That Tuesday night at the Valencia residence, the dining table was unusually quiet. The clink of silverware against porcelain filled the silence until Elias, Nathaniel’s father, finally set down his fork with a sigh.

“Son,” Elias said, his voice steady but edged with frustration. “Are you not telling us something?”

Nathaniel glanced up from his plate, feigning innocence. “What is it, Dad?”

“Don’t feign ignorance.” Elias leaned back, studying his son sharply. “I received an email from Fidel’s office this afternoon. An invitation. Your engagement—this Friday.”

The words landed heavily.

Nathaniel’s mother, Lorraine, froze with her wineglass halfway to her lips.

“Engagement?” she breathed. “Nathaniel?”

He exhaled softly. “I’m sorry, Ma. I should have told you sooner.”

Elias frowned, his expression firm. “Why didn’t you tell us that you and Vicky are dating again?”

Lorraine turned to Nathaniel, her tone a mix of concern and gentle scolding. “Is that true, Nate?”

Before he could answer, she added anxiously, “Wait—this engagement happened so soon… don’t tell me Vicky’s pregnant?”

“Ma,” Nathaniel nearly choked on his drink, his cheeks flushing crimson. “She’s not pregnant. We haven’t… done anything. Yet.”

Lorraine let out a soft sigh of relief—thank God it was Victoria. Of all people, it had to be her. She had known that girl for years, watched her grow close to Nathaniel, and later, watched her son break when it all fell apart. Victoria was his first love… and his first heartbreak. Lorraine could still remember those nights she’d find him alone in his room, trying to hide the sound of his crying. Seeing them back together now felt like a small prayer finally answered.

Elias, however, didn’t flinch. His gaze only sharpened.

“Then explain. Why this engagement?”

Nathaniel leaned back in his chair, voice even. He explained the alliance, how the engagement was tied to the deal with Fidel Salvatierra.

Lorraine set down her fork, eyes soft but searching. The clinking of silverware around the table faded as she looked at her son. She couldn’t imagine Nathaniel treating something as sacred as marriage so lightly.

“So, let me get this straight,” she began gently, “this engagement… it’s for business?”

Nathaniel nodded once, expression unreadable.

She leaned back, a faint crease forming on her forehead.

“Nate, son, I don’t understand,” she said, her tone calm but laced with worry. “You’re talking about marriage—this isn’t just a deal to close or a project to finish.” She sighed, resting her elbows lightly on the table. “Do you still love her?”

He fell silent, the question hanging between them. His mother’s words cut deeper than he expected, forcing him to pause and examine himself.

Did… he still love Victoria?

Lorraine’s voice softened further, though her eyes stayed fixed on him.

“If we set business aside, do you really want to marry Victoria? Because I know you, Nate. You don’t do things without a reason. But marriage…” She gave a small, bittersweet smile. “You’ll be tied to that person forever. Have you ever really thought about that? Do you truly want to be with her for the rest of your life?”

Her voice trembled at the end, half afraid of the answer, half hoping it would be the one she’d prayed for all these years.

Nathaniel couldn’t answer his mother. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. All he wanted was to taunt Fidel, if he would truly use his daughter as a bargaining chip—and he did. But now, Nathaniel refused to back down from what he’d started.

Elias broke the silence.

“Nate, this is the riskiest move you’ve made in your career. You could have signed a joint venture and left it at that, but you went further… you proposed marriage.” his tone sharpened, father to son, not CEO to heir, “I’m not questioning your decisions, son. You know your own mind better than anyone.”

Lorraine chimed in after Elias spoke.

“You know, Nate, your Dad and I would never interfere with your love life or dictate who you should marry. But as your parents, we just don’t want to see you get hurt again or regret this later. We’re not against your engagement with Vicky, but do you truly see yourself building a life with her? A family, even. Not just an alliance.”

Nathaniel’s brow knitted; his mother’s words struck deeper than he cared to admit.

Build a family with Victoria?

The thought flickered—unwelcome—before he pushed it away. All he ever considered was breaking down her walls and crushing Fidel’s pride. It was strategy, about proving a point, not sentiment.

He drew a slow breath, sitting straighter, his tone calm but unbending.

“Dad… Ma…you don’t have to worry,” he said firmly. “I’ve thought this through. I’ve calculated everything that could happen, and I’m ready for whatever comes after. I’m not backing out of this. My decision stands.”

Lorraine and Elias exchanged a quiet glance across the table — the kind that carried unspoken parental worry.

She reached out, her hand gently covering his. Her voice was calm but firm, threaded with concern.

“Nate, think this through carefully before the day of your engagement,” she said. “Marriage isn’t like a business contract you can just terminate when things go wrong. When you marry someone, you’re choosing to build a life with them… every single day.”

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. He understood his mother’s concern, but he couldn’t back down now. Not from this. Not when it would look like he’d lost to Fidel. He’d calculate every move, every risk—but never defeat. Not to him. No — he wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“I’ve already made up my mind,” Nathaniel said at last, his tone clipped with quiet resolve. “This engagement will go through.”

Lorraine studied her son carefully, her mother’s instinct reading more than what he said.

“Nate,” she asked softly, “are you sure about this?”

“Ma. I know what I’m doing,” The firmness in his voice was almost too controlled — as if he were convincing himself as much as her.

Again, Elias and Lorraine shared a look. It was an unspoken conversation between two parents who knew when their son had shut every door to reason. Lorraine sighed in resignation. Seeing her son’s stubborn resolve, she could only hope and pray that he might find love again.

She smiled, squeezing his hand softly.

“We love you, Nate,” she said, her voice trembling with warmth. “We just want you to be happy… and to find love again.”

Nathaniel covered his mother’s hand with his own.

“I know, Ma. Thanks for the concern, but I can handle myself,” he said, his tone calm but reassuring.

Elias studied his son for a moment, then said, "Well, he seems firm in his decision and has made up his mind. Let him be—he’s old enough to know what he’s doing."

 Nathaniel let out a faint sigh, nodding.

“Thanks Dad for trusting me.”

Lorraine looked at her husband and said, "I think I might need to go shopping tomorrow. It’s been a while since I went to a boutique. I want to find a dress for this coming Friday."

Elias leaned back, thinking for a moment. “I can come along. And while we’re out… consider it a casual date, if you like.”

Lorraine smiled, lightly nudging his arm. “Alright, it’s been such a long time since our last date."

Elias chuckled quietly. “Good. I’ll make sure it’s enjoyable.”

Nathaniel watched them quietly from across the table—how his father’s eyes softened when meeting his mother’s, how her laughter came easily. There was a certain peace between them that he couldn’t quite define.

For a moment, something inside him stirred. A quiet ache he couldn’t name.

Later that night, Nathaniel lay in his bed, restless. Sleep eluded him, no matter how he shifted or turned, not because of exhaustion but because of calculation. His mother’s words echoed in his mind:

Does he truly mean to marry Victoria? He couldn’t help but question himself. Had he really thought this through? Was he ready for what came after the engagement?

He turned onto his back, one hand pressed against the nape of his neck, eyes tracing the familiar patterns on the ceiling.

What did he feel toward her?

Right now… nothing. He reminded himself: he had moved on. Her absence, the way she had walked away, the quiet sting of her leaving—it had all been processed, filed away. But now the game had begun, and he could not back down.

He pause, and then a thought: Marriage.

A concept long dead since Celine left. After her, nothing mattered—only work.

If he looked at this logically, that’s all this was: a deal. This isn’t about love. Not for him. A merger between two companies. He would treat it exactly like that. Victoria was just another asset on the board, one he could use strategically against Fidel if it served his goals.

And her past with him… that’s the edge. She remembers. She feels. That’s something he can use. Every hesitation, every unspoken reaction, every flicker of her pride—predictable patterns waiting to be exploited.

After the “merger”? That outcome is irrelevant until she proves her value. Victoria’s value will reveal itself in time. If she aligns, she stays in the game. If she doesn’t… she’s expendable.

And he liked the challenge. Winning wasn’t just about deals—it was about playing the game better than anyone else, predicting the moves before they happened, and turning every asset to his advantage.

Meanwhile, at the Salvatierra estate, dinner passed in heavy silence. The long dining table stretched between father and daughter, its gleaming surface reflecting the soft light of the chandelier above. Only the quiet clink of silverware against porcelain filled the room.

Fidel set down his glass of wine, his eyes steady on Victoria.

“How’s Nathaniel?”

Victoria, poised and composed, dabbed her lips with a napkin before answering.

“He seems… fine.”

Fidel’s brow arched, displeased.

“Fine is vague. I’m not asking how he looks, Vicky. I want to know what you think of him.”

Her pulse tightened, but her expression remained unreadable. She gave the answer she knew he wanted.

“He’s good, Dad. And you’re right—he’s a strategic fit for this business alliance.” She paused, concealing the faint ache that surfaced for a moment. “He does seem to be looking forward to the engagement.”

Fidel leaned back in his chair, the corner of his mouth curving—not into a smile, but into something like satisfaction. He nodded slowly, as if her words confirmed a calculation in his mind.

“Good,” he said, his voice cool and deliberate.

“Get along with him. I want you to be my eyes. Watch him closely. If he has motives beyond this alliance, or if he dares to stray, I expect you to let me know.”

Victoria lowered her gaze, her tone quiet, obedient.

“Yes, Dad.”

The silence returned—an old, familiar quiet that always settled between Victoria and her father at this table. A silence she had long grown used to.