like I dragged you into this."

She swallowed, fury rising. "I didn't agree to be a pawn in your game."

His lips curled in a cold smirk. "You're not a pawn. You're mine. That's all that matters."

Her chest tightened, the possessiveness suffocating. "You don't get to own me, Caden."

He stared straight ahead, voice flat and ruthless. "I don't need your permission. This isn't about you. It's about what's best for me, for my family."

Amara's hands clenched into fists. "I'm supposed to just stand here and accept that?"

He shrugged, icy and indifferent. "You knew what you were stepping into. Don't complain now."

The word complain stung. She wanted to shout, to cry, to run. But she stayed quiet, biting back the storm inside.

The rest of the ride passed with the same cold distance no warmth, no comfort. Just the heavy weight of power wielded like a weapon.

She realized then: this wasn't love. It was control masquerading as protection. And she wasn't sure how much more she could take. 

She closed her eyes.

How did this become her life?

One day she was folding bedsheets in her old room, dreaming of a stable job. The next, she was the center of a power play wrapped in the illusion of affection.

And through it all, the man beside her was more distant than ever.

As they neared the Whitmore estate gates, Amara felt her heart thud harder. She reached for the door handle with a shaky hand.

Play your part, she told herself.

Breathe.

Smile.

Don't fall apart.

Not yet.