The Arrangement

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Calista Reyes sat at the edge of her chair, eyes fixed on the silver cutlery in front of her, as if willing the night to go faster. She wasn't sure what was worse—the opulent surroundings or the hollow feeling creeping into her stomach. This wasn't just dinner; this was a boardroom meeting with silverware, and she was the asset on the table.

Her father sat beside her, his expression a mask of control. He hadn't spoken much since they entered the DeLuca estate, a mansion as cold and imposing as the family that owned it. His silence wasn't a surprise. Ever since the financial collapse of their family business, his mood had been heavy with worry, though he never let it show. Tonight, however, something about him was different. There was an edge to him, something almost... resigned.

Across from them, the DeLuca family—Matteo's parents—sat like royalty, draped in the quiet authority of wealth. Mr. DeLuca, a broad-shouldered man with a penchant for dark suits, sat at the head of the table. His eyes gleamed with a calculated sharpness that made Calista's skin crawl. His wife, slender and elegant, barely looked up from her glass of wine. Matteo, on the other hand, appeared utterly indifferent, leaning back in his chair, tapping away on his phone.

It was the same Matteo DeLuca she'd heard about for years—reckless, entitled, and too used to getting his way. He barely even acknowledged her presence. Not that Calista minded. The less attention he paid her, the better.

The room buzzed with the murmur of servants moving quietly between the tables, offering wine, placing food in front of them. Calista had no appetite, though. Every bite felt like a part of her dignity slipping away. Every course, every clink of silverware, was an inch closer to whatever nightmare her parents were planning to discuss. She had a bad feeling about it. A *very* bad feeling.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Mr. DeLuca cleared his throat and set his glass down, his eyes glinting with the kind of seriousness that demanded attention. Calista's father followed suit, leaning forward slightly, his gaze shifting between his wife and Mr. DeLuca.

"Thank you all for joining us this evening," Mr. DeLuca began, his voice calm, authoritative. "There's something important we must address, something that affects both our families."

At that, Matteo glanced up from his phone, raising an eyebrow as though he were barely interested. Calista resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Typical.

"Over the past few months, our businesses have faced some setbacks," Mr. DeLuca continued, his eyes never leaving her father. "The financial landscape has changed, and for both our families, sacrifices must be made."

Calista stiffened in her seat. She had been expecting bad news—everyone in their circle had. Her family's fortune was slipping through their fingers, her father's desperate calls to save what remained growing more frequent with each passing day. But she hadn't anticipated *this*.

She could see her father's hand trembling slightly, though he quickly hid it beneath the table. "Yes," he replied, his voice steady but tight, "we have been exploring all options."

Matteo rolled his eyes, flicking a glance at Calista, then returning to the screen of his phone as if this conversation were nothing more than a nuisance. Calista couldn't blame him; she was starting to feel the same way. Whatever this was, it wasn't going to end well.

Mrs. DeLuca, who had been sitting in silence with an unreadable expression, finally spoke up. Her voice was soft but firm. "We've come to a decision." She paused, her gaze sweeping across the room. "An arrangement that will benefit both of our families."

Calista's stomach dropped. She already didn't like the sound of this.

"It's simple," Mrs. DeLuca continued. "Matteo and Calista will be married."

The words landed like a slap, and for a moment, everything in the room seemed to freeze. The silence was so thick that Calista could hear her own heartbeat thudding in her ears. Her breath caught, her eyes wide, as she turned slowly to look at her father. His face was ashen, his jaw tight.

"No," she said, her voice low, almost a whisper. "No. Absolutely not."

Matteo, who had been half-listening, finally straightened up in his chair, eyes wide with disbelief. "You're joking, right?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You want me to marry *her*?"

Calista shot him a glare so fierce, it could've set the table on fire. "I'd rather marry a rock."

She knew her words were harsh, but she couldn't help it. The thought of being married to Matteo—this arrogant, insufferable, spoiled brat—was beyond humiliating.

Mr. DeLuca didn't flinch. "This is a matter of business, not personal feelings," he said coldly. "Your marriage will stabilize our finances, both yours and ours. We will be able to combine our resources and keep both families afloat."

"Business?" Matteo repeated, a laugh escaping his lips. "You're going to marry me off to someone who *hates* me for some—what?—business deal?" He shook his head, clearly incredulous. "This is insane."

Calista stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the marble floor. "This is *ridiculous*," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and disbelief. "I'm not some pawn you can move around for your financial gain!"

Her father's eyes flashed with something—regret? Guilt?—but he said nothing, leaving her to absorb the weight of the decision they had made for her. Her mother, always the quiet one, looked at her with sad eyes, as if apologizing without saying a word.

"Calista, this is for the best," Mrs. Reyes murmured, her voice soft. "You don't have a choice in this. Neither of you do."

Calista's mind raced. Her entire future, her entire life, was being handed over in exchange for some business deal. There was no escaping this. Her stomach twisted with a cold dread. She felt betrayed by her parents, who had promised her a future she could control.

"I don't care about the money," she said through gritted teeth. "I won't marry him."

But Matteo's smirk only widened. "Sorry, sweetheart," he drawled. "But you don't get a say in this."

The arrogance in his voice made her blood boil. She didn't care if he was the one who had to go through with it too—this wasn't just an inconvenience for him. She would make sure he understood that.

Mr. DeLuca finally stood, his eyes cold and calculating. "You both have a year. By the end of this time, you will be engaged. There will be no exceptions. Your future is set."

Calista's hands balled into fists, her nails biting into her palms. "I'll never agree to this," she muttered, though she knew it was useless. What could she do? This was already decided. There was no escape.

Matteo pushed back from the table with a lazy, almost amused expression. "I guess we'll have fun making this *interesting*, won't we?"

Calista didn't respond. She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, not daring to look back. As she reached the door, she heard Matteo's voice behind her, calling out casually, "Don't bother unpacking your bags, sweetheart. This is just the beginning."

She didn't turn around. Instead, she made her way to the garden, her mind racing, her heart filled with more questions than answers.

Her life, it seemed, had just been rewritten. And no matter how much she hated it, it was something she would have to live with.

For now.

I guess i made a book for matteo,

Hope ur liking it,

Bisou,

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