Claimed by my twins father

DANIELLA'S POV If you asked me today who my best friend was, or what I liked most, I'd say silence. Not that I liked it so much but it was always there. Always waiting. Always listening. It never judged, never mocked, never left me. Before, the answer was easy. Mom was my best friend, and picnics with her were my favorite thing in the world. She’d pack homemade sandwiches, juice in old glass bottles, and bring a red checkered blanket. We’d talk for hours. Laugh and sing sometimes. That was before she got sick. Before she slipped away and left me in this cold, echoing house with Dad, his new wife Helda, and her daughter Vaela. Now, I just glared at myself in the mirror. My arms were around my stomach, trying to hide what could not be hidden. My shoulders slumped forward as if I could fold into myself and disappear. I was so… fat. Fat and ugly. Fugly, even. Would you still want me? We'd been promised since we were kids. There's always been this understanding between our families, as if there was an unseen shadow that accompanied us. Our parents were hosting a dinner party tonight. They were going to officially announce our engagement. And I wanted to slink under my bed and hide. Ever since Mom died, and ever since Dad married that wicked crone, Helda, things have been different. I'd been different. I wasn't the svelte, bubbly girl I was in my youth anymore. I'd gained weight to feel something. Anything. And now, all I knew that was left of me was weight and silence. A soft knock on the door pulled me out of my trance. One of the members of the household staff came in, bowed minimally, and said, "Miss Daniella, it's time." I nodded and followed her. We walked down long, curved corridors, the ring of my shoes echoing off the marble floors. Down the grand staircase and into the foyer, where Dad stood next to Helda and Vaela. He looked up for an instant when I arrived. "You're here," he said to me, distracted, before he turned back to his phone. Helda sized me up and sniffed, curling her lipstick. "Finally," she muttered to herself. Vaela didn't attempt to hide her disdain. She looked over me as if I were something on the edge of her dress. "Do your best to smile tonight, Daniella," she said sweetly. "It's a celebration, after all." I didn't say anything. I stood with fingers interlocked before me, pulse racing as the roar of automobile engines approached the driveway. Barely seconds passed before the front doors opened, and his family stepped in. His mum, elegant in navy blue, smiled brightly. "Delightful to greet everyone once again," she told Dad and kissed both cheeks. "Our kids," Davon’s father said, also smiling widely. "All grown up now." They all broke up, creating a small gap in between our clans. He was staring upwards, probably in the middle of saying something, but when he spotted me, he stopped talking. He looked from my face to my waist, and then up again. A frown creased his brow. "Daniella?" he asked, incredulity very well-concealed in his voice. I swallowed, cheeks burning. "Yeah," I whispered, taking a step forward. I tried to hold my head up, shoulders back, but I could sense the burden of all eyes upon me and my legs were already trembling. There was a heavy silence. Davon's dad slapped a hand on his son's shoulder and chuckled. "Maybe we should let the lovebirds have their moment, then?" The group politely chuckled. Had a small, tight smile and leaned forward to hug me. It was stiff, offish, he barely touched before stepping back. Dad clapped his hands together. "Well, shall we all go into the dining room?" He led off, assuming I'd follow. I did, assuming they would follow with me. Instead, he pushed past without looking, directly at Vaela. She screamed like a schoolgirl. "Davon!" she said, hugging him. "You look wonderful!" She wrapped her arm around his, her body angling into his, as they walked off together, leaving me standing alone. I stood stock still for a moment. Everyone else had already proceeded, chatting and laughing as they disappeared into the dining room. I looked over at the foyer mirror. My reflection glared back; fat cheeks, bloated arms, uncertain eyes. I grimaced and tried to steady myself, fingers toying with the hem of my dress. Then I took a breath, straightened up, and stepped in after them. — Dinner was an extremely uncomfortable experience. At least, on my behalf. The long dinner table was beautifully laid with golden candelabras and gleaming silverware, but even the fine tablecloth and soft lights failed to ease the tension raining down on my lap. Was sitting beside me, so close I could hear him breathing, and yet at no point did his arm brush against mine. He did not even glance at me. Our parents resumed the conversation, their voices drowning the silence between us with talks of stocks, mergers, shipping lines, and quarterly earnings. "Oil prices are finally stabilizing," Dad said, swirling the wine in his glass. "Which means we can go ahead with the offshore expansion." Carl, Davon's father, nodded vigorously. "Exactly why this marriage between our families is so crucial. Daniella and Davon's wedding will be more than two hearts meeting. It'll be a sound business partnership." He let out a noise, as if he were going along, but his eyes never left his plate. I tried to talk, twisting halfway in his direction. "Did you still have your dog? The golden retriever you brought home last year?” He did not look at me. "No. Gave it away." "Oh," I said, softly. The air was chillier than normal even with the chandelier light overhead. Even Helda and Vaela appeared cozier than I did. Vaela still kept darting glances around the table, smiling deviously whenever she just happened to look up. When plates were taken away and wine was topped off, silence fell on the table. Carl stood up and cleared his throat. He gently tapped his glass with a fork to get everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice low and full of confidence. "Tonight is a truly special evening in both our families' lives and Daniella have been friends since childhood. And now, they'll soon be joined in a union that not only secures their future, but strengthens the legacy of the Wellington and Thorne names." They all grunted in agreement, raising glasses. I gave a sideways glance to Davon. His jaw was clenched so hard a muscle had started to throb beneath his cheekbone. His fists were bunched on his lap, white knuckles curled. Carl went on, a proud papa. "This wedding is not about tradition, it's a promise. A future. Our kids will carry on what we've begun Then Dad stood up beside him, his own face even more victorious. "Good fortune and good sense, Carl. Good fortune and good sense. I couldn't be prouder. Daniella lost her mother, but she's become a lovely woman. And I know that her mother would have been so proud of this day. So, keeping that in mind." He turned to me, and then to Davon. "We're thrilled to announce the betrothal of Thorne and Daniella Wellington." Applause began to ripple through the room, soft claps, smiles, celebratory murmurs. But then Davon. C stood up. The sound of his chair scraping back was loud, jarring. Dad faltered mid-sentence and turned toward him. “Davon?” he asked, confusedly. Davon’s face was hard. Cold. His eyes scanned the table, then finally landed on me. He didn’t soften. “I’m not marrying her,” he said, his voice clear and sharp like a blade. A stunned silence fell on the room. Some nervously laughed, believing it was a joke. Carl nervously laughed. "Son, now's not the time to play games…" "I'm serious," he cut him off. "I won't make her my mate." There was a clear gasp. I blinked, attempting to get a grip on what was happening. Was this a dream? A nightmare? He stared at me. "She's wolf less. Fat. Weak. If I marry her, it'll be for nothing. It'll ruin my reputation." A fork clattered on the table. The metallic clang of it broke into the stunned silence. Then he turned on his heel and strode out of the room. Tension broke like twine. Voices around me burst; Carl standing, ordering him to return, Helda trying to pretend she was mistaken, Vaela smiling into a wineglass, and Dad yelling for someone to stop him. But I was there sitting still, the words echoing in my head!.