Chapter 82
Audrey’s POV:
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Clara nodded, her fingers fidgeting with the cloth napkin in her lap.
The restaurant’s ambient lighting cast soft shadows across her face, partially masking the complex emotions playing across her features.
“Does he…” I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “Does Finley actually know about this engagement?”
Her eyes met mine briefly before she nodded again. The confirmation only deepened my confusion.
“Then is it…” I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “Is it that Finley doesn’t want this? Is he being forced into it somehow?”
Clara shook her head. “I don’t know his reaction. I contacted you as soon as I found out about the engagement.”
She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself. “Finley left his family years ago. He went abroad specifically to escape his family. This
marriage…”
She paused, her voice growing quieter. “This arrangement is meant to bring him back into the fold, back to Chiago permanently.”
Though Clara’s expression remained neutral, I could see a flicker of something in her eyes–guilt, perhaps, or uncertainty.
She said nothing more, but her silence spoke volumes.
“Is your family facing financial difficulties?” I asked worriedly, leaning forward.
“Clara, you don’t have to sacrifice your marriage for this. Tell me what’s going on and maybe we can find another solution together.”
Clara shook her head firmly. “It’s not a financial problem, Audrey.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, reaching across the table to touch her hand.
Clara sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “My father wants to use my marriage to consolidate power. ”
She took a sip of water, her hand trembling slightly.
“My mother knows I’ve always had feelings for Finley. And since Finley’s family is incredibly influential…” She trailed off, looking down at
the table.
“Did your mother choose the Finley family? I finished for her, the pieces finally clicking into place.
Clara nodded. “For my happiness, she said. She approached Finley’s family with the proposal, thinking they’d probably refuse.”
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A bitter smile crossed her lips. “To everyone’s surprise, they agreed immediately.”
I sat back in my chair, trying to make sense of it all.
“Wait a minute,” I said, studying her troubled expression. “So you’re anxious about how Finley feels about this arrangement, aren’t you? Does he even know this is happening? Or did his family accept without consulting him?”
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Clara nodded miserably, her eyes downcast.
“Yes. That’s exactly what’s been keeping me up at night.” She bit her lip. “I’m terrified he resents me for it.
“Have you ever thought about sitting down and talking with him?” I asked gently.
She shook her head. “I haven’t dared to contact him directly since the announcement. Every time I think about calling him, I freeze up. What if he hates me now, Audrey? What if he blames me for being forced back into a life he tried so hard to escape?”
I squeezed her hand. “I doubt Finley would blame you. I could try to talk to him if you want.
“Would you?” Hope flickered in her eyes before dimming again. “But what if he tells you he’s completely against it?”
“Then at least you’d know the truth,” I said softly.
“And what about you, Clara? Is this really what you want?” I continued,” Entering a marriage with emotional uncertainty? I know you’ve
loved him for years, but this situation is… complicated.”
Clara stared into her water glass.” That I could make him happy if given the chance.”
Her eyes met mine, filled with a conflicted mixture of hope and resignation.
“I’ve loved him for so long, Audrey. Maybe this is my only chance. If I don’t marry him, I will have to marry another person who might be
a complete stranger. If possible, I don’t want to miss him.”
I reached for her hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be there for you, whatever you need.”
Clara’s smile was small but genuine. “Thank you.”
We had just ended the conversation when two men in dark suits approached our table.
Clara’s face fell as she spotted them.
“Miss Willow,” one of them said stiffly. “Your father has requested you return home immediately.”
I frowned, looking between Clara and the men. “Can’t it wait? We haven’t even finished dinner.”
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“I’m afraid not,” the taller of the two replied, not even bothering to look at me. “The time limit for going out has been reached. The car is
waiting outside.”
Clara sighed, gathering her purse. “I’m sorry, Audrey. I have to go.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked, concerned by the formality of these men and Clara’s resigned acceptance.
As she stood, she leaned down and whispered, “It’s fine. Just my father’s way of making sure I don’t run off before the wedding.
She rolled her eyes, but I could see the strain behind her attempt at humor.
“That’s…” I couldn’t even find the words. It sounded more like imprisonment than protection.
*Be careful going home,” she said, squeezing my shoulder. “And text me when you get there safely.”
I watched helplessly as Clara was escorted out of the restaurant, the men flanking her like prison guards rather than protectors.
The scene left me with a sinking feeling.
I headed toward the elevator, my thoughts a chaotic jumble of worry for Clara and these arranged marriages that seemed to trap the important person in my life–Clara and Finley now, and me before.
As the elevator descended to the underground parking garage, I suddenly remembered I had forgotten to tell Caspar I’d found my own
place to stay.
With everything happening with Clara, it had completely slipped my mind.
I pulled out my phone as I stepped into the dimly lit garage, tapping out a quick message:
I moved house tonight. Won’t be coming back to the estate. Tell Noah not to wait up for me.
I hit send and slipped the phone back into my purse, fishing for my car keys as I approached my vehicle.
The garage was eerily quiet at this hour, my footsteps echoing against the concrete.
I pressed the unlock button, watching the headlights flash in response.
Just as I reached for the door handle, I heard footsteps behind me–slow, deliberate, and getting closer.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I froze.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
