Episode 5

Chapter 5

That afternoon, Thalia chose one of the few simple dresses she had. It wasn't branded or expensive, but she liked how it fell on her body, and after so long, she allowed herself to fix her hair carefully. She looked in the mirror, took a deep breath, and went downstairs when she heard voices in the living room.

From the doorway, she saw three perfectly dressed people: a woman of cold elegance with an impeccable hairstyle—Adrian's mother—, another younger one, with stilettos as sharp as her gaze—his sister—, and Mr. Munoz, the patriarch, sitting with a cane at his side, as imposing as a judge.

Adrian was by the bar, with a glass in hand. When his eyes met Thalia's, he nodded with a barely perceptible gesture.

"Ah, so you're Thalia," said the mother, raising an eyebrow as she scanned her from head to toe. "What... an interesting choice, son."

Thalia stepped forward with a polite smile. She didn't want to seem intimidated, even though everything in her body screamed to run away.

"Good afternoon," she said in a firm voice.

"And where do you come from, dear?" the sister interjected, crossing one leg over the other. "You don't seem like the type of people who are usually at these gatherings."

"I don't come from anywhere worth mentioning," Thalia replied, without rancor, only with a honesty that made them uncomfortable. "But I am here."

The mother frowned. Mr. Munoz cleared his throat.

"And what do you do during the day, exactly? Do you read, take classes? Or do you just... stroll around?"

Adrian tensed, but said nothing. Thalia forced herself to stay in control.

"I take care of Amelia, and this house. Sometimes I go for walks. I still don't know what I want to do with my time. But I'm figuring it out."

"And don't you feel it's a little... late to start looking for yourself?" asked the sister, with a venomous smile.

Thalia held her gaze calmly.

"I think it's always a good time to start over. Even for you, if you wanted to."

Adrian's mother narrowed her eyes. The tension in the air was thick, like a storm that barely contained its lightning.

Adrian's father, however, let out a dry laugh.

"She's got guts, that's for sure," he said, looking at his son. "Although I don't think she's family material."

Thalia swallowed and lowered her gaze. Adrian, this time, intervened.

"With all due respect, Father... this isn't an interview. And if you're not going to talk about the issue you came for, you can leave whenever you like."

Silence fell like a bomb.

The mother stood up, composed but visibly annoyed.

"We'll see how long this whim lasts. I hope it doesn't splash more than necessary."

And they left, one by one.

When the heels of her mother-in-law and sister-in-law stopped echoing on the marble, Thalia finally felt able to breathe normally. She went to the kitchen, she needed water, or maybe something stronger. She was opening the refrigerator when she heard Mr. Munoz's firm voice say:

"Adrian, I want to talk to you. In the study."

The tone was not a request. It was an order.

Thalia hesitated for a few seconds. Despite the knot in her stomach, she thought about bringing them something to drink. She prepared two glasses with whiskey and ice, intending to do the right thing. But as she approached the study, the ajar door and the intensity of the voices forced her to stop.

It wasn't curiosity that pushed her to stand still with the tray in her hands. It was the need to understand what she was getting into.

"When you told me you had found someone to marry," Adrian's father's voice sounded like an elegant reprimand, "I thought you were serious. That, finally, you were going to settle down with someone from a good family. Like the De la Rivas. Like Bianca."

There was a pause.

"Not this... farce. Not this girl. What the hell is this, Adrian?"

Thalia felt her heart tighten. The tray trembled slightly in her hands.

"She's part of that family," Adrian replied, without raising his voice. "She's Irene De la Riva's daughter. She's Bianca's older sister."

"And what does that mean? That the maid can also bear the surname? Please."

Adrian snorted loudly, as if holding back.

"She's not a maid. Not to me."

"And what is she to the rest of the world?" his father insisted, with a venomous tone. "Do you think the investors, your partners, the board, will look kindly on this circus? All this was to give an image of order. Of family. Of stability. So that Amelia would grow up with a structure. So that the Munoz legacy wouldn't get any dirtier. But instead, you marry a woman with no preparation, no education, no renown, no class..."

"Shut up!" Adrian blurted out, for the first time losing control. "You have no idea who she is or what she's been through. And I don't need you to accept her. I just need you to respect my decision."

Thalia took a step back. She wanted to leave, but then the conversation took another turn.

"Do you think this will save you from what's already underway?" the father asked. "The will is clear. In order for you to inherit the presidency, you need to meet the requirements: be married, demonstrate family stability, and present a viable project for international expansion."

"And I'm going to get married," Adrian replied. "To her. And whether you like it or not, she has proven to have more dignity than any other person.

"Do you love her?"

The silence was as dense as a gunshot.

"No," Adrian finally said, in a low, sincere tone. "But I trust her. And Amelia adores her. That's more than I can say about any other woman I've known in my life."

"Then you're an idiot," his father concluded. "Because a marriage without convenience is just a burden."

Adrian stood up, dragging the chair.

"Or maybe I'm just a man who no longer wants to live under your conditions."

The door flew open.

Thalia took a step back so quickly that the tray trembled, the ice in the glasses tinkling like broken bells. Adrian saw her standing there, saying nothing at first.

"How much did you hear?" he asked calmly, though his eyes were sharp.

Thalia lowered her gaze.

"Enough."

Mr. Munoz passed by her without even looking at her.

Thalia had taken two steps towards the stairs when Adrian's voice stopped her.

"Wait."

She didn't turn around immediately, but ended up turning around. He was still standing by the table in the hallway, with his back straight and his face tense, as if he had made an important decision.

"Since you heard part of the conversation, you at least deserve to hear the rest," he said bluntly. "The whole truth. Without embellishments."

Thalia crossed her arms. She looked at him in silence, waiting.

Adrian exhaled forcefully.

"I didn't choose you because you're special. Or because I was attracted to you. Or even because I had some kind of emotional connection with you. You already know that. I did it because I needed to comply with a requirement from my father. And you were... adequate."

"Adequate?" she repeated, her voice hoarse.

"Yes. Someone without preparation, without resources, without influence. You weren't going to complicate things for me. You weren't going to demand love from me. I thought you were going to accept what I gave you and that's it. That you would be docile. Silent. A decorative figure that wouldn't interfere with my life."

Thalia did not react. Not a tear, not a tremor. But inside, something broke into a thousand pieces.

"So, you really bought me," she said in a neutral voice. "Like someone who buys a nice but non-functional piece of furniture."

"Not that pretty," he corrected, without thinking. But seeing Thalia's expression, he stopped. "Sorry. That sounded worse than I meant."

"No, it sounded just like you thought."

"Thalia..." Adrian ran a hand over his face, frustrated. "I just want you to understand that this doesn't have to be complicated. We can live together without hurting each other. Without expecting anything. If you pretend for others, if you do your part... you won't lack anything."

"And that should comfort me?" she asked, taking a step towards him. "Do you really think that because you gave me a house and nice clothes you turned me into something more than a shadow?"

"No, but at least I gave you something better than what you had before."

That did hurt.

Thalia clenched her fists, but her voice remained firm.

"And what makes you think I preferred this carpeted prison over my life before?"

"I didn't ask you," Adrian shrugged. "You accepted."

"I had no choice."

"Everyone has choices, Thalia. You chose to stay. Maybe out of fear, maybe because you thought this would be something else. But here you are. And now you have two paths: to continue playing the victim... or to play the role you accepted and end this with your head held high."

Thalia looked at him with contempt.

"Don't underestimate me, Adrian. I'm not as docile as you think. And even if you don't care, I respect myself. And you're going to respect me too. Not because you love me. But because I'm not less than you, even if it bothers you to admit it."

Adrian did not respond.

Thalia turned around and went upstairs, without haste, without looking back.

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