The door to my office swung open without a knock, and I barely had time to look up before a familiar, sharp voice cut through the air.

"Damn, bitch, I’ve been calling you!"

Pamela strutted in, two takeout bags in hand, looking every bit as effortlessly glamorous as ever. Her sleek, dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, emphasizing her sharp cheekbones and the slight smirk that never seemed to leave her face.

I sighed. "Pamela—"

"No, no," she cut me off, holding up a manicured finger. "Don’t ‘Pamela’ me. I went out of my way to get you food, and your ungrateful ass can’t even pick up the damn phone?"

"I was—"

"Oh, save it." She rolled her eyes dramatically before turning toward my desk. That was when she finally noticed Aziel sitting across from me, his gaze mildly amused.

Pamela froze for half a second, then grinned. "Well, hello there, handsome."

I rubbed my temples.

Aziel stood, straightening his suit jacket with an ease that only came from being raised in wealth. "I should be going anyway," he said smoothly, ignoring Pamela’s obvious once-over.

"You don’t have to—" I started, but he was already shaking his head.

"It’s late in the afternoon, Celeste. You need to eat." His voice was polite but firm, as if I were an employee rather than his…business partner.

Pamela smirked at that, shifting her weight onto one hip. "Mmm, a man who cares about your eating habits? Are we sure he’s straight?"

I reached for her ear without hesitation and tugged.

"Ow, bitch!" she yelped, swatting at my hand.

"Behave," I muttered, ignoring Aziel’s amused glance.

Pamela pouted but let me drag her a step away from him. 

Aziel gave me a slight nod. "See you tomorrow."

"See you."

The moment the door shut behind him, Pamela turned to me with wide eyes, tossing the takeout bags onto the coffee table in the seating area. "Okay, spill. Who the fuck was that, and why does he look like he walked straight off a ‘Rich Men with Daddy Issues’ catalog?"

I sighed, already knowing where this was going. "That was Aziel. We are merging our companies...and families." I rushed out.

Pamela’s brows shot up. "Marriage of convenience?"

I sat down on the couch, kicking off my heels. "Yes."

Pamela whistled low, dropping onto the seat beside me. "Okay, well, first of all, if you don’t fuck him at least once before ending this arrangement, I will be personally offended."

"Pamela."

"No, seriously. Celeste, did you see the way he looks in that suit? He’s got that ‘will choke you against a penthouse window’ kind of energy—"

"Pamela."

"—and not even in a toxic way. More like a ‘let me take care of you, baby, but also ruin your life in the best way possible’ kind of thing."

I sighed heavily, grabbing one of the takeout containers and opening it. "Can you not?"

Pamela grinned, completely unfazed. "I’m just saying, if I had to be in an arranged marriage, I’d at least make it fun."

I gave her a dry look. "Glad to know my impending wedding is your entertainment."

Pamela leaned forward, her expression shifting slightly. "What did Ava have to say about that?"

I froze for half a second. It was barely noticeable, but Pamela saw it. 

"Nothing."

She arched a brow at me. "She doesn’t know, does she?"

I exhaled through my nose, keeping my voice even. "I’ll tell her when the time feels right."

Pamela hummed, tilting her head. "And when is the right time?"

"I don’t know." I picked at my food. "Soon."

Pamela gave me a look.

"Ava would not be pleased with this."

I blinked, confused. "Why?"

Pamela sighed, shaking her head with a smirk. "I can’t with you two."

I frowned. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Pamela just popped a piece of sushi into her mouth and waved me off. "Nothing, darling. Absolutely nothing."

My frown deepen, setting my chopsticks down. "What do you mean Ava won’t be happy with this?"

Pamela arched a brow, her perfectly lined lips curving into something between exasperation and amusement. "Oh, Celeste, sweet, oblivious Celeste. Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

I leaned back against the couch, crossing my arms. 

"Apparently, because you’re being annoyingly vague."

Pamela sighed dramatically, tossing a piece of sushi into her mouth before fixing me with a pointed stare. "Ava likes you, dumbass."

I blinked. "Of course, she does. We’ve been friends since—"

"No, Celeste. Not like that." Pamela groaned, rubbing her temples as if I was the most frustrating person alive. "She’s into you. Romantically. Sexually. Emotionally. All of the ‘-allys’ you can think of."

My stomach did a strange flip. I shook my head. 

"That’s ridiculous."

Pamela let out a dry laugh. "Is it? Have you ever actually looked at the way Ava acts around you? The way she touches you? The way her entire face softens when she talks to you? Hell, the way she nearly murdered a guy for breathing in your direction last year?"

I swallowed, forcing a light scoff. "That was different. He was being an ass."

Pamela smirked. "Right. And how many times has Ava actually given a damn about any guy being an ass to anyone but you?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

Pamela sat back, giving me a smug, knowing look. "Exactly."

I stared at my takeout container, suddenly not hungry. "Well, she’s never said anything."

"Because she probably thinks she doesn’t have to," Pamela shot back. "Or maybe because she knows you’d do exactly what you’re doing right now—deny it, rationalize it, pretend it’s something else."

I exhaled sharply, pressing my fingers against my temple. "Even if—if—that were true, it doesn’t change anything. I’m soon to be engaged, Pamela."

"Engaged to a man you don’t even love," she pointed out. "A man your father handpicked for you like you’re some sort of limited-edition collector’s item."

"It’s my duty," I muttered.

Pamela’s expression softened, but there was still an edge of frustration behind her eyes. "Yeah, Celeste. But at what point does duty stop being an excuse and start being a prison?"

I swallowed hard, looking away. My fingers curled against my palm.

"Look," Pamela sighed. "I’m not telling you to drop everything and run into Ava’s arms. I know how your world works, and I know it’s not that simple. But at least be honest with yourself. With her."

"I will tell her," I said, the words tasting like a lie even as I spoke them. "When the time feels right."

Pamela gave me a long, unreadable look before shaking her head with a small, knowing smile.

"Right," she said, popping another bite of sushi into her mouth. "Because that time is definitely coming soon."

I hated how Pamela always had this way of making me feel like I was lying to myself, even when I was sure I wasn’t. Or maybe I was. Maybe I didn’t want to dig too deep into the truth, because once I acknowledged it—truly acknowledged it—there’d be no going back.

She stretched her legs out on the couch, casually flipping through her phone. "So, when exactly do you plan on telling Ava? Before or after she finds out on her own and decides to throw your ass off a rooftop?"

I shot her a look. "She’s not that dramatic."

Pamela snorted. "Oh, honey. Ava is a lot of things, but indifferent when it comes to you? Not one of them." She tossed her phone onto the table, meeting my gaze with that all-too-knowing expression. "You know she’ll find out, right? She’s not stupid. And if she hears it from someone else, she’s going to be pissed. And hurt. And you? You’re going to feel like absolute shit."

I swallowed. "I’ll tell her Soon." I repeated.

"Mmm," Pamela hummed, skeptical.

The room went quiet for a moment. I picked at the corner of my napkin, avoiding her gaze.

"You don’t want to tell her because you don’t want to see the look on her face when you do," Pamela finally said, her voice softer now.

My throat tightened. I didn’t respond.

Because she was right.

Ava had always been my safe place. The one person in my life who never demanded anything from me, never tried to control me or fit me into a mold I didn’t belong in. She let me be me. And the idea of seeing disappointment—pain—on her face because of me?

I wasn’t ready for that.

"Celeste," Pamela said, nudging my foot with hers. 

"You’re in deep, babe. Whether you want to admit it or not."

I let out a breath, running a hand through my hair. "It doesn’t matter."

Pamela scoffed. "Right. Because arranged marriages have never ended in scandalous affairs and broken engagements."

I shot her a look. "That’s not going to happen."

 She hummed, her smirk widening. "You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart."

I groaned, throwing a pillow at her. She cackled, dodging it with ease.

"Look, all I’m saying is…whatever you’re avoiding? It’s going to catch up to you eventually. So be ready for it."

I didn’t respond. Because deep down, I knew she was right.

And that scared me more than anything.

Pamela let the conversation settle, watching me with that infuriatingly smug expression of hers. She had already said what she needed to say, and now she was just waiting—for me to react, for me to argue, or maybe for me to finally admit what she already knew.

But I wasn’t giving her the satisfaction.

I stood, brushing the crumbs off my lap. "Enough about me. What’s going on with you?"

Pamela rolled her eyes. "Don’t deflect, babe. You know I’ll drag your ass right back into this conversation."

"And yet, here you are, still talking about yourself." I smirked, knowing exactly how to push her buttons.

She narrowed her eyes, but she let it go. For now. "Fine. Since you’re so interested—some of us actually have a social life outside of business mergers and secret lesbian pining. I have a date tonight. He’s hot. 

He’s rich. And—get this—he’s not emotionally constipated."

"Sounds fake," I deadpanned.

Pamela gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. "Wow. The lack of support. Unbelievable. And to think, I brought you lunch."

I laughed, shaking my head as I sat back down. 

"Alright, alright. Who’s the poor bastard?"

She grinned. "Some investment banker I met at a gala last weekend. He’s got this whole I can ruin your credit score and make you like it vibe, which is kind of hot."

I scrunched my nose. "That’s disgusting."

"That’s life, baby," she said, winking.