Daniel crossed his legs and folded his fingers, his tongue pressing lightly against the inside of his cheek. He leaned back into the leather sofa, silent, watching the girl seated across from him on the opposite lounge.
Her cherry-colored, floral dress rode a little high, exposing more of her thighs than she likely intended. It matched the shade of her necklace, a deliberate choice, he guessed. She shifted under his gaze, clearly uncomfortable, though she tried to hold it.
Her name was Sandra. She was the daughter of his parents' friends—"a perfect match," they'd said. The merging of two influential families would be "a blessing to both legacies." Daniel thought otherwise. Arranged affections bored him, especially when they involved girls he couldn't even pretend to like.
He had known she would be there before he came down the stairs. His father had called earlier to "give him a heads-up" and begged him to be civil. That was generous, considering how often they barely talked.
When he entered the sitting room, she'd already been admiring the artwork on the walls, paintings he'd never noticed before, though he lived among them. Now she sat there, hands pressed to her lap, waiting for him to speak first. He didn't.
Finally, she broke the silence.
"I must say... your cologne. It's really something," she offered with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It caught me the moment I walked in."
Daniel didn't respond. Not yet.
Sandra swallowed. She was nervous. Her long mahogany hair framed her face beautifully, and she was dressed as if this were a date. It wasn't. Still, she clung to a thread of hope, imagining what it would be like to date him. To be his girlfriend. To marry into his world.
She could already see it: the headlines, the photos, the whispers of envy from her friends. Wife of the heir to the Gundi Empire. She had rehearsed her introduction in the mirror a dozen times.
"I'm Sandra," she said, though she was sure he already knew.
Daniel exhaled slowly and rubbed his forehead.
"I didn't ask you to speak," he said coldly.
His tone was calm but absolute. She blinked, stunned.
"You'll speak when I say you can. In this house, you'll follow my rules."
Sandra's smile faltered. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she felt the sting of embarrassment settle deep in her chest. But she didn't move. She wouldn't leave. Not yet.
She had already decided she'd do whatever it took to win him over. He was everything she had ever dreamed of. His cruelty didn't change that.
Daniel's eyes flicked briefly to her legs. She shifted uncomfortably.
He stood and walked over to the bar in the corner, poured himself a glass of champagne, then turned to the window, looking out at the blooming garden. Without turning around, he asked, "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"
Sandra straightened up. "No," she replied softly.
"A lover?"
She shook her head. "No. Have you—"
"I ask the questions," he interrupted sharply, turning to face her.
Her mouth shut instantly. His eyes locked on hers, those pale beige irises somehow both warm and cold.
"You know why you've never had a boyfriend?" he asked, crossing the room in slow strides.
She shook her head, already feeling the words before they came.
Daniel squatted in front of her. His hand rested gently, too gently, on her bare thigh. Sandra's heart raced, a flush rising to her cheeks. She didn't breathe.
"It's because you're not attractive," he said.
Silence.
The words hit her like a slap. Her breath caught in her throat. She had always considered herself beautiful, mirror-confirmed, compliment-reinforced. How could he not see it?
"I don't even find you appealing enough to sleep with," he added, standing again.
Sandra sat frozen, blinking fast.
"And to answer your question, yes, I've had lovers. I just try not to add too many."
With that, he walked toward the door.
"You can leave whenever you're done sitting there," he said without looking back.
The door shut behind him.
Sandra stared at the space he'd left behind, her hands trembling in her lap. Her heart pounded, not from love anymore, but from devastation.
———
Daniel maneuvered his sports car into the private lot of the Honduran Group headquarters, a towering steel-and-glass structure that shimmered under the afternoon sun. The building stood like a monument to wealth, power, and precision. Its many windows caught the light like mirrors, each reflecting a piece of the sky.
He'd been here before, months ago, when David had invited the boys over to "see the empire" before they all graduated. It was an impressive empire, no doubt, but Daniel had never been the type to be awed by legacy. Especially not one that came with expectations.
As he stepped out, phones buzzed in his pocket. Probably his parents. He didn't bother to check. He wasn't in the mood to explain why he had walked out on a girl he never invited. He dialed David instead.
"Just got here," he said.
"Top floor," came the reply. "I'm waiting."
Inside, Daniel moved through the glass-paneled lobby with his usual confidence, indifferent to the stares. Employees in sleek suits stole glances at him, some curious, some admiring, a few whispering. He knew why. His face had been splashed across enough headlines to be familiar. Heir to the Gundi Empire. The Golden Son.
He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the executive floor. The polished chrome doors closed with a soft sigh.
When they opened, David was already there, leaning casually against the wall with his hands in his pockets. His newly trimmed haircut was sharp, and his navy suit crisp.
"Nice cut," Daniel said as they greeted with a quick, half-hearted hug.
"Like always," David smirked. "Come on."
David's office was vast, too large for someone who still technically didn't hold a title. Four long leather couches were spaced around a central table. A private bar sat tucked into the corner, and a towering portrait of David dominated the back wall. His father had spared no expense.
"I have to finish something before we dip," David said, walking toward the bar. "Fresh bottle came in today."
He poured two glasses of red wine and handed one to Daniel, who drank in quick, deliberate gulps.
"So," David said, "how was... Sandra?"
Daniel made a face. "Don't start."
David raised an eyebrow. "You told her she wasn't attractive, didn't you?"
Daniel set the glass down with a clink. "Because she isn't. I can't lie."
"You could've been diplomatic."
"Diplomacy is for politicians. I'm not going to pretend interest to keep my parents happy."
David shook his head, amused. "You know your mom called me after you stormed out?"
"She'll live," Daniel muttered.
"She said you locked yourself in your room for eight hours."
Daniel shrugged. "I needed to detox."
David laughed. "You're a menace."
Daniel leaned back, sighing. "I'm just not marrying someone I don't want. End of story."
"Have you seen someone you do want?"
Daniel hesitated. "No. And maybe I won't. Ever."
"Bachelor for life?"
"Maybe," he said with a smirk. "Unless the world serves me someone actually worth my time."