His Father's Bride

CHAPTER 005

Adrian stepping back into the ballroom felt like walking onto fire. The laughter, the soft jazz music, the gentle clinking of champagne glasses blurred against the weight in his chest as he stood behind the curtain, staring blankly at the velvet drapes. His heart echoed Clara’s words.

I’m calling off the wedding. He couldn’t say anything back then. He didn’t even have the chance to fight for it or to ask why its hurts so much.

He clenched his fists, his mind racing. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. He was going to fix it.

The event coordinator tapped him on the arm, breaking his thought. “Mr. Caldwell, its time.”

He swallowed hard. Then he stepped into the spotlight. The crowd erupted in applause. The press were ready to take pictures, and even his father stood off to the side, giving an expectant nod.

Adrian forced a breath into his lungs and walked up to the podium. The clapping died down.

“I want to thank you all for coming tonight,” he paused, his voice hoarse. “I was supposed to give an important announcement.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. He blinked and his throat tightened, “But plans have changed.”

There was a shift in the atmosphere. Eyebrows raised and there were a few whispers. “I apologize to those of you who traveled far. I know this evening came with high expectations and for that, I take full responsibility.”

Then a voice from the back whispered, “Is the wedding canceled?”

Adrian’s chest tensed, and he pretended like he didn’t hear the question. Instead, he stepped away from the microphone and added, “Thank you for your time, and please enjoy the rest of the evening.”

And just like that, he walked offstage.

The backstage was quiet, too quiet. Adrian closed the door behind him and leaned against it, fingers trembling. For the first time in his life, the pressure didn’t feel like something he could fix with a signature.

This was different, it was personal.

He whispered to himself, “Wait, is this what it feels like to…”

He didn’t get to finish his thoughts before the door flew open.

His father stormed in, a face full of rage. “What the hell did you just do?” he barked.

Adrian didn’t flinch, instead he turned his back and walked toward the bar, pouring himself a drink.

“Are you out of your mind?” his father snapped. “You embarrassed this family in front of the world, do you understand what you have done?”

“I do,” Adrian replied quietly.

“Then why the hell…”

“She called off the wedding.” Adrian interrupted, finally turning to face him. “Outside, just before I came in, and I was not going to stand in front of everyone and lie.”

His father’s eyes narrowed with disappointment. “So you couldn’t fix it, you couldn’t say something to buy time?”

Adrian chuckled bitterly. “She wasn’t angry, she was done. There’s a difference.”

His father paced like a caged animal, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to grab something. “This is because of that girl, right? The one in that damn photo. You brought scandal to my name and this company. Now it's not just the engagement that’s gone, my credibility is also in the mud because of your recklessness!”

Something in Adrian snapped. He set the glass down hard. “This wasn’t just my mess,” he said, his voice low but deadly. “You were the one that made that arrangement with her father on his deathbed, not for love but for power and loyalty like some ancient trade.”

“That’s what family legacy is,” his father spat. “You don’t get to choose.”

“But I do,” Adrian said, stepping forward. “I do now, because whatever this empire is, whatever you’re trying to preserve, it’s suffocating the people in it.”

They stared at each other, with the past, the pressure, and the unspoken resentments between them all boiling under the surface.

“I am tired of all of it,” he turned and walked out, leaving his father alone with the echo of those words.

Clara didn’t expect a knock on her door at nearly 10 pm, and she definitely didn't expect it to be Adrian. But there he was, soaked from the misty night, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, as if he ran on his way to her.

She stared at him from the doorway, refusing to move. “What do you want, Adrian?”

“I need to talk to you,” he said with his voice low.

Clara hesitated, then stepped aside without saying a word. He walked in slowly, as if he was entering a war zone where every word could spark another conflict. He stood in the center of her small living room, not sure where to begin. Clara leaned against the wall, her arms crossed.

“I should have told you,” Adrian finally said. “About Layla, about what she meant to me.”

Clara blinked, unsure about the last part. “Meant to?”

Adrian exhaled. “Yes, meant to. She was a secret I kept for so long, thinking I could bury it, but it buried me first.”

She remained mute, and just stared at him.

“I didn’t know how to explain to someone I was trying not to forget,” he continued. “While pretending I wasn’t falling for someone else.”

Clara blinked, but her expression didn't change.

“I didn’t plan to fall for you,” he said, stepping closer. “I didn’t expect to. You weren’t supposed to matter. But you do matter, Clara.”

Her breath caught, revealing the feelings she tried to conceal.

“You are good with words,” she said, her voice stiff. “Did you rehearse them on your way here?”

“No,” he replied as he stepped closer. “I mean it, every single word.”

She turned away, walking toward the kitchen to create distance. “Why now? Why did you suddenly realize I matter after everything that had happened? Why not before the lies and drama?”

“Because I wasn’t given the time to figure out this feeling,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve been trained to protect the business, the name, the legacy, but not my heart.”

Adrian moved closer to her, closer than before. Her back hit the counter, and she didn’t notice she had moved. He took her hand gently and pulled it to his chest. “You feel that too, right?”

His heart raced beneath her palm. “This is what you do to me,” he whispered.

Clara tried to pull her hands back, but he wouldn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in so close she could feel his breath on her face.

“Tell me I don’t matter,” he whispered. “Look into my eyes and say it and I will leave.”

She opened her mouth, but her voice failed her. At that moment, all she could think about was how close he was and how she wanted to give in, even if she might regret it later.

Her chest rose and fell quickly. Her eyes darted between his lips and gaze. Then she snapped and pulled away.

“No,” she said sharply. “I’m not some pawn you keep close to because it fits your plan.”

She stepped away completely, reclaiming her space.

“I have already told you,” she said quietly. “I’m calling off the wedding.”

Adrian stepped back as if he was just hearing those words for the first time. His face fell. “Even after telling you how I really feel?”

“Especially after telling me how you feel,” she replied. “Now please leave.”

He stared at her a bit longer as if he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. He just nodded and turned, walking to the door. He paused and glanced back one last time.

“You are not just part of a contract to me anymore,” he said softly.

The door clicked shut behind him, and Clara, despite her pride and the cold mask she wore, felt her knees weaken.

Not because of his words, but because part of her knew some of what he said was true.