The grand entrance of the Harrington mansion stood silent and regal, cloaked in the heavy stillness that follows grief. As Carmilla's family stepped inside, they were met almost immediately by the hosts.
Margaret Harrington, the matriarch, greeted them with a practiced warmth, her hand extended, her voice polished yet oddly hollow.
"Welcome, dear family," she said, her tone steeped in solemn courtesy. "We are deeply sorry for your loss. Julian was an extraordinary young man."
Carmilla's mother, her face pale and drawn, managed a fragile nod as she accepted Margaret's handshake.
"Thank you, Margaret. Your support... means more than you know."
The lavish foyer filled gradually with murmurs as mourners approached the grieving family, offering condolences and fragmented memories of Julian. Carmilla stood quietly, her heart tightening with each mention of her brother's name. Smiles tugged at faces, but they never quite reached the eyes. It was all ceremony something Julian had hated.
She forced herself to stand tall, polite, unmoving. The weight of expectation pressed heavily on her. Julian's death had done more than devastate their hearts. it had left their family business gasping for breath. And now, this gathering had a hidden purpose that went beyond mourning.
As the reception began to fade, the crowds thinned. Only the two families remained.
Carmilla's mother, her gaze fixed firmly on Margaret, finally broke the silence.
"I think it's time we discuss... the arrangements."
Margaret's smile slipped into something colder, more calculated. She nodded once.
"Yes. Of course. The merger was originally to be sealed through Julian. His passing was... tragic. But our plans don't have to end here."
Carmilla's chest tightened. She knew what was coming. Still, hearing it spoken aloud felt like betrayal stitched into her skin.
"My daughter," her mother continued, voice taut with unspoken desperation, "is willing to take Julian's place. In the arrangement."
Carmilla's breath hitched. She felt exposed, like a pawn set out on a board she never agreed to play on. Her hands trembled slightly, but she said nothing. What choice did she have?
Margaret turned to her, the faintest glimmer of approval in her eyes.
"A strong girl," she said softly. "I think that's an excellent solution. Harrison come meet Carmilla."
A tall figure emerged from behind the room's edge. Harrison Harrington. He moved with quiet authority, his dark eyes settling on Carmilla with intensity. When he reached her, he stared carefully at her before greeting. It was his way always as this helps him to read people. He had already observed her during the ceremony without her knowing.
"Harrison," he said, stretching his hands out, his voice smooth and measured. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
She placed her hand in his, the contact cool and brief. "Carmilla", she replied, though her smile was forced, her eyes wary.
A silence followed, weighted and uncomfortable.
"I believe we should discuss the details," Carmilla's mother said, attempting to regain momentum.
Margaret agreed with a nod. "Yes. Let's move to the study."
They walked into a stately room lined with books and power. At its center stood a massive mahogany desk, polished to perfection. Margaret settled behind it. Carmilla's mother sat opposite her. Carmilla remained standing, while Harrison hovered beside her, quietly observant.
Margaret leaned forward. "Here is what we propose. Carmilla will marry Harrison. In return, we will provide the financial backing your company needs. The merger will proceed under new terms."
Carmilla swallowed hard. Her thoughts spun in protest, but outwardly she remained still.
"I understand," she said finally, the words tasting bitter in her mouth.
"Good." Margaret's lips curled into a satisfied smile. "Our lawyers will prepare the documents. We'll make the necessary announcements shortly."
Carmilla nodded numbly. Her fate had just been sealed behind closed doors, traded for survival.
As they left the study, Harrison placed a light hand on her arm. She stiffened slightly, and he noticed.
"It's just an arranged marriage," he said quietly, not meeting her eyes. "Once both families get what they want, we can go for an annulment."
His words halted her in her tracks. She turned to him, shocked.
"You're against this marriage too?"
He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. "I'm the first son. I carry responsibilities—weight I never asked for. If marrying you protects everything my family has built, I'll do it. That doesn't mean I asked for this."
Carmilla stared at him, unsure whether to feel relief or offense. She felt the sting of sacrifice on both their parts.
"I need a moment alone," she said quietly, turning away.
He hesitated. "Why don't we return together, at least we can deceive them about getting along. Don't you think?. Also, I'd rather not leave you wandering alone especially not in this house."
Carmilla, still lost in thought, nodded without a word. Together, they rejoined the others.
The remaining family members were gathered in the foyer again, this time exchanging farewell pleasantries. Mr. Hunt stepped forward, extending a grateful hand to Arthur Harrington.
"Thank you for this memorial. The Hunt family will always remember it."
Arthur returned the handshake with a reassuring smile.
"It's nothing. We are family, after all. Your family must be exhausted, Please go rest. We'll take care of the guests here."
With soft words and tired expressions, the Hunts took their leave.
As the grand doors closed behind them, Carmilla remained by the staircase, her gaze lost in the chandeliers above. Her brother was gone. Her future had been rewritten. And now, she stood on the edge of a life she never asked for, alongside a stranger who was as much a prisoner of duty as she was.
The quiet that followed wasn't peaceful, it was a prelude.
And deep inside, Carmilla knew this was just the beginning.