A Weekend in The Lion's Den
798 Words
Khan stood at the entrance of the Carter estate, her grip tightening on the handle of her suitcase. The mansion loomed before her, a testament to old money and power, its vast gardens and towering columns making it feel more like a palace than a home.
Beside her, Liam exuded his usual cold indifference, hands in his pockets, eyes unreadable. The crisp morning air did nothing to ease the tension coiling in her stomach.
“Last chance to run,” Khan muttered under her breath.
Liam barely spared her a glance. “If you run, you won’t get paid.”
Khan rolled her eyes. “Oh, well, when you put it that way.”
Before Liam could respond, the massive front doors opened, and a sharply dressed woman in her fifties stepped out, her gaze sweeping over Khan with the efficiency of a seasoned critic.
“Liam.” The woman’s voice was smooth but carried an edge.
Liam nodded. “Aunt Vivian.”
Khan’s spine stiffened. She had read about Vivian Carter—Harold’s only daughter, a formidable businesswoman in her own right. Unlike Liam, she had never been in line for the Carter empire, but she wielded influence in the family like a queen behind the throne.
Vivian’s assessing gaze shifted to Khan. “So, this is your fiancée.”
Khan smiled, extending a hand. “Khan Coco. It’s nice to meet you.”
Vivian’s expression didn’t change, but she shook Khan’s hand briefly before turning back toward the entrance. “Everyone’s waiting. Don’t keep Father waiting too long.”
Khan exchanged a quick glance with Liam before following Vivian inside.
---
The grand dining room was already full when they arrived. A long table, polished to perfection, stretched across the space, lined with expensive china and silverware. The Carter family sat in their designated places, their gazes turning toward Khan as she entered.
Harold Carter sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. Beside him sat an older man Khan recognized from business magazines as Edward Carter, Harold’s younger brother. Several others, who she assumed were cousins and distant relatives, filled the seats.
And then there was Khloe Bill.
The supermodel sat near the far end of the table, her icy blue eyes locked onto Khan with a look that was anything but friendly. Clad in a sleek designer dress, she exuded effortless elegance and privilege—everything Khan wasn’t.
Khan didn’t need to ask why she was here. Khloe wasn’t just a former lover; she was a reminder. A warning.
Liam led Khan to their seats near Harold. As soon as they sat, Harold set down his glass and studied them both.
“So,” he said, his tone casual but laced with something deeper. “Tell me, Khan, how did you and Liam meet?”
Khan knew this was coming. She had prepared for it, rehearsed it in her mind.
She smiled, turning to Liam as if reminiscing. “It was a coffee shop,” she said smoothly. “I spilled an entire latte on him.”
A few chuckles rose from the table. Even Harold’s lips twitched slightly.
Liam leaned back in his chair, playing along. “Ruined a five-thousand-dollar suit.”
Khan shrugged. “It was a terrible suit.”
That earned a few more laughs. Even Vivian raised an eyebrow.
“And you fell in love after that?” Harold pressed.
Khan placed a hand on Liam’s arm, squeezing it gently. “Not immediately. He was brooding and impossible. But eventually, he grew on me.” She turned to Liam with an innocent smile. “Like a very expensive fungus.”
Liam’s lips quirked slightly, but he played his part well, placing his hand over hers. “And she never stopped talking,” he said dryly. “It was exhausting.”
The room filled with polite laughter, but Khan could still feel the weight of scrutiny.
Then, Khloe’s voice cut through the air.
“How romantic,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She leaned forward, swirling the wine in her glass. “Funny, Liam, you never mentioned her before.”
Khan’s smile didn’t falter. “Well, not every love story needs an audience, right?”
Khloe’s gaze flickered with something unreadable, but she didn’t push further.
Harold, however, wasn’t done. “Marriage is a lifetime commitment,” he said, watching Khan closely. “Are you prepared for that, Khan? To be a Carter?”
Khan met his gaze, refusing to look away. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
Harold held her stare for a long moment before nodding. “Then we’ll see if your actions match your words.”
The challenge was clear.
This weekend wasn’t just a test—it was a battlefield.
- Writer
