Chapter 2 SECOND CHAPTER

Camille's Pov: My parents' living room looked like an architectural design from a popular interior design magazine called Living in Your Dreams. A huge chandelier light hanging from the ceiling, two carved wood tables, and two ridiculously expensive art collections placed on the wall right next to porcelain tea sets. Only that this living room isn't a dream; it's a nightmare. A very rich nightmare. The polished marble floors beneath my feet felt freezing, radiating a coldness that seeped straight through the soles of my shoes. "So the purpose of this meeting," my father began, his voice cutting through the silence, "is for us to come together as a family and celebrate." Fifty-six years old and still fit, Morgan Alonso looked every bit of the self-made CEO. He'd expanded Alonso's smart home and security importations from a small run shop to a multinational company in over one decade and a half, and the cold, sharp flick of his gaze my way was enough to draw the air straight out of my lungs, forcing me to shrink back against the plush velvet couch cushions. "Celebrate?" My brother, Aiden, asked, his voice flat and unamused as he traced the seam of his cufflink. "Yes, I knew that the family would only be rising to the top provided we all behaved ourselves properly." My mother beamed, her eyes darting toward the chandelier. Yeah, right. Typical Sarah Alonso. "Well, one of you has caught the eyes of a gentleman from one of the prestigious families." My father stared at me and my sister, Catilyn, his posture shifting with arrogant pride. "They are offering marriage and will be here tomorrow for dinner." "Really?" My sister squealed, her hands flying straight to her cheeks. "Which family is that dad?" She is the only person who gets to call Father that after so many years. After his business took off, we moved from our old apartment to Holland Park Estate here in London. My dad had insisted we all referred to him as 'Father', claiming it sounds proper and sophisticated, with the exception of my younger sister. "Montgomery's Family," my father answered proudly. "Montgomery's family?" The name hit me like a physical blow, my jaw slackening as the breath caught in my throat. All I remembered were pale ocean blue eyes and an icy gaze. I just encountered a Montgomery a few hours ago; the memory of his stifling presence still lingers on my skin like a static charge. "The most prestigious family here in London, Dad?" My sister asked excitedly, leaning forward so fast her golden waves whipped around her shoulders. "Yes, The Montgomerys'. I was surprised myself when I received the call from Elder Montgomery himself," my father narrated. "He called to ask me if I was open to his grandson getting married to my daughter. I was so surprised, and he asked to meet up with my whole family tomorrow so we could all discuss over dinner tomorrow." "Wow, I can't believe the Montgomerys' family finally noticed my beautiful daughter." My mother beamed even more. I could clearly see her imagine how her societal status would go to the exact top. "Yes, Mom, oh my God, I'm getting married to the wealthiest family ever. We need to go shopping tomorrow, Mom." My sister squealed excitedly. Wait, what's going on? Did the Montgomery family specifically say they were coming for Catilyn's hand in marriage? Or did I miss something? "Umm, Father, did the Montgomery family specify that they were coming for Catilyn?" I asked while perusing my father's facial features. "Who else do you expect that they are coming for?" My father snapped, his glare dropping ten degrees. "You? Of course not." "Honey, a girl like herself could only dream." My mother chimed in, wrinkling her nose. "Nobody knows you exist, darling, except for a few people, of course. If not, we wouldn't want to disappoint the Montgomery's family by not making the whole family gather for dinner tomorrow. You would have stayed in your room throughout." "Yes, Mom, can't she just stay in her room? We wouldn't want her to embarrass us with...whatever is wrong with her." My sister laughed, brushing off a strand of golden hair from her head. "Yes, honey, our sweet pea is right. What if she embarrasses us with that behaviour of hers? Wouldn't it be better to cook up some excuses about why she couldn't be around?" My mother agreed, looking at my father, oblivious to the fact that I was here and present listening to everything she's saying. They never really did care anyway. "Mother, Father said they demanded that everyone be present for tomorrow's dinner." My brother replied before my father could answer, his jaw ticking slightly as he held our father's gaze. "The dinner will take two to three hours. I'm sure Camille can keep her behaviour in check for those few hours. Right, Cam?" "Yeah, right. It's no big deal; I mean, it's just dinner. You all don't have to worry about a thing." I stammered, trying to assure my family's probing eyes, digging my fingernails into my palms to keep my hands steady. "Okay, since that's settled. You all are dismissed. Aiden, see me in the study now." My father stood up, ending the meeting, and walked towards his study room with my brother behind him.

Malakai's POV: "Man, c'mon, are you really getting married? An arranged marriage?" Cole asked, looking both shocked and confused. "Why would your grandfather do that to you? Is he perhaps in need of great grandkids?" Sometimes Cole, who happens to be my best friend and maybe confidant, could be a pain in the ass. I was working in my office when he decided to barge in unannounced, dragging an ergonomic chair across the hardwood floor with a grating screech and collapsing into it. If my personal assistant possessed a spine, the intercom on my desk would have chimed five minutes ago to announce him. "Man, answer me. This is not the time to be all mysteriously silent, you know?" He pressed, leaning forward. "Do you want to get married or not? Who is the bride, by the way? Which family? Is she pretty? Oh my God, what if she's ugly or has a scar or even a psycho?" He is throwing multiple questions at me without even waiting for a damn answer. Not that I will give it to him anyways. "This marriage is simply one based on convenience and a promise." I responded vaguely, refusing to look up from my spreadsheet, the endless columns of figures beginning to blur together behind my aching temples. I wasn't interested in talking about my so-called marriage at this time. It's too much of a hassle. I'd rather be focused on the company and try to secure this MultiBillionaire marketing deal file on my desk that I was working on. It's been giving me a headache for the past week. And I never have headaches, not now, not ever. But of course, Cole seems to have other plans. "Based on convenience and a promise?" He echoed, snorting. "Since when did you need a marriage of convenience? You are as convenient as anyone would ever wish to be. Or is the company going bankrupt?" My eyebrows spiked up at that, and I dropped my pen, its metallic clatter breaking the heavy silence of the room. "The Montgomery's Marketing Corporations has been around since my great-grandfather, long even before you were born. It doesn't go bankrupt." I replied with much confidence. "Yeah, all right enough bragging." He waved a dismissive hand. "But which family are you getting married into? Do you know anything about them?" "No," I answered. "Grandfather said the Alonsos, but I haven't done any research on them yet, and dinner with the family is tomorrow. I might as well do my research now instead of going blindly." I picked up my cell phone, putting a call to my most trusted bodyguard. "Hello Sean, get me information on the Alonso family. Don't leave a single thing out. I need it before the end of today." "Right away, boss." He answered, I ended the call and met with Cole's amused gaze. "There, satisfied? I should be able to get some answers to your pending questions since you are apparently more invested in my marriage than I am." "Yeah, sure." He laughed, standing up from his seat. "I have got to go now; I have a job in Milan tomorrow. I wouldn't want to miss my flight. Don't miss me too much, and say hello to your future bride for me." Sneaky bastard. "But you only just arrived, and here I was thinking I could count on you to represent me tomorrow at the dinner." I smirked. "Whoa whoa, we are best friends, Malakai, but I can't get married for you. Your grandfather would murder me, then wake me up and roast me alive again." He said in between fits of laughter. "You Montgomeries are a scary bunch. Save me the details for when I return. I will be busy for a while, though. Reply to my texts, okay?" I didn't answer. I didn't have to. He groaned and mumbled something which sounded pretty much like "Fuck you" heading out the double doors, sealing out his parting remarks and sounds of his flirty passes at my supposed personal assistant in the hallway. I really should replace her, preferably with a male this time. Still, as I leaned back in my leather chair and rubbed the bridge of my nose, I knew Cole was right about one thing. We, the Montgomerys, are a scary bunch. A family right at the top of the wealthy chain here in London and one you wouldn't want to mess with. My family might be the most prestigious family that everyone wants to associate with, but we were bloody vultures on the inside. Always waging wars amongst and within ourselves. My future bride doesn't have a clue what she's about to get into; I hope she's strong enough not to get burnt.