After the situation had been explained, the room went quiet. Awkward, and tense.
Beatrice was introduced to a woman near her Mother's age. Elegant and gorgeous, her name was Aurelia Woode. She was also 'introduced' to Nathaniel Victor, her son and mortal enemy.
What confused her was that mother and son had different surnames. Was this some kind of marital tradition, the bride keeping her father's last name?
Her mother, Chelsea, cleared her throat. "So…"
Aurelia, being the sweetheart she was, nodded. A gesture that she was taking over.
"As I've mentioned, you must've heard about me somewhere," she addressed Beatrice, who nodded in confirmation.
"Saw you in some magazines and stuff."
The blonde laughed, and only then did Beatrice notice the uncanny resemblance between her and Nathaniel.
"Yes, I do acting, you're correct. So, let me explain the situation clearly," she leaned forward, "You work at Hamilton, yes?"
Her soft voice paired with a British accent was addicting, so charming that it compelled Beatrice to listen.
"Yes…?"
"To put it simply, I am looking for a bride for my son," she spoke slowly, like she was in no rush, "and a member of the Hamilton Board of Directors recommended you."
"..."
For a beat, there was silence.
Then, the brunette burst out laughing.
The men were taken aback, and the women watched, their brow creased in confusion.
Aurelia's smile stiffened.
"What's so funny, dear?"
"Ridiculous," she wheezed, gripping her stomach, "absolutely ridiculous. Who, exactly, recommended me?"
Aurelia frowned, "That, I can not tell you. I have promised to keep their identity a secret."
As the laughing died down, Beatrice fixed the woman with a serious expression, "Hear me out, ma'am. I'm sure there are plenty of lovely ladies for you to choose from. Why, of all people, would you choose me?"
"Then… why did your father agree?"
She froze.
Water trickled in the fountain outside. The air conditioner hummed.
She slowly turned to face her father.
He wore an unaffected expression, staring right back at her. "It benefits our company, so… why not? You need a husband anyway."
"...Seriously?"
"...What?"
"Fucking seriously?" she sprang up, a vein popping on her temple.
"Bea, love-" Chelsea got up too, already sensing the danger.
Without another word, she picked up her bag, and stormed out of the living room.
"Beatrice." Nicholas' commanding voice cut through the sudden momentum, but she did not care.
"Bea!" her mother pleaded, running after her. "My love, at least-"
"Have I ever told you, Mom," Beatrice spun around, her cheeks red from fury, "that I hate that old man's guts?"
She spoke her parting words, before leaving.
SLAM.
The main door was shut in Chelsea's face, the sound echoing through the Hall like a punch to the gut.
"Wh…" the sound died in Aurelia's throat before it even came out.
Nicholas rubbed his temple, "She can be a little… hot headed at times, please do not mind. It's a yes from us-"
"No."
He halted. Aurelia stiffened.
Nathaniel was standing up as well, his arms crossed, "I have no intention of forcing myself onto a woman."
Nicholas waved his hands, "No, no, it's not like that. She's just… unready. You see, she's rarely been in a rela-"
"Then the contract will proceed when she is ready," he concluded. "And that will only happen if she says the words with her own mouth."
Nathaniel walked out of the seating area calmly. His Mother glanced between the two men, and sighed. "I'm afraid it is what he says."
She quickly followed her son out to the garage, and the red Aston Martin soon drove off.
When back inside, Nicholas cursed and kicked at the air.
"The brat ruined it. Again."
Chelsea sighed heavily, "Love, please, think about her too."
"No, she's always thinking about herself. Can't she make such a small sacrifice for me?"
"Marriage is not a small sacrifice," she tried to reason, "it means tying yourself to someone for the rest of your life."
Just like I have done.
But Nicholas never listened to things he didn't want to hear.
"Listen here very closely, Chelsea," he grabbed her shoulders, "if she does not agree to this marriage, then she is no longer my daughter."
The woman's eyes widened, tears welling up in her eyes, "Nicho…"
But before she could say another word, the man was already climbing up the stairs, shutting down the world.
Once again.
. . .
"He's insane, Mother!"
Nathaniel's voice echoed through the closet.
His mother was doing her nightly skincare, rubbing serum into the soft skin.
"It can't be helped. If the girl accepts, then the marriage proceeds."
"And what if he forces her?"
"That is not our concern."
"Mother-"
"Nathan." He flinched.
She got up from her vanity, a crease on her brow. "Always remember, your marriage is up to me and me only. I have been given that right ever since I allowed you to pursue a profession of choice."
"This is ridiculous," he threw his hands up, exasperated, "she doesn't even like me. Much less have romantic feelings for me."
"I do not care. All you need to do is keep her as a wife for a year or two, and when she produces an heir, she will no longer be necessary."
"What? Mother, this is a real, living human being. How can you be so cruel?"
Her patience had grown thin, and she grabbed her son by the collar.
"Listen to me very closely, Nathaniel," her voice was a low growl as she roughly shoved him.
"In this world, nobody is a human being. Everyone is simply an asset. If you view someone as a human, that's going to come back and bite you very soon."
He winced, but he was not shocked. Outbursts like this were usual for his Mother, given their family history.
"When she gives consent, and I do not care through what means the father drives her to do so, you marry her, she gives birth to a son, we'll ensure she doesn't remain a complication. Understood?"
No matter how old he may get, his mother will always have him fully in her grasp.
"...Yes, Mother…"