The weight of the elders' words settled over the room like an invisible storm, shifting the atmosphere in an instant. A proposal—not of business, not of partnership, but of marriage.
Liyana sat still, her expression unreadable, but inside, her mind was already racing.
Marriage.
It wasn't as if she hadn't seen this coming. The signs had been there—their families' long-standing bond, the occasional hints, the warmth with which the Lus treated her, as if she already belonged. She should have been prepared for it.
And yet, hearing it spoken aloud, so decisively, so certainly, made her pulse slow, her grip against the chair's armrest tightening ever so slightly.
She had fought her way to where she was, carved her own empire, refused to be seen as anything less than a formidable force in a world where men ruled. And now, they wanted her to marry into another empire? To unite two legacies through something as archaic as marriage?
She exhaled slowly, keeping her face carefully neutral.
Across from her, Damien sat in perfect ease—one arm resting along the back of his chair, his fingers tapping against the wood in a slow, measured rhythm. Unlike her, he looked almost entertained, the faintest ghost of a smirk teasing the edge of his lips.
Of course, he would.
Liyana didn't turn to him. She didn't need to. She could already imagine the glint in his eyes, the silent amusement playing in his gaze as if he had already anticipated this moment long before it arrived.
But had he?
Had Damien known that their families would take this step?
Would he fight against it, the way she wanted to? Or would he let it happen, watching to see if she was the one who flinched first?
Her stomach coiled in something sharp, something close to irritation.
No.
She wouldn't react. Wouldn't give him—or anyone—the satisfaction of seeing her falter.
If this was a game, she wouldn't be the one to lose.
She slowly raised her gaze, finally looking at the elders.
Their eyes held warmth, expectation, and something deeper—an unspoken assurance that this was the natural path forward.
Liyana parted her lips to speak.
But before she could, Damien moved.
His fingers, which had been lazily tapping against the chair, stilled. And then, with deliberate slowness, he leaned forward, his deep voice breaking the silence.
"Marriage," he mused, his tone smooth. "That's quite a proposal."
His gaze flickered toward her, dark and unreadable.
"Don't you think so, Liyana?"
His words weren't just a question.
They were a challenge.
Damien's words hung in the air like a perfectly laid trap, waiting for her response.
Liyana inhaled slowly, keeping her expression carefully neutral. She had faced boardrooms filled with ruthless executives, outmaneuvered competitors who underestimated her, and built her empire with nothing but sheer will and strategy. But now, sitting in the grand Lu mansion, surrounded by two of the most powerful families in the country, she found herself in the middle of a battle she never intended to fight.
A marriage proposal.
Of all the things they could have discussed tonight, this was the last thing she wanted.
But she couldn't outright reject it. Not when the elders were looking at her with such hope, their words laced with a lifetime of unspoken expectations.
Liyana offered a small, polite smile. "I'm honored," she began, her tone measured, "but I think marriage is a very... delicate matter. It's not something that should be decided based on legacy alone."
Her mother sighed softly. "Of course, dear. But a marriage between you two would be more than just legacy. You've known each other since childhood. There's familiarity, trust—"
"—and mutual respect," her grandfather added. "That is the foundation of a strong partnership, isn't it?"
Liyana forced herself to remain composed. They weren't wrong—there was familiarity, trust, and even a strange sort of respect between her and Damien. But that didn't mean marriage was the answer.
She needed more reasons. More logical reasons to dismiss the idea without disappointing them.
"I'm married to my work," she said lightly, her fingers tracing the rim of her untouched wine glass. "Celeste is still expanding. I can't afford distractions right now."
Madam Lu chuckled. "A marriage isn't a distraction, dear. It's a partnership."
Liyana resisted the urge to sigh. She should have known they'd counter that.
"I travel frequently for business," she tried again. "And Damien does as well. Our schedules would never align."
"That's hardly an issue," her grandfather dismissed. "You're both capable of balancing responsibilities."
Liyana pursed her lips. Of course, they had a response for everything.
She needed something stronger.
"Marriage requires compatibility," she said smoothly, her voice calm despite the growing weight in her chest. "And I don't think Damien and I see each other that way."
At that, Lu Meilin gasped dramatically. "What?! But you two are perfect together!"
Lu Yuhan, usually the quieter of the two, nodded in agreement. "It makes sense. You both already act like a power couple."
Liyana blinked. "We do not."
Meilin grinned. "Oh, but you do. The way you bicker, the way you challenge each other—it's so intense! You'd be the ultimate power couple!"
Liyana shot her a look. "Meilin—"
"Imagine the wedding," Meilin continued, clasping her hands together, her excitement completely unchecked. "A grand event, everyone dressed in the most elegant gowns, the business world shaking at the news of your union—"
"Meilin." Damien's voice, cool and firm, cut through the excitement.
Meilin froze, her eyes wide. "What?"
Damien exhaled, leaning back in his seat, his gaze settling on the elders. "I respect our families' wishes," he said, his tone smooth but unmistakably resolute. "But marriage between us isn't an option."
Liyana's breath stilled.
Not because of his rejection—she had been working toward that herself—but because of the way he said it.
Absolute. Unwavering.
Like there wasn't even a possibility worth considering.
The elders frowned slightly, and her grandfather was the first to speak. "And why is that, Damien?"
Damien's gaze flickered briefly toward Liyana before returning to the elders. "Because Liyana is like a sister to me."
The words, spoken so effortlessly, settled over the table.
Liyana felt something strange in her chest.
She should be relieved. This was what she wanted. A firm, undeniable rejection of the idea.
But something about the way he said it—so casually, so certainly—left an odd feeling behind.
Silence stretched, before Damien added, "I've known her since we were children. There's nothing romantic between us, and there never will be."
Liyana's fingers curled slightly against her lap.
The elders exchanged glances, clearly displeased but unwilling to push further just yet.
Meilin, meanwhile, looked horrified. "Sister?!" she echoed, her face twisted in disbelief. "Damien-ge, how could you say something so cruel?!"
Yuhan exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Here we go."
Meilin pointed an accusing finger at her brother. "That is the worst thing you could say to a woman! What is wrong with you?!"
Damien remained utterly unfazed. "It's the truth."
Liyana let out a quiet breath. "Enough, Meilin."
Meilin turned to her. "No! You're not mad?! He just friend-zoned you into sibling territory!"
Liyana forced a smirk. "I think I'll live."
Meilin looked betrayed. "Unbelievable."
Madam Xu sighed, shaking her head. "Well, this wasn't the reaction we hoped for."
Damien's grandfather studied him carefully, but in the end, he didn't push further. Instead, he simply said, "I suppose this matter will need more thought."
Liyana didn't miss the subtle weight behind those words. They weren't done with this yet.
But for now, the conversation shifted.
Business. Investments. Future plans.
Yet, despite the change in topic, Liyana could still feel the heaviness of what had just been said lingering in the air.
And somehow, Damien's words—his absolute certainty—echoed louder than anything else.
Like a sister.
For reasons she couldn't quite explain, the words left a bitter aftertaste.
And she hated that they did.