Chapter 20 Under Observation
Sloane
I sat at my desk, staring at a spreadsheet of hotel occupancy. I was outwardly composed, my suit perfectly pressed and my posture straight. Inwardly, I was braced for impact. I knew that in this family, a sudden engagement wasn't just a happy story. Cade wasn’t the pressure on me now. Everything else was.
The door to my office opened. No one buzzed. No one knocked.
Melissa walked in.
She was dressed in a sharp, dove-gray dress, her face was calm. Too calm. She looked pleasant, almost warm. She didn’t sit down; instead, she began to drift around the room, claiming the space as if she still owned it. Her fingers trailed over the edge of my mahogany desk, leaving a faint streak on the polished wood. It was a territorial display I remembered from my childhood, the way she used to enter my bedroom to find something to criticize.
"Sloane," she said, her voice smooth. She finally stopped moving, her eyes scanning my desk as if she could find what she was looking for hidden in my paperwork. "I heard the news. Or rather, Claire told me the news. And I mean your engagement, in case you can't figure it out."
"Melissa," I replied, leaning back. I kept my hands visible on the desk. "I assume you’re here to congratulate me."
"I am," she said. She stepped forward, her movement precise. "It’s a very... solid move. Everyone is very pleased."
But she didn't sound pleased. She sounded like she was reading a weather report. She was observing me, watching for a flinch or some kind of tell that would confirm what she’s suspecting. This wasn't the same Melissa who wanted to ruin the hotel at the cost of jobs, just so she could get her new data center.
"We’re happy," I said. The lie felt a little smoother today, but it still had a bitter aftertaste.
Melissa smiled. It was a thin, sharp thing. "I’m sure you are. Though, I have to say, it’s quite a change of heart. Only a few weeks ago, you were ready to walk away from everything just to avoid being with him. Now, you’re exactly where grandmother wanted you."
She walked over to the window, looking out at the city. "You always hated being predictable, Sloane. You used to go out of your way to prove me wrong. I’m just trying to figure out if you’ve finally grown up, or if you’re just performing."
Performing. The word hit me like a physical blow. I kept my face still, forcing my breathing to stay deep and even. But I didn’t defend him. If I tried to convince her I was in love, she’d smell desperation. If I acted too passionate, it would look like a cover-up. Neutrality was my only shield. If I stayed calm, I could let her believe I was simply making a smart business deal, a language she actually understood.
"It’s not a performance, Melissa. People change. Circumstances change. Cade and I found a common ground that neither of us expected."
"Common ground," she repeated, turning back to face me. "You wouldn’t do this just to spite me, would you? Just to show me that you can play the game better than I can?"
She wasn't accusing me of being greedy. She didn't mention the money or the will. She was accusing me of being a fraud. She was saying that my entire life till now was just a reaction to her.
"I don't do things to spite you," I said, my voice calm and low. I stood up, matching her height. "I do things that are best for the company and for my life. If that looks like 'playing the game' to you, then maybe I learned more than you thought."
I saw a flicker of frustration in her eyes. My restraint was bothering her. She wanted me to snap. She wanted me to defend the relationship with Cade so she could pick it apart, but I wouldn't give her the satisfaction.
The door opened again, and Nina stepped in. She didn't look surprised to see Melissa there. She just leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed.
"Am I interrupting a family bonding moment?" Nina asked, her tone dry.
Melissa looked at Nina, then back at me. She didn't say anything else. She gave a single, decisive nod, like she’d reached a conclusion, and walked past Nina without a word. The air in the room seemed to follow her out.
Nina waited until the footsteps faded before she shut the door and sat in the chair Melissa had avoided.
"Wow," Nina said, letting out a breath. "She looks... intense today. Is she actually happy for you, or is she just stressed?"
"She thinks I'm faking it," I said, sinking back into my chair. "She thinks the whole engagement is a show to keep her from pushing me out of the company."
Nina frowned, looking confused. "Why would she see it that way? I mean, she’s the one that wanted to sink a thousand jobs to keep her tech dream afloat. Now you and Cade are basically the power couple of the century. It makes sense that you’d end up together. I know it’s not a movie, but that’s how it reads."
I looked at Nina. I let her believe it because it was safer that way.
"It’s not a movie, Nina," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I know, I know," Nina said, leaning forward. "But honestly, Sloane, you’re acting like this is a prison sentence. You’re living in a mansion with a handsome billionaire. Even if Melissa is being her usual self, you’ve won. You’ve got the guy, you’ve got the position."
She paused, her expression softening into genuine concern. "But you look like you’re waiting for something to explode, and that’s what worries me."
“I’m okay, Nina,” I said.
"Are you sure you’re okay with this? I’ve seen you work eighty-hour weeks without wearing you down as much as this, but this engagement looks like it’s actually taking its toll on you."
"I'm just tired," I said, using two fingers to rub my temples. "There's a lot of pressure to get everything right."
"Just don't let the pressure get to you," Nina said, standing up to leave. "If Melissa is looking for a reason to doubt you, don't give her one. Just be happy. It’s the one thing she can’t argue with."
Nina left, leaving me alone in the silence. I looked down at my phone. A dozen congratulatory texts sat unopened, their red notification bubbles mocking me. I swiped away a couple of them without replying.
I hovered over Claire’s name, wanting to tell her to stop, but I lacked the energy to fight her. My entire calendar was now a sea of blue blocks labeled "Engagement." I heard a notification sound and then I looked at my computer screen. A new email had popped up. It was from the catering department.
Subject: Engagement Gala – Draft Menu and Floor Plan.
The plans were moving so much faster than I had anticipated. I thought my aunt planning the engagement would give us time to breathe, time to look at the files, time to find a way to stop Richard. But it wasn't giving us time. It was creating pressure. Every person who congratulated me was another person I was lying to. Every party plan Claire made was another link in a chain that was pulling me tighter.
And Melissa was just waiting. She hadn't made a move yet because she didn’t need proof—she just needed timing. Cracks don't always start with explosions; they start with fatigue, with one missed line or one tired look. She was standing back, watching the bomb tick down, waiting for the moment I finally cracked under the weight of the performance. I wasn't just afraid of being exposed anymore. I was afraid of the moment I became too exhausted to care.