Entangled Hearts

Chapter 2

Cold Reality

Kaelan's POV:

"Kaelan, this is for the good of the family. We’ve worked too hard for you to ruin this opportunity," Victoire Montello's sharp voice sliced through the silence of the grand dining room.

I clenched my fists under the table, my patience wearing thin. The thick, oppressive weight of my family’s expectations always lingered around me, but this—an arranged marriage—was a line they’d crossed.

"I don’t care about ‘the family,’ Mother," I snapped, my voice steady but laced with irritation. "I’ve built my life, my business, and I don’t need anyone, much less a woman I’ve never met, to secure some outdated alliance."

My father, Armandon Montello, spoke next, in his usual calm but commanding tone. "It’s not about what you need, Kaelan. It’s about legacy. Zaira de Lázaro is from a well-connected family, and this union is what’s best for both of our interests."

Legacy. That word has haunted me for as long as I can remember. They always threw it at me like a dagger, a way to bind me to their plans. I’ve made my own fortune, and yet, they still treat me like I owe them this sacrifice.

"Tell me, Dad," I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "what does a forced marriage have to do with building the future? I’m not some pawn you can move around."

Mikhail, my younger brother, leaned back in his chair, watching the exchange with a smirk. "You’re overthinking it, Kaelan. The girl’s gorgeous. Could be worse."

I shot him a look, cold and sharp. "This isn’t about looks, Mikhail. This is about freedom."

Mother sighed in frustration. "You’ve had your freedom, Kaelan. It’s time to fulfill your responsibilities to the family. Whether you like it or not, you will marry Zaira."

The name had become like a thorn in my side. Zaira de Lázaro, some model my parents had chosen for me. I’d seen pictures of her—a delicate face, all soft features and elegance. But that meant nothing to me. She was a stranger, a complication I didn’t need.

Standing up abruptly, I pushed my chair back, the sound scraping loudly against the marble floor. "I’ll meet her tonight. But don’t expect me to change my mind."

Without waiting for a response, I stormed out of the room, the sound of my footsteps echoing through the hallway.

---

The drive to the gala felt longer than it should’ve. The city lights blurred past the window, but I was lost in my own thoughts. The fact that my parents thought they could control my life like this—it infuriated me.

As the car slowed in front of the grand venue, I steeled myself. This was just another business transaction to them. Another deal they expected me to close.

I stepped out of the car, adjusting my tie as I looked around. The gala was bustling with people—elegant gowns, expensive suits, laughter, and meaningless chatter. I hated these events, but tonight, it wasn’t the gala that bothered me. It was the fact that somewhere in this crowd was the woman they wanted me to marry.

"Sir, Miss de Lázaro has arrived," Cassian, my assistant, appeared at my side, speaking quietly.

I nodded, my eyes scanning the room. It didn’t take long to find her. Zaira was standing near the entrance, dressed in a sleek gown that clung to her figure. She was stunning, I could admit that. But that’s all she was—just another beautiful face in a world full of them.

My eyes narrowed as I made my way toward her. I felt nothing. There was no spark, no curiosity. Just the cold weight of duty pressing down on me.

She noticed me approaching, her eyes widening slightly as I drew closer. There was an air of nervousness about her, though she tried to hide it behind a composed expression.

"Kaelan Montello," I said coolly as I extended a hand, more out of formality than interest.

"Zaira de Lázaro," she replied, her voice soft but steady, shaking my hand briefly.

We stood there for a moment, staring at each other. I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her gaze shifted, unsure of what to make of me. But I wasn’t here to put her at ease.

I leaned in slightly, my voice low but sharp enough for her to hear over the noise of the room. "Look, I don’t like you to be my wife. This whole marriage... it’s not what I want."

Her eyes widened, taken aback by my bluntness. For a second, I thought she’d retaliate or at least protest. But she simply held her ground, though I could see the surprise flicker in her expression.

"I didn’t ask for this either," she said quietly, her voice controlled, but there was a trace of something behind it. "But this is what our families want."

I straightened up, keeping my gaze locked on her. "Then let’s get one thing clear. This marriage? It’s for appearances only. I’m not interested in pretending we’re something we’re not. You stay in your lane, and I’ll stay in mine."

There was a brief silence between us. She met my gaze, her calm demeanor masking whatever emotions she was hiding underneath. She was stronger than I gave her credit for, I’d admit that much.

"Fine by me," she answered after a moment, her tone as cold as mine.

I gave her a curt nod before turning to leave, not bothering to look back. She could have been anyone. It didn’t matter to me. All that mattered was that I wasn’t going to let this marriage define me.

If they thought I’d fall in line so easily, they were dead wrong.