CHAPTER EIGHT
1426 Words
Saturday night arrived too soon.
Emerald found herself standing in front of the mirror, scowling at her reflection. She wore a simple but elegant emerald green dress—a subtle flex of her name—paired with minimal accessories. She wanted to look presentable but not like she was putting in effort for him.
Why am I even doing this?
The answer was simple: she had no choice.
After their phone call, Adrian had been very clear—his family wanted to spend more time with her, and saying no wasn’t an option.
"Ugh," she groaned, grabbing her purse.
She barely had time to take a deep breath before—
BEEP BEEP!
Emerald peered outside and, of course, saw his stupidly expensive black sports car parked right in front of her house. Adrian leaned against it, looking like he had all the time in the world. His black button-down sleeves were rolled up, showing his forearms, and his signature smirk was already in place.
Great. Just great.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out.
---
Emerald stared out of the car window, her arms crossed as Adrian drove through the streets of the city. She still couldn’t believe she had agreed to this. Well, technically, she didn’t agree—Adrian just decided for her, as usual.
“A penny for your thoughts?” Adrian’s deep voice broke the silence.
Emerald scoffed. “As if I’d sell my thoughts that cheap.”
He smirked, eyes still on the road. “Fine. A million.”
“Not even for a billion,” she shot back, shifting her glare toward him.
He let out a chuckle. “You wound me, sweetheart.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“But it suits you,” he said, the amusement in his voice making her want to punch him again.
She huffed and turned back to the window. She had barely recovered from her first dinner with the Montenegro family, and now here she was, heading straight to their mansion. According to Adrian, his parents wanted to spend more time with her.
Great. More forced bonding time.
She exhaled loudly, trying to calm herself. It wasn’t that she hated his family—no, actually, his parents were surprisingly kind. It was Adrian who made things unbearable.
The car slowed down as they approached a massive iron gate. The Montenegro mansion loomed ahead, an intimidating structure that screamed power and wealth. It was the kind of place you’d see in movies—where billionaires plotted world domination.
“Relax,” Adrian muttered, as if sensing her discomfort.
She scowled at him. “I am relaxed.”
He gave her a side glance, lips twitching. “Yeah, sure.”
The gates opened, and the car smoothly rolled inside. Emerald swallowed hard as they neared the grand entrance. Several men in suits—probably bodyguards—stood by, watching their arrival with sharp eyes.
“Welcome to hell,” she murmured under her breath.
Adrian heard that, of course, and he chuckled. “Sweetheart, if this is hell, then you must be my personal angel.”
She turned to him with the deadliest glare she could muster. “I swear, Adrian, if you don’t shut up—”
“Okay, okay.” He raised his hands in surrender, smirking. “Try to behave, hmm?”
“Try not to be annoying,” she shot back.
He just laughed as he parked the car.
—
The moment they entered the mansion, Emerald was immediately greeted by Adrian’s mother, Tita Celine, who looked absolutely delighted to see her.
“Oh, Emerald, you’re here!” Tita Celine clasped her hands together. “I hope Adrian didn’t drag you here too forcefully.”
“He did,” Emerald deadpanned.
Adrian put a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Why are you making me look bad in front of my mother?”
“Because you are bad.”
Tita Celine chuckled. “You two really have an interesting dynamic.”
“More like a nightmare,” Emerald muttered.
“Well, come in, hija. We’ve prepared a small gathering for you. Just family, nothing too overwhelming.”
Small?
Emerald followed Tita Celine into the lavishly decorated dining area—where at least ten other people were already seated.
Nothing too overwhelming, huh?
As soon as they stepped in, all heads turned to them. Emerald instinctively straightened her posture, suddenly feeling conscious.
“Everyone,” Tita Celine announced, “this is Emerald Suarez, Adrian’s fiancée.”
Fiancée.
Emerald fought the urge to cringe. The word still felt so foreign.
An older man, who she recognized as Adrian’s father, Tito Andrew, smiled warmly at her. “It’s good to see you again, Emerald.”
She nodded politely. “Good evening po, Tito Andrew.”
A woman sitting beside Tito Andrew leaned forward, inspecting her with keen eyes. “So, you’re the girl Adrian’s going to marry?”
Emerald swallowed. “Uhm… yes?”
The woman’s sharp gaze was unsettling. Before Emerald could react, Adrian casually placed a hand on her lower back, as if sensing her tension.
“Don’t scare her, Aunt Liza,” Adrian said smoothly. “She might run away before the wedding.”
Aunt Liza raised a brow. “Isn’t that what you want, Adrian?”
Emerald froze.
The air in the room seemed to shift. Adrian, however, remained calm, his smirk unwavering. “Who said that?”
Aunt Liza scoffed but didn’t say anything more. Emerald had no idea what that exchange was about, but it left a weird feeling in her gut.
As they took their seats, Emerald tried to push the thought aside. But she couldn’t ignore the way some of Adrian’s relatives were watching her—as if evaluating her, testing her.
She suddenly felt like a contestant in some high-stakes game.
—
Dinner was… awkward, to say the least.
Tito Andrew and Tita Celine were warm and welcoming, but the rest of the Montenegro family? Not so much. There were side glances, hushed whispers, and questions that felt more like interrogations.
“So, Emerald,” one of Adrian’s uncles started, “how do you feel about marrying into our family?”
Emerald gave a polite smile. “It was unexpected, but I’ll do my best to… adjust.”
“Adjust?” Another relative scoffed. “This isn’t just some ordinary marriage, dear. Being part of this family comes with responsibilities.”
Adrian suddenly placed his hand over hers, making her stiffen.
“She’ll be fine,” Adrian said, his tone slightly sharper than before. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Emerald stared at him, surprised by the possessiveness in his voice.
Aunt Liza smirked. “You sound so confident, Adrian.”
“I am,” he replied, his grip on Emerald’s hand tightening slightly.
Emerald barely touched her food after that. The atmosphere was just too suffocating.
After what felt like an eternity, dinner finally ended. As everyone dispersed, Tita Celine pulled Emerald aside.
“Hija,” Tita Celine said gently, “I know our family can be… intense.”
That was putting it lightly.
“But I want you to know that you don’t have to prove anything to anyone,” she continued. “Just be yourself.”
Emerald nodded, appreciating the reassurance. “Thank you, Tita Celine.”
Tita Celine patted her hand before excusing herself.
As Emerald stepped outside the dining hall, she nearly jumped when she found Adrian waiting for her.
“You survived,” he said, leaning against the wall.
“Barely,” she muttered.
He tilted his head. “Was it that bad?”
She let out a dry laugh. “Some of your relatives looked like they wanted to eat me alive.”
He smirked. “I wouldn’t let them.”
Emerald rolled her eyes. “Oh wow, so reassuring.”
Adrian stepped closer, lowering his voice. “They’re just testing you, sweetheart. They want to see if you’re strong enough to be part of this family.”
Emerald frowned. “Why does it feel like I’m joining some kind of mafia?”
Adrian didn’t respond.
She blinked. “Wait. Adrian—”
He smirked. “It’s getting late. I should take you home.”
“Adrian.”
“Let’s go, sweetheart.”
Emerald narrowed her eyes at him, but he just gave her his usual infuriating smirk before walking ahead.
Something about the Montenegro family felt… different.
And she was starting to think this arranged marriage was far more complicated than she ever imagined.
- Writer
