Strangers To Lovers

Prologue

Upon settling onto my VIG Chesterfield sofa, I felt a sense of unease. A peculiar image of my solitary existence had come to be associated with the smooth fabric, which was still free of stains. A wave of anger and rage overcame me as soon as I got up from my seat.

The expression on her face conveyed the depth of her dissatisfaction. I was unable to exert any control over the emotional whirlwind that she caused, despite the fact that her lips were a devilish red color and her nose was slender and turned up. I glanced away, inhaling slowly, and found comfort in the smooth leather on my back.

I couldn't help but think, "Are you planning to repeat this, really?" as it felt like we were going straight for a collision.

Every step she took was accompanied by the tinkling of her bracelets, encrusted with diamonds. On the other hand, as I went around the room, I noticed that I was raising one eyebrow in curiosity.

Her harsh demeanor persisted all through the talk, her bracelets moving in tandem to create a jingling symphony.

Her remarks pierce deeply. Her voice was resonant with family heritage. "It would be in our best interest if you started a family," she said. "Your actions create scandals that tarnish our reputation."

I adjusted my waistcoat, trying in vain to prevent another quarrel. I let out a heavy sigh.

She laughed and said, "I've never married at twenty-two," giving away a little of a narrative she hadn't shared. "Your father and I dated for years before tying the knot at twenty-nine."

I protested, but she insisted. "Our family's stability depends on our standing among other prestigious families." It is a responsibility that has been handed down through the years to marry into riches, not a question of desire."

In all honesty, I hadn't entered the world of marriage or children, and I was keen to find out how. Suppressing another counterargument, I sank back into the seat.

Thinking back on her remarks, I realized how distant my college days had looked. The dating app age arrived, but I had not been seduced by them. The young ladies who were interested in James and you weren't only attracted to your looks; they were also captivated by your personality.

"Besides being an educated man, you may also be a commendable partner," she said. "It's 2015, not 1765; love and marriage in America have evolved."

It became clear that I was a company owner. I was determined to grow my business, but would that mean getting married?

"Is that what you truly desire?" I asked, attempting to gain a deeper understanding of the compelling argument. She persisted in her resolve, shedding light on the long-standing custom of affluent families pooling their resources to secure long-term riches.

The path was obvious; our fate was the same as our ancestors'. She moved forward, a long shadow behind her, as if examining every motion I made. I wondered whether I should really trust her with the family company.

"Please promise to protect our legacy," I begged, waiting for her answer with bated breath.

Her response was resolute: "No, I don't plan to get married right now. I give you 25 more years of independence as a thank you for all you've done."

My reply echoed her resoluteness: "I agree, but not just now. For things to become better, effort has to be put in."

The hotel underwent updates for the current era, all the while retaining its classic Hilton feel. However, she seemed to be struggling within; an unsaid agony was obvious.

I wondered why she felt she had to push my hand away, trying to make sense of what she was doing. I wondered whether she would answer my question.

Her menacing smirk lurked there, causing me to feel both terror and anxiety. "If you don't agree, our vehicle and home are on the line." With an unwavering glare, she threatened to take them from you.