Private Terms

5. Meet His Parents

Chapter 5

I barely slept that night.Thinking about how I didn’t have to worried about my debts for the first time in months. Tristan had kept his word. Before midnight, every outstanding loan under my name had been settled. The notifications stopped coming one by one, and for the first time in what felt like forever, my phone remained silent.

No threats.

No insults.

Nothing.

I should have been celebrating. Instead, I was lying on my mattress, staring at the ceiling and thinking about tomorrow.

His mother wanted to meet me. I had agreed to pretend to be Tristan Lysander's girlfriend, but I hadn't expected to be introduced to his family this quickly. Especially not his mother.

What kind of woman was she? Strict? Elegant? Terrifying? Probably all three.

I groaned and covered my face with a pillow. This was ridiculous. I had survived debt collectors, financial disaster, and four years of making terrible decisions. Surely, I could survive one wealthy mother.

Could I?

The next morning, I received a message from Tristan.

Be ready at ten.

That was it.

No good morning.

No explanation.

No other words.

I stared at the message for several seconds. Typical.

I typed a reply.

Where are we going?

His response came almost immediately.

Shopping.

I frowned.

Shopping for what?

Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

Your clothes.

I sat upright. My clothes? Before I could reply, another message came through.

You can't meet my parents dressed like that.

I looked down at myself. I was wearing an oversized T-shirt and a pair of old sweatpants. I couldn't even argue with him. Still, his bluntness irritated me.

I can dress properly.

His response came seconds later.

That's not what I meant.

I narrowed my eyes at the screen. Then what exactly did he mean? I didn't bother asking.

At ten o'clock sharp, a black car stopped in front of my boarding house. I stepped outside with my bag and immediately noticed Tristan behind the wheel.bI opened the passenger door.

"You drive yourself?"

"Sometimes."

I got in. He glanced at me briefly before starting the engine.bFor several minutes, neither of us spoke.bI stared out the window.

This was strange. Yesterday, he had been a complete stranger. Today, I was sitting beside him in his car, on my way to buy clothes for the role of his girlfriend—fake girlfriend.

I almost laughed. "Where are we going?"

"Senayan."

"Why?"

"Because that's where the boutique is."

I nodded.bThen silence returned. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you always talk this little?"

His eyes remained on the road. "Yes."

"That's unfortunate."

"Why?"

"Because I'm supposed to pretend we're dating."

He finally looked at me. "What does that have to do with talking?"

"People who date usually talk."

"We'll talk when necessary."

I stared at him. "You really are difficult."

"I've been told."

I couldn't help smiling. It was the first time I had seen even the slightest hint of humor from him.

When we arrived at the boutique, I immediately felt uncomfortable. I had seen the place online before. Celebrities shopped here. Socialites. People who could spend the equivalent of my tuition fees on a single dress without thinking twice. And now I was walking inside with Tristan.

A sales assistant greeted us immediately. "Good morning, Mr. Lysander."

Tristan nodded. "I need a dress for her."

The woman smiled at me. "Of course."

She looked me up and down. Not judgmentally. Professionally. "Is there a particular style you're looking for?"

I opened my mouth.

Tristan answered first. "Elegant. Nothing too revealing."

I looked at him. "I can choose my own dress."

"I know."

"Then let me."

He shrugged. "Go ahead."

I walked through the racks. There were countless dresses, each more beautiful than the last. But eventually, one caught my attention. It was simple and elegant. A soft-colored evening dress with a clean silhouette that hugged my figure without being overly revealing.

I took it into the fitting room.

When I stepped out several minutes later, the sales assistant smiled. "That looks perfect on you."

I looked toward Tristan. He was sitting on one of the chairs, checking his phone. When he finally looked up, his eyes stayed on me for a few seconds longer than necessary.

"That one."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

I raised an eyebrow. "You don't even want to see another one?"

"No."

"You really are efficient."

"I don't see the point in wasting time."

I rolled my eyes. Of course.

After the dress was purchased, Tristan took me to a salon. That was when I realized this wasn't simply about buying clothes. They styled my hair, did my makeup, and even took care of my nails.

I barely recognized myself when I finally looked in the mirror. I still looked like me. But... polished. Expensive like someone who belonged beside Tristan Lysander.

I stared at my reflection. For a moment, I wondered what my university friends would say if they saw me now.

Then I remembered. They didn't know anything. And perhaps it was better that way.

When I stepped outside, Tristan was waiting. He looked at me. His gaze traveled from my hair to my dress before returning to my eyes.

"Better."

I crossed my arms. "That's the nicest compliment you've given me."

"I wasn't complimenting you."

I scoffed. "Of course you weren't."

We got back into the car.

This time, I felt slightly less nervous.

Until the car entered an enormous residential complex in South Jakarta. I stared through the window. Everything was immaculate. Huge gates. Private security.bMassive houses hidden behind walls and manicured gardens.

My stomach twisted. This was another world. A world I had only ever seen in magazines and social media posts.

Tristan's car stopped in front of a large house. Several staff members were already waiting. One of them opened the door for me.

I stepped out. My heart started beating faster.

Tristan came around the car and stood beside me. "Remember the agreement."

I looked at him. "I know."

"Don't be nervous."

"I'm not."

He raised an eyebrow.

I sighed. "Fine. Maybe a little."

"You'll be fine."

His voice was unexpectedly softer. I looked at him. For a moment, our eyes met. Then he offered his arm.

I hesitated. This was part of the act.bNothing more.

I slipped my arm through his. The moment we stepped inside, several servants greeted us politely.

"Welcome home, Sir."

Then I saw them. A man and a woman were sitting in the main living room. His father looked calm, perhaps even curious. His mother was different. Elegant. Poised. Beautiful in a way that made her intimidating rather than approachable. Her eyes immediately settled on me. From head to toe.

I felt like I was being inspected.

Tristan didn't seem bothered.

"Mom. Dad." Then he looked at me.b"This is Leia."

His mother remained silent for a moment. Then she smiled. It was polite. Perfect. And somehow, that made me even more nervous.

"Come closer, dear."

I obeyed.

She studied my face again. "You're prettier than I expected."

I forced a smile. "Thank you, Ma'am."

"Don't call me that."

She gestured toward the seat opposite her.

"Sit."

I sat.

Tristan took the seat beside me.

His father finally spoke.

"So, Leia. Tell us about yourself."

I took a breath. "My name is Amara Faleia. I'm a final-year university student."

His mother's expression changed slightly. "A student?"

"Yes."

"What are you studying?"

I answered.

"History."

"And what does your family do?"

The question came quickly. I paused. "My family isn't involved in business."

She smiled faintly. "I see."

I couldn't tell whether that was good or bad. Then she asked another question. And another; where I lived. How long I'd known Tristan. How we met. Why I had never been introduced to the family before.

I answered each question as calmly as I could. Fortunately, the contract had prepared me for this. But then she asked the one question I hadn't expected.

"How serious are you about my son?"

The room went silent.

I glanced at Tristan. His expression remained unreadable. I looked back at his mother.

I smiled. "Very serious."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. And somehow, I knew. This dinner was going to be much harder than I thought.