Whispers Of Powers
936 Words
Three weeks later.
My life stopped belonging to me the moment Klaude Croft's name was officially tied to mine.
There was no grand proposal. No kneeling under a thousand fairy lights. No diamond ring hidden in champagne.
Just one dinner.
One suffocating evening in the Croft dining hall where my parents and his signed away our futures like it was just another business merger.
And then the next day — boom.
The world found out.
VOGUE EXCLUSIVE:
"Montesque Heiress & Croft Empire Heir Set to Wed – The Engagement of the Century? A Union of Legacy and Power."
FORBES:
"The Angel & The Devil: Society's Most Talked-About Pairing Shakes the Elite Circles."
THE TIMES:
"Royalty Without Crowns: Inside the Alliance Between the Montesque Dynasty and the Croft Empire."
THE NEW YORK TIMES:
"Croft & Montesque: The Marriage That Will Redefine Global Influence."
It was everywhere.
On TV. On every glossy magazine cover. On every gossip blog with millions of followers.
They called us the "Angel & the Devil."
The "Marriage of the Century."
The "Most Powerful Union Since the Rothschilds."
And I hated every single one.
I didn't even know who leaked it. Not us. Not our families.
But the vultures didn't care.
They followed me everywhere. To class. To charity luncheons. To the goddamn grocery store when I just wanted to buy my favorite tea.
Click. Click. Click.
Reporters shouted my name like I owed them a piece of my soul.
"Anastasia! Is the wedding in Greece or Manila?!"
"Anastasia, are you excited to marry the Croft heir?!"
"Anastasia! Are you in love with Klaude?!"
And every time, I smiled.
The smile Mother drilled into me. The one that said, Yes, I'm perfect. Yes, I'm untouchable. Yes, I belong here.
But inside, I was screaming.
Klaude, on the other hand?
He basked in it.
"Klaude, care to confirm the rumors about the wedding date?"
"Klaude, are you and Lady Anastasia planning a spring ceremony?"
"Klaude! Is it true you bought her a private island as an engagement gift?"
And every single time, he just smirked.
"Rumors are fun, aren't they?" was his only answer.
No denial. No confirmation. Just infuriating, smug amusement like all of this was some game he was winning.
In public, we were the perfect couple.
But in private?
We were strangers.
No, worse.
We were two sharp objects in the same drawer, bound to cut each other open eventually.
Sometimes Klaude would ignore me completely, disappearing for days, weeks even, buried in "business."
And sometimes, he'd appear out of nowhere.
Like now.
The library was the only place in this house where I could breathe.
It smelled like old leather and lavender polish. It was quiet, safe, mine.
Or so I thought.
I was curled up on the velvet chaise with a book I wasn't really reading, when the door creaked open.
"Still pretending to be the perfect angel?"
My chest tightened at the sound of his voice. Low. Smooth. Dangerous.
I didn't look up. "Some of us don't have the luxury of being devils in public."
A soft laugh. Amused. Mocking.
He walked in like he owned the place, his presence filling the room like smoke.
"Careful, fiancée," he said, leaning lazily against the nearest shelf. "If you keep talking like that, people might think you're not as perfect as you pretend to be."
I finally looked at him. "And if I'm not?"
He smirked. That infuriating, knowing smirk. "Then you'd finally be interesting."
I hated that my pulse jumped when he said things like that.
I hated that his eyes never looked away, like he could peel me open and read every secret written underneath my skin.
"I heard you're flying to Rome for some charity function," he said casually, but there was something sharp underneath. "Already practicing to be the perfect little Croft wife?"
I glared. "I didn't realize being decent was such a crime to you."
"Oh, it's not a crime." He pushed off the shelf and walked toward me. Each step slow. Deliberate. Predatory. "It's just boring."
I swallowed. "Then maybe you should find someone more entertaining."
He stopped right in front of me, close enough that I could feel his breath on my face.
"Don't tempt me," he whispered.
My nails dug into the spine of my book. "You don't scare me, Klaude."
"Liar." He grinned like a wolf who knew he'd cornered its prey.
His hand reached up suddenly, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair away from my cheek.
My breath hitched.
"Do you know what I like about you, Anastasia?" he murmured, his voice dangerously low. "You want so badly to be good. But deep down..." His thumb traced my jaw. "You're just like me."
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
For one terrifying second, I thought he might kiss me.
And I didn't know if I'd stop him.
"Senyorita Anastasia?"
The door opened and Manang's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
I jumped back.
Klaude stepped away, his smirk firmly back in place. "Saved by the bell."
Manang's eyes darted between us, suspicious. "Dinner is ready. Your parents are waiting."
"Coming," I said, my voice trembling more than I wanted.
Klaude brushed past me, whispering as he left, "This isn't over."
The moment the door shut, I collapsed back into the chaise, heart hammering against my ribs.
Why does he do that to me?
Why does it feel like every time he's near, I can't tell if I'm about to fall... or burn?
This isn't an engagement.
It's a war.
And I don't know if I'm strong enough to win.
- Writer
