Chapter 162: A Political Marriage
The top-floor boardroom of Harrington Aviation Holdings.
An entire wall of floor-to-ceiling glass overlooked the busiest district of the city. In the distance, skyscrapers reflected the afternoon sunlight in cold, silvery-white gleams.
It was four o'clock in the afternoon.
The sunlight streamed in at an angle, making the conference room seem even brighter than usual.
This was a room reserved exclusively for powerful people.
A room where decisions were made—not discussed.
Eleanor sat on the side of the conference table closest to the door.
Today, she wasn't wearing a suit jacket. Just a dark, perfectly tailored blouse.
Ever since her final treatment at the Rayne Clinic, her physical condition had been better than at any point in her life.
Her breathing was steady.
Her heartbeat was strong and regular.
The lingering pressure that had haunted her chest for years had vanished completely.
For the first time since reaching adulthood, she no longer needed to worry about her health before entering a meeting.
Everyone else had already taken their seats.
At the head of the table sat her father.
Beside him were two board members and a legal representative from the family trust.
There was also an unfamiliar man she had never met before and couldn't immediately identify.
On her side of the table—
She was alone.
A lineup like this usually meant only one thing.
The decision had already been made.
She was simply the last person to be informed.
Suddenly, Eleanor felt an odd sense of déjà vu.
Yes.
The last time had looked very similar.
A similar room.
A similar arrangement.
A similar atmosphere.
That had been when she was "asked" to seek medical treatment.
At the time, she had found the wording strange.
Why would seeing a doctor require arrangements?
Only later did she realize it hadn't been solely about treatment.
There had also been an element of evaluation.
Observation.
Testing the waters.
The family had been willing to pay the price of one promise to verify a possibility.
Of course, whether the goal had been treatment with a side of introduction or an introduction with a side of treatment was impossible to determine.
As for the one question she had always suspected—
Whether the family truly believed the treatment would work—
She now knew the answer.
They had never doubted it.
Not for a second.
Before she met Dr. Rayne, they had given her clear instructions.
No need to be overly enthusiastic.
No need to force anything.
Simply:
"Display your strengths."
"Remain friendly."
"Interact naturally."
"See whether further possibilities exist."
So she cooperated.
But she never crossed any boundaries.
She dressed plainly.
She spoke politely and with restraint.
Not because she was arrogant.
But because she understood something fundamental:
That particular style of approach had never belonged to her.
Then, one day, her father received a phone call.
Everything stopped.
Immediately.
No explanation.
No discussion.
No follow-up questions.
The only instruction she received was clear and direct:
Do not continue approaching the doctor in the manner previously discussed.
That order, more than anything else, sparked her curiosity.
Someone had clearly pressured her father.
Someone powerful enough to make him change course without argument.
Someone who had made one thing unmistakably clear—
Stay away from Dr. Ethan Rayne.
And that was precisely why she had started wondering:
Just who, exactly, was the doctor who had casually cured a disease that had plagued her for most of her life?
A silent pressure settled over the room.
A clear message had been delivered to the Harrington family:
They were not permitted to approach that doctor through beauty, romance, or personal relationships.
In the end, after her final treatment session, Eleanor had still chosen to make a personal promise of her own.
A possibility.
A door left slightly open for the future.
As for the doctor himself—
From beginning to end, he had never treated her as anything special.
She had simply been a patient.
Well... except for that final joke.
The one that had nearly given her a heart attack.
Eleanor had already realized that the true focus of today's meeting was probably still her.
They had made a new arrangement.
For her.
"Eleanor."
Her father spoke first.
His tone was gentle.
"We've reviewed your latest medical reports."
"You've recovered remarkably well."
"The hospital has confirmed there are no long-term complications to worry about."
He lightly tapped the table.
"This is good news for the family."
Eleanor nodded.
"Yes. I know."
Her voice carried no emotion.
Her father continued.
"Now that your health issues have been resolved, there are certain plans that can finally move forward."
He gestured toward the unfamiliar man seated beside him.
"This is Mr. Kleister, a longtime partner of our family."
"He has a son who is close to your age."
Mr. Kleister smoothly picked up the conversation.
"The cooperation between our two families in aviation leasing and logistics support has already entered its second phase."
"If we can establish a closer personal relationship as well, it would provide long-term stability and benefits for both sides."
He smiled politely.
"My son is an exceptional young man."
"He has seen your photographs and thinks highly of you."
"If the two of you marry, you'll be treated with complete respect."
"Your career will remain entirely your own."
"There will be no restrictions."
"You'll simply gain an additional role."
Marriage.
Just one more role.
The moment Eleanor heard those words, she understood something immediately.
They had already finished their analysis.
Every advantage.
Every disadvantage.
Every projection.
Every risk.
They had already reached the conclusion that this was an extremely profitable transaction.
She didn't respond right away.
Instead, she rested her hands on the table.
Her fingers spread naturally.
Then slowly curled inward.
It was how she released emotion.
For a while, she had thought the family had chosen a new direction for her future.
Now she realized the direction had never changed.
They had merely replaced the candidate.
A faint sense of irony rose within her.
Was this really all they saw?
Was marriage the inevitable destination of every woman in their world?
"Before we discuss this any further," she said at last, her voice perfectly calm, "I'd like clarification on one thing."
Her father looked at her.
"Go ahead."
"If I had undergone a lung transplant."
She spoke slowly.
"Would today's meeting still be happening?"
Silence filled the conference room.
No one had expected that question.
Her father didn't deny it.
Eventually, he answered.
"If you had undergone transplantation, we wouldn't be discussing this so soon."
"Your recovery period would have been much longer."
"And you wouldn't have been suited for this kind of role."
Eleanor nodded.
"I understand."
Then she continued.
"So, in other words..."
"The reason this meeting exists today is because I am now considered healthy enough to be married."
No one contradicted her.
She exhaled slowly.
"Then tell me."
She lifted her gaze.
"Other than the responsibilities I already fulfill for the company..."
"Is marriage now the only remaining contribution I can make to the family?"
She had finally asked the question.
"Of course not," her father answered immediately.
"You're talented. You're capable. You're valuable."
"But eventually, people marry."
He paused.
Then added:
"And they would like it to happen soon."
They?
They want me married soon?
A realization slowly settled over her.
The family's earlier attempt to test the waters had frightened someone.
Someone powerful enough to worry that the attempt might actually succeed.
The entire situation suddenly felt absurd.
And yet she understood something else.
This was no longer merely the family's decision.
"Then I'll give you my answer."
She raised her head and looked at everyone seated across the table.
"My answer is no."
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Her father frowned.
His voice became firmer.
"Eleanor. This isn't an emotional decision."
"This arrangement is the most beneficial outcome for you now that you've recovered."
"And it's the most beneficial outcome for the family."
She didn't argue about the word beneficial.
She simply looked at him.
"I know."
"That's exactly why I'm refusing."
Her tone remained completely even.
"When I was sick, you wanted me to undergo transplantation."
"Because it would have made me safer."
"More stable."
"More manageable."
"You weren't concerned about my illness itself."
"You were concerned about whether it interfered with the family's interests."
"In fact, some of you saw it as an opportunity."
The room grew noticeably quieter.
"Then I recovered."
"And the first thing you did was advance a marriage arrangement."
"Because that would erase your mistake."
"And place me into a more useful position."
She paused.
"All of these actions are fundamentally the same."
"They exist for one purpose."
"To turn me into the most useful brick in the wall."
She looked around the room.
"Wherever the family needs a brick, that's where I'm placed."
Mr. Kleister finally spoke.
"You're interpreting a reasonable arrangement as a restriction."
Eleanor turned toward him.
For the first time, there was something sharp in her eyes.
"Because that's exactly what it is."
Then she looked back at her father.
"I'm not accusing the family."
"Every decision you've made has been perfectly rational."
Her voice softened.
"But throughout this entire process..."
"No one ever asked me a single question."
She paused.
"Whether I still wanted to hand my life over for allocation."
The words landed heavily.
For the first time, her father seemed to truly see his daughter.
The daughter who had always prioritized family interests.
Who had always stayed within the boundaries.
Who had never strayed from the path.
For the first time in her life—
She had clearly said no.
"Eleanor."
For the first time, there was a warning in his voice.
"You know exactly where everything you possess comes from."
She nodded.
"Of course I do."
Then she met his gaze directly.
"But I know something else as well."
"If I don't say 'no' today..."
"Then I'll never again have the right to say it."
Silence swallowed the room.
Eleanor stood.
Unhurried.
Composed.
This was the first time she had ever risen from one of these meetings on her own initiative.
Usually, someone told her she could leave.
Not today.
"My health has recovered."
"Until I receive official notice otherwise, I will continue fulfilling my responsibilities within the company."
"But my marriage."
"My future."
"My life."
She adjusted the cuff of her sleeve.
"They are no longer subject to family deployment."
She looked around the room one final time.
"This is the last time I will explain this decision."
Her father stared at her.
His expression was complicated.
For the first time, he realized something undeniable.
His daughter was no longer under his control.
"You'll lose all support," he said.
Eleanor nodded.
"I know."
Then she smiled faintly.
"When I could barely breathe, I wasn't afraid."
"Now that I finally can..."
"There is nothing left for me to fear."
She lifted her head.
Her voice steady.
"This time, I will not accept your arrangements."
Then she turned and walked away.
The conference room door closed behind her.
The hallway beyond was quiet.
She took several steps before noticing something strange.
Her breathing remained perfectly steady.
Her heartbeat never accelerated.
There was no fear.
No hesitation.
No regret.
For the first time in her life—
The future belonged to her.
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