Dianna's POV
By the next morning, I was still trying to convince myself that my grandmother's wish had been a joke.
It hadn't been.
Not in the slightest.
Get married. Just those three words had been quietly drilled into my head overnight, and now they echoed relentlessly, like an annoying ringtone that refused to stop.
Marriage. To someone. Anyone.
It was physically impossible. Surely, there was a clause somewhere in human biology or civil law that allowed a thirty-year-old to politely reject lifelong partnerships proposed by octogenarians.
But if such a clause existed, I hadn't read it.
I had managed to survive my grandmother's intimidating brilliance, her endless expectations, and her uncanny ability to anticipate every possible misstep I could make in life.
The elevator doors opened onto the top floor of Beaumont Holdings, and I stepped into the familiar hallway. The smell of polished wood and expensive coffee was, as always, faintly comforting.
At least the building hadn't changed. Unlike my personal life, which was rapidly turning into a soap opera.
"Miss Beaumont," Clara, our head receptionist, said politely while looking up from her desk.
"Good morning, Clara," I replied.
"There's... someone waiting in your office," she said carefully, glancing toward the slightly ajar door.
"Already?" I asked, my eyebrows rising.
"Yes. He said it was important," she added, giving me that subtle 'brace yourself' look that suggested she had been briefed on some of the stakes, though probably not all of them.
Wonderful. Important meetings before noon were rarely pleasant.
I walked slowly toward my office, mentally preparing myself. Maybe it was a financial issue. Maybe a partnership proposal. Maybe another investor with an idea that would require me to completely restructure our operations for reasons that made sense only in theory.
Anything reasonable.
Then again… reasonable was clearly no longer in the cards.
The door to my office was slightly open. I pushed it gently and stepped inside.
A man stood near the window with his hands behind his back, surveying the city skyline like he was calculating stock prices instead of dropping life-altering news into my lap. He turned when he heard the door.
I blinked.
Because I recognized him immediately.
Victor Callaghan.
He wasn't just a stranger sent to propose some absurd political contract. Victor was… a friend.
Not exactly family, not exactly a colleague. Just one of those rare people who had quietly become a part of our lives. He and my grandmother, Lianna, had met under circumstances I wasn't entirely privy to...something about a business deal that went wrong and a shared love of outrageously expensive tea sets. Somehow, in the midst of that chaos, they became inseparable.
He treated her like a mother, as if her opinion were law. Which, in this case, meant that I should probably listen very carefully to what he had to say.
"Mr. Callaghan," I calmly greeted.
"Dianna," he politely replied, "thank you for seeing me on such short notice."
"Of course," I replied, gesturing to the chair opposite my desk. "Please, have a seat."
He shook his head. "No, thank you. I'll stand. I prefer to keep things brief."
I suppressed the first of many sighs. Victor always had this way of looking completely at ease.
"Well, I insist. It's still my office, after all."
He offered a small, amused smile and took a seat. "Very well. Just a moment, then. I'd like to begin with a word about your grandmother, if I may."
I settled into my chair, nodding politely. "Go ahead."
Victor's expression softened. "I visited your grandmother yesterday. She speaks very highly of you, as always. She values your judgment, your patience… and your ability to handle matters most people would find overwhelming."
I blinked. Somehow this conversation felt like it would eventually lead to something I wouldn't really like.
"She also asked me to speak with you on her behalf," he continued, "to address a matter that requires careful consideration."
I leaned forward slightly.
'Careful consideration. That's lawyer-talk for trouble, isn't it?' I thought.
Victor's gaze flicked toward the window briefly, then returned to me. "I wanted to meet first, properly, before we discuss any specifics."
He held that calm, measured posture for a moment longer, as if savoring the brief pause before dropping the next piece of chaos into my life.
I inclined my head politely.
He straightened slightly with his shoulders back, and hands still clasped in front of him. "Your grandmother requested that I speak with you regarding a personal matter...one that involves both discretion and mutual agreement."
My curiosity piqued despite myself.
Victor's gaze softened, almost apologetic. "She believes that, under the right circumstances, an arrangement could be made that would satisfy both our interests without causing unnecessary disruption to your life."
I leaned back in my chair, processing his words. He spoke carefully, politely, as though every sentence were measured with the precision of a tightrope walker.
And yet, I could feel the undercurrent of inevitability beneath it all.
"An arrangement," he clarified gently, "would involve… your grandmother's wish and my motive being fulfilled in a temporary capacity, with respect to both parties' lives."
I frowned slightly, trying to parse the polite phrasing. "Temporary, you say."
He gave a small nod. "Yes. Temporary. Your grandmother only wishes to ensure the matter is handled thoughtfully. She trusts your judgment."
I let out a small, dry laugh. "Handled thoughtfully." I repeated.
I suppressed the first of many sighs.
"And the matter at hand?" I asked carefully, keeping my voice polite.
He gave a small nod. "It concerns my son, Theodore. He is well-known, as you are aware, and certain… personal matters have become public knowledge. My aim is to ensure that his image...our family's reputation, is secured in a manner that benefits everyone involved."
I blinked in shocked as I finally realized what this talk is about.
Victor's gaze was calm but firm. "Your grandmother suggested that the most effective solution would be a formal arrangement between you and my son. A marriage that will, for all appearances, be a loving union in the public eye."
Victor's expression softened slightly. "She believes this could serve both parties. You would fulfill her wish, and Theodore would present an image more… suitable to public expectation that would benefit me."
I forced a small smile, straightening in my chair. Suitable to public expectation. Right.
For short, the simple translation to his words is that his son's been a notorious playboy, and now I'm supposed to make him look… presentable.
Somehow. In front of cameras. And everyone.
Victor inclined his head. "I wanted you to meet him first, to speak in person before any commitments are considered." he paused.
"...and he is waiting for you outside."