Shadows & Desires

CHAPTER FIVE: Dinner With The Chairman

Zayn’s POV

Vincent.

My jaw clenched before I even answered it. “What?”

I should've answered it differently. My words came out too cold, too curt.

“That’s not a polite way to talk to your Uncle, is it?” he teased.

Step-uncle. I never thought of him as my biological uncle.

Heat crawled up to my neck. My teeth gritted. The pressure, the frustration of it all, suffocated me, but I should've kept it calm.

“I’m not going to make this a big deal for you; I know you’ve been busy. I'm just awaiting your arrival this night.” he echoed, his voice sharp.

My fingers dug deep in my palm. I struggled to make a decision. “I’ll be there,” I said, finally.

“Good.” He said. “And…” he interrupted before I ended the call. “Make sure you look decent. We have guests.”

I paused before I finally ended the call.

When Vincent mentioned they had visitors, I already knew the whole concept of the dinner. He had never been subtle when it came to his plans for me. It was always about legacy, about heirs, about keeping the Macario name polished and untouchable. Visitors meant a wealthy family, a daughter dressed up like a prize, always hinting at a union between us. He always wanted me to be with someone of high lineage that I could breed with. I didn't even need to guess. Vincent had been shoving marriage candidates down my throat for, like, every day since I hit 25. Tonight would be no different.

I didn't let him know about Brooklyn yet, but I think it's high time I let him know.

We arrived at the Macario estate, which sat like a fortress of glass and stone lit up like a stage. I hated coming here. Not that I didn't like the serenity, I just hated the air that lingered in here. It reeked of expensive perfumes, money, and corruption, which I wasn't down for.

My driver stopped at the front entrance, and I stepped out, inhaling the night air. My chest tightened again; it was the same old dull nagging pressure that had been following me since the doctor’s message. I pressed my hands against my jacket for a second, pretending to adjust it, and then I straightened my shoulders.

That couldn't bother me. Not tonight. I couldn't let Vincent sniff weakness.

The doors swung open before I could even reach them. A butler I didn't care to know about bowed stiffly and led me through the marble hall. My eyes caught the chandeliers shining from afar, almost burning my eyes.

Vincent’s eyes darted straight into mine the moment I set foot in the dining hall.

His silver hair shone under the lights, and his face was carved into its usual expression of sharp satisfaction. He didn't look his age either. He looked younger, but I couldn't blame him; he got turned into one a little too soon.

My parents were high school sweethearts, and I was the result of a good time between both of them.

“Zayn,” Vincent said, his voice carrying authority even in a single word. “You’re late.”

“I had…”

The sight I caught cut my words short. I scanned the faces before me. I didn't recognize any of them at first. A young woman, composed and perfectly dressed, sat beside two older figures, whom I assumed were her parents.

The air surrounding her blew with confidence, almost like she was here to impress without speaking, almost too calculated.

Vincent’s gaze flickered back at me. “Hey? Why aren't you saying anything? Cat got your tongue?” He let out a chuckle.

I got a hint of what was going on, but I kept my silence, swallowing all the things I had prepared to defend myself.

I dragged out a seat across from the young woman, and Vincent smirked as if I had told a joke.

She tilted her head at me, her eyes sparkling with confidence, which I knew she only put up for me. I ignored it.

Her parents glared at me, waiting for me to utter a word to them. I had nothing to say to them either.

The dinner started off with silence; the clinking of the silverware was the only sound. The food was rich and arranged like artwork, but I barely tasted it. My eyes shifted from Vincent to the father and then back again.

It didn't take long. Vincent dabbed his mouth with a napkin and leaned back, his belly touching the table. “I think it’s the right time we introduce ourselves and talk like a family.”

I lifted a brow at the mention of the word "family."

“Zayn, my dear, sitting right there is Elara Rook, all the way from Australia. A fine woman. She was raised well by a family that understands legacy. You both will get along well.” A fake smile lined his face, and he tapped the back of my palm.

I didn't move, nor did I flinch. I cut my roasted lamb into pieces and chewed slowly.

Elara’s cheeks were as red as a tomato, but she didn’t take her eyes off me. She wanted me to see her, to see the effort she had put in for me tonight. Her hand brushed against my arm as she leaned closer, wanting to get my attention.

Vincent’s voice sharpened. “You both can get to know each other more so we can go ahead with the wedding. It’ll be all set in no time.”

Wedding?

I held back from telling him about Brooklyn. If he knew, it'd destroy everything and put her into more danger. If he finds out I've been with someone that's not of legacy, he's bound to hunt her down. And there was just something...

“What do you think, Zayn?” A tiny voice cut through my thoughts.

Elara.

I slowly looked up at her, shaking off her fingers from my palms.

Elara’s smile faltered, but only for a moment. She placed her hand fully on mine now, bold, as if staking a claim. I turned my palm over, pressed hers down on the table, raised my head, and glared at her. “Don’t touch me.”

Her breath caught, her hand jerking back. The entire table froze. Vincent’s jaw ticked. “My apologies, Mr. & Mrs. Rook.” He shifted his gaze back to me. “Zayn has just been so carried away with work; it might be affecting him. It didn’t mean he had no interest in your daughter.”

The fake smile he put on for them was just a show; Vincent has never been this nice to anyone.

I wiped my mouth with a napkin and pulled my chair out. “Forgive me, Uncle, but I don’t have time for this.”

I walked away, and the room stayed silent.

The drive home felt longer than usual. The city lights blurred past the window, and all I could think about was Brooklyn. The feeling I had about her still lingered in my head.

When I pulled into the driveway, the house was dark and silent. Too silent.

I got out of the car and stormed inside. I couldn't wait to meditate.

The silent air blew slowly. Something felt wrong…..