Chapter 8

• “Vienna, right? I heard you broke off the engagement long ago. Why are you back now?” Rose, Sanchez’s wife, asks with a smirk.
• Vienna lifts her gaze from her plate, forcing a polite smile and giving only a small nod.
• “I’m sure you’re here for the same reason everyone else is—money and power,” Rose adds with a laugh. “I can’t believe you’d sacrifice your life like this, marrying a blind man.”
• “Eat,” Alan warns from beside Vienna, his low voice carrying an edge. “Or you might not have a tongue left by the time you leave.”
• Rose’s grin freezes, but Benita jumps in smoothly from across the table. “Aunt is only worried about Vienna. She didn’t mean it like that.” She turns her attention to Vienna, her tone falsely sweet. “So, Vienna, when are you getting married to President Alan?”
• Vienna almost laughs. President Alan? The last time she saw Benita, she was calling him her man. Now the sudden formality is almost amusing. Vienna can’t help but wonder if Benita abandoned Alan only because she thought Karen would replace him after the accident.
• Benita sighs loudly when Vienna ignores her and quickly redirects her attention to Karen, who is speaking with Sanchez.
• Alan puts down his utensils after eating only a little. “I’ll leave first,” he says, rising from his seat. He reaches for Vienna’s hand and pulls her up with him.
• “You can’t leave yet,” Grandfather interrupts. “I have something else to discuss with both of you.” He signals to the butler. “Have them wait in the other room.”
• Vienna follows Alan into another part of the mansion. Soon, Grandfather enters, accompanied by Alan’s parents. Vienna presses her hand lightly against her stomach to quiet its grumble.
• “Vienna, dear, how have you been? I heard Alan already helped take care of your mother’s hospital bills,” Grandfather begins.
• Of course they all know, she thinks, nodding politely. “Good,” she answers shortly.
• “Alan must have told you why I called you here,” Grandfather continues. “It’s about your wedding.”
• Vienna stiffens in her seat. Her eyes flick toward Alan, silently accusing him for not warning her.
• “Hm. I don’t think we should rush into this wedding,” she begins slowly, keeping her tone calm. “I’ve been away in the countryside for a while. I need time to adjust, to familiarize myself with Alan again. It shouldn’t be rushed.”
• “You can do all that after marriage. You need to fully become part of the Clinton family,” Williams counters flatly.
• Vienna swallows and quickly finds another excuse. “I’d also like to wait until my mother has fully recovered before taking such a big step.”
• “For how long?” Grandfather presses.
• “Three months,” Vienna says, blurting out the first number that comes to her.
• “Three months?” Sasha scoffs. “Will your mother take that long to recover, or do you simply not want to marry at all while still enjoying our wealth? Are you looking down on my son now?”
• “No, it’s not like that at all,” Vienna protests, but Sasha cuts her off.
• “Then explain! You want our money and fame but refuse to marry? What kind of game are you playing?”
• “Mum, that’s enough!” Alan snaps, his voice sharp.
• Grandfather taps his staff against the floor once, and silence falls. “One month,” he declares. “I’ll allow one month. It won’t take longer than that for your mother to recover—unless there’s another reason you’re delaying.”
• “What other reason would there be?” Alan interjects, impatience bleeding into his voice.
• “I know you well, Alan. If you want to delay the wedding, it’s not her idea—it’s yours. I won’t be fooled twice,” Grandfather says sternly.
• Alan realizes the old man is catching on. He recalls Kellie’s ridiculous suggestion and seizes it. Taking Vienna’s hand, he says with a forced smile, “Actually, we’re planning pregnancy before marriage.”
• Vienna yanks her hand back, eyes widening, but Alan holds on firmly.
• “What?” both his parents exclaim in unison.
• “Alan, what nonsense are you speaking? Pregnancy before marriage? I’ll never allow it!” Sasha snaps instantly.
• But Alan sees the satisfied gleam in Grandfather’s eyes. He ignores everyone else.
• Vienna feels her palm sweating in his grip. What is he up to?
• “Pregnancy is definitely not in the contract she signed,” Sasha spits.
• “So you want her to get pregnant before the wedding?” Grandfather asks, leaning forward.
• Alan nods.
• “And Vienna agrees?” Grandfather turns his piercing gaze to her.
• Vienna hesitates, then gives the faintest nod.
• “Good,” Grandfather says, smiling at last. “Then live here and work hard at it.”
• “What?” Vienna blurts before she can stop herself.
• “How else will it happen quickly?” Grandfather says matter-of-factly.
• “No problem. But we’ll stay at my place,” Alan interrupts smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
• Vienna scoffs quietly. No problem? Of course, there’s a problem. Sharing the same room? The same bed?
• “Stay the night then,” Grandfather insists. “Begin from tonight.”
• Vienna’s chest tightens with panic. She looks to Alan, silently begging him to object. But he simply rises, forcing her to do the same. She bites her tongue to keep from lashing out and follows him to one of the mansion’s rooms.
• When the servants leave, Vienna rounds on him. “President Alan, this was not part of our agreement,” she says hotly.
• Alan walks toward her slowly. “Did you forget? You signed the contract. You didn’t even read it, did you? It says you’ll do whatever is asked of you—no matter what it is.”
• Vienna’s eyes widen. What? She remembers signing the paper without checking its contents. Still, she straightens her spine. “I don’t care what’s in it. I’m not sleeping with you.”
• Alan lets out a cold laugh. “You’re overestimating yourself. Even if you forced yourself on me, I wouldn’t touch you.” He turns away, feeling his way toward the bed with difficulty.
• Relief washes through Vienna. So he was just lying to Grandfather. But anger simmers too. Even if I forced myself? What does he take me for?
• She refuses to help as he struggles toward the bed, instead sinking into a chair. She hears him make a phone call but doesn’t care. Exhaustion drags her eyes closed.
• The sound of the door opening makes her stir. Kellie slips in quietly, speaks briefly to Alan, then approaches her. “Miss Vienna, this is a copy of what you signed,” she says, handing her a file.
• Vienna accepts it with a yawn, dropping it on the table before drifting back to sleep.
• When she wakes, it’s already dark. She blinks in confusion—she’s lying on the bed instead of the chair. Sliding into a pair of slippers, she checks her phone. Nearly seven. She quickly texts Vanessa, who replies that she’s with Nisan and Vienna needn’t worry.
• Turning, Vienna notices the untouched file still on the table. She picks it up, curiosity winning. As she reads, her mouth drops open.
• “This isn’t real,” she breathes. “This is like a personal assistant’s contract, not a fiancée’s. I really have to do all this?”
• She tosses the paper down in frustration and opens the door, only to nearly collide with Alan coming in.
• “Vienna?” he asks, reaching out to confirm by touching her hand. His voice holds a quiet reprimand. “Dinner’s been ready for an hour.”
• He starts forward but takes a wrong turn. Vienna rushes to his side, guiding him back gently. She realizes he isn’t as familiar with this place as she thought.
• Hand in hand, they make their way to the dining room, where Karen and Benita are still waiting. Vienna helps Alan into his seat and takes the chair beside him.