Clara blinked, her mind racing to catch up with his words. She laughed nervously, thinking it was a joke. "Marriage? Dad, that's… That’s insane! You can’t be serious. Right?"
"It's not insane, Clara," he countered firmly. "It's necessary. And I’m very serious. I've already discussed the matter with the gentleman who showed interest in you. It should be arranged as soon as you graduate from school."
Clara's disbelief turned to incredulity. "You can't be serious! You expect me to marry someone I don't even know? What is this? The eighteenth century?"
"I am serious, Clara," he replied sternly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You will meet him soon enough. You have to understand that this is about more than just us. It’s more than just you. It's about the future of the company, our family's legacy!"
Clara stood frozen in disbelief as her father revealed his intentions to marry her off in a bid to salvage his struggling company. The notion of an arranged marriage struck her as not only shocking but also antiquated and utterly absurd.
"But dad," Clara protested, her voice tinged with desperation, "you can't just dictate my life like this! What about college and… I don’t know! Whatever I decide to do with my life! I have a say in who I marry."
He shook his head firmly. "Not this time, Clara. I’m sorry but I need you to understand. That’s why your reputation, our reputation, it's all at stake here. No more parties, no more drinking, no more boys, no more... distractions. This is your future. Our future."
Clara's heart sank as she realized the gravity of the situation. She searched his face for any sign of relenting, but found none. Her father's decision was final, and her protests fell on deaf ears.
The next day at school, Clara found herself unable to concentrate. Normally a diligent student, her mind wandered incessantly, consumed by the unsettling news her father had delivered. Thoughts of an arranged marriage, a concept she had only read about in history books or seen in movies, now loomed over her future like a dark cloud. Her heart ached with a mixture of fear and disbelief. She never imagined her father could be so unyielding and indifferent to her desires.
She had always known, deep down, that her father's struggles were rooted in the loss of her mother. She was only three years old when her mother passed away, too young to remember her face or the sound of her voice. Yet, the absence of her mother loomed large in her father's life and in their home.
After his wife’s death, Richard Miller had plunged into a downward spiral of alcohol and gambling, seeking solace in vices that only deepened his pain. Clara grew up amidst the wreckage of her father's grief, trying to navigate a world where stability was a rare commodity. It was her mother's trust fund that had provided a lifeline, ensuring they didn't fall into complete ruin. Without it, Clara couldn't fathom how they would have survived.
In the past four years, since her father had finally embraced sobriety, he had dedicated himself tirelessly to rebuilding their family's company and restoring their tarnished name. Clara admired his relentless determination and understood the weight of his aspirations. But now, faced with the prospect of an arranged marriage to salvage the family's fortune, Clara felt a sense of betrayal and disbelief. She wasn’t an asset, an investment to be made. She was a person, with her own thoughts. With her own desires. Her father only saw her as a pawn in his game, to move as he pleases in a game where all was fair, regardless of how she felt.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of classes, Clara reluctantly gathered her things. Stepping out of the classroom, she saw her father's driver waiting to take her back home as he usually does. However, in that moment, a strong wave of defiance surged within her. She realized she didn’t want to go home today.
Adrian arrived home, feeling weary after a long day. As he stepped through the grand foyer of his mansion, one of his maids approached him with an unexpected message.
"Mr. Belfort, you have a visitor," the maid announced quietly, her expression slightly hesitant.
Adrian furrowed his brow in confusion. "A visitor? I wasn't expecting anyone," he replied, puzzled by the unexpected intrusion.
The maid nodded politely. "Yes, sir. She insisted on waiting in your office."
Adrian sighed softly, curiosity piqued as he made his way upstairs to his office. He pushed open the door, and there, leaning casually against his desk in her school uniform, was Clara.
Clara looked up as Adrian entered, her expression a mix of determination and uncertainty. "Hi, Adrian," she greeted him softly.