Fortuitous: When Fate Brings Us Together

Chapter 7

Riona Garcia POV

“Honestly, it’s not just big, it’s like a corporate headquarters disguised as a house,” I whispered into the phone, my voice low and reverent despite my irritation. I paced the length of the bedroom, running a hand over the impossibly soft velvet duvet as I looked out at the sprawling, manicured gardens. The crystal chandeliers in this place probably cost more than my parents’ entire Silver Lake stock portfolio. “And yes, I saw him at lunch. He’s gorgeous, Maya. Completely wasted on his father’s tyranny, but absolutely prime real estate.”

Maya, my friend, squealed on the other end, her excitement momentarily drowning out the sound of my own calculating mind. “Seriously? The Ryan Martin? The brooding bad boy of Boston? You lucky b***h! Tell me everything—is he as cold as the tabloids say?”

I chuckled, a short, dismissive sound. “Cold, yes. But that just means he’s untouched. And watch your tone,” I chided, my voice hardening slightly. “He’s my future husband. And the merger of Majestic Holdings and Silver Lake is going to be my wedding gift.” I dropped my voice to a conspiratorial level, making sure the receiver was pressed tight to my ear. “Listen, Dad was completely vague, only saying Mr. Martin was an old friend, but the way Mr. Martin was ordering Ryan around today? This is definitely about the business merger. Ryan is the bait, and I’m the hook. And he doesn't even know he's been caught yet.”

I was just about to delve into my strategy—a detailed, five-step plan to make Ryan fall for my unique blend of charm and manufactured innocence, a plan that started with a carefully staged ‘accidental’ meeting—when a sharp knock interrupted me.

Tsk. Who could that be? The servants here were trained to be silent, and I certainly hadn't rung for Nora.

“Hold that thought, Maya. Someone’s at the door.” I put the phone to my chest, letting her hear the slight irritation in my sigh, and glided across the polished floor. I smoothed my clothes and adjusted the necklace—the one my mother, Sophie, always called "too gaudy" but was perfectly chosen to catch the light and the eye.

I yanked the door open and immediately dropped my perfect, plotting smile. It was Ethan Wells.

He stood there, looking far too casual for someone who deserved to be treated like dirt, his chestnut-brown hair slightly tousled, his sharp hazel eyes annoyingly observant. His presence alone was an insult to the opulence of the hallway.

“What do you want?” I snapped, already moving to slam the door. “I’m busy. Don't you have a box somewhere that needs ignoring?”

He thrust his hand out, catching the edge of the mahogany paneling before I could connect. He didn't even flinch. “I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t,” I retorted, leaning into the door with a frustrated groan.

His lips twisted into a small, frustratingly knowing smirk, the kind that made me want to slap him. Then he said the one thing that made me freeze, every carefully constructed thought scattering like glass.

“I know why you came here, Riona.”

My heart stopped, then hammered against my ribs. What? Did Dad tell him? No, Dad wouldn’t risk it. The promise Adrian Martin mentioned was only known by the fathers. Ethan was fishing.

I straightened up instantly, pulling my composure back like a shield. I forced a cool, slightly bored laugh. “Stop lying, Ethan. Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here for my studies. Boston Commonwealth, remember? Dad wants the best for his children. Don’t try to make up stories to feel important. You know you’re just a glorified chauffeur on this trip.”

He just kept staring, his expression unreadable, as if he were waiting for me to crack and confess the entire merger agreement. His silence was deafening, pressing on my nerves.

I met his gaze, holding it steady, then my lips curved into a deliberate, mocking smirk—a genuine one this time, fueled by contempt. “Now, if you’re quite finished trying to inject yourself into my new life, I have a very important conversation to get back to.”

With a decisive thud, I shut the door on his face, the noise echoing down the hall.

I leaned against the wood, listening for his footsteps to retreat. He’s a threat, I realized, sinking my nails into my palms. Ethan might not know the exact details—the marriage agreement—but he knew our father was lying. He was smart enough to figure out the whole transaction. I had to control him, or at least keep him far, far away from Ryan.

“Unbelievable,” I muttered, picking up my phone and sighing heavily. “Okay, Maya, where were we? Ah, yes. The engagement.”

But before I could continue, a loud, cold voice echoed from the hallway, just outside my door. It was closer this time.

“What are you doing here now!”

Ryan. His voice was rough, laced with immediate fury. He just gets annoyed by Ethan, doesn’t he? Interesting

I immediately cut the call—Maya could wait; this was a live plot development—and pulled open the door. I stepped into the hall, pasting a look of mild surprise on my face, as if I’d been drawn out by the noise and had just coincidentally happened to see Ryan.

“Oh, hi, Ryan! How are you?” I asked, aiming for a warm, slightly breathless tone, like a silly girl delighted to see a cute boy. My eyes quickly darted to Ethan. He was still there, leaning against the wall, observing.

Ryan ignored me entirely, his glare fixed on Ethan, who had retreated slightly. He was wearing a dark jacket, clearly about to go out.

I quickly stepped into the gap between them, ensuring my presence became the focus. “Ryan, wait! I was just thinking. How about you show me around? I mean I was only thirteen when I first visited, and I honestly don’t remember anything about the city. It feels like a completely foreign place. If you like to show me around?” I fluttered my lashes, pouring on the fake cuteness and making sure my tone was pleading but not desperate.

Ryan finally looked at me, his blue gaze sweeping over me with a calculated distance. “No. I’m busy.” He turned to walk away, making it clear the conversation was over.

“Brooo! Good morning!” A cheerful voice rang out, and here came Emma Martin. She bounced up to Ryan, a little cloud of sunshine and innocence that always seemed to clash with the mood of this house. “Where are you going? Are you going to work?”

Ryan simply ignored her, ready to make his exit, his back stiff with suppressed annoyance.

But then, the nuisance spoke again.

“Both are the same,” Ethan muttered, shaking his head and sighing dramatically before he turned to leave. He was clearly done with the hallway drama.

“Wait!” Emma called out, stopping him. “Do you want to see the town? How about…” She looked between me and Ethan, beaming. “How about we all go together! It will be fun!”

I needed to cut this off. “But Ryan said he’s busy. I wish he would show us around,” I said, trying to pull Ryan back into the conversation. I needed him, not his annoying stepsister.

Ryan remained completely silent. I watched his expression—it was tight, unreadable, but I sensed a deep, burning suspicion. He didn’t trust any of us, which meant my plan to charm him would be incredibly difficult.

Emma, bless her oblivious heart, didn’t notice the tension. “Fine, guys! What if my brother is busy? I will show you guys around! I know all the best places!” she said with determined cheer.

I had zero interest in an Emma-led tour. “Hmm, maybe next time, Emma. That’s sweet of you, but I still have a ton of unpacking to do, and I need to organize my closet. Maybe tomorrow.”

Emma’s bright expression fell instantly, the disappointment evident in her wide brown eyes. She looked genuinely hurt, and for a split second, I felt a pang of guilt—which I instantly crushed. She was just collateral damage.

“Fine then… guess maybe tomorrow.” She managed a small, hopeful smile, directing it mostly at Ethan.

Ryan, rolling his eyes in pure exasperation, finally decided to leave. “Duh,” he muttered under his breath, dismissing the entire interaction.

But just as he took a step, Ethan spoke, his voice smooth and sudden, and his eyes met mine for a brief moment, a spark of challenge in their depths.

“I’d love to see around, Emma. I am done with my unpacking, so I’m free.” He gave Emma a sincere, warm smile.

Emma’s smile came back, blindingly bright. “Really! I am so excited!”

Ryan froze mid-step. I watched his back; his shoulders went rigid, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He stayed like that for one tense second, completely still, before continuing down the hallway without a word. The air of suppressed anger trailing behind him was almost visible.

I watched him go, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across my face.

Got it.

His behavior yesterday—the way he snapped at Ethan in Emma’s room—it wasn’t just pure, simple hatred for Ethan. It was something deeper, something intensely focused on Emma. He was deliberately cruel to her, but he reacted violently when someone else showed her kindness. He wants to keep her isolated and miserable.

And Ethan? Ethan just handed me the key to my whole plan, unaware of the consequences.

‘Now I know how to make my move. So it’s not what it actually looks like,’ I thought, my eyes settling on Ethan, who was now laughing easily with Emma. ‘The hatred isn't what matters. The control is. Now I know how to control you, Mr. Ryan Martin.’

I had a new strategy. If I couldn't get close to Ryan directly, I'd get close to the one thing he hates to see happy. The engagement was a guarantee, but forcing Ryan to want me—to see me as the only person worthy of his time—that required leverage. And Emma Martin, poor, sweet, unwanted Emma, was now my perfect, unsuspecting tool.

I smirked as I spun back to my room, closing the door softly. Time to find a way to charm Emma. I need the perfect costume for my new role as her kind, new sister.

To be continued…