In a twist of fate, a wealthy heir believed he was bound to wed an unattractive stranger in an arranged marriage, only to be stunned when she unveiled her face…

David stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. I don’t need this, he said, his voice low and simmering with anger. I don’t need her.

You’ll meet her tomorrow, his mother said, standing as well. Her voice carried an air of finality. At dinner.

And I expect you to behave like the man we raised you to be. David stared at her, his jaw tight, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned and strode out of the dining room, the weight of their expectations pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket.

Upstairs in his room, David poured himself a glass of whiskey and stared out the window, the city lights twinkling in the distance. The anger coursing through him was sharp and unrelenting. An arranged marriage.

To a woman who wouldn’t even show her face. It felt like a bad joke, a relic from a time long past. He downed the whiskey in one gulp, the burn doing little to dull the edge of his frustration.

Tomorrow, he thought bitterly. Tomorrow he would meet this Anna and see what kind of game his parents were playing. One thing was certain, he wasn’t going to make this easy for anyone.

The next evening, the Whitman estate was abuzz with quiet activity as the staff prepared for the dinner. David arrived in his parents’ formal sitting room, his expression carefully neutral, though his frustration simmered beneath the surface. His father greeted him with a nod while his mother offered a tight-lipped smile.

She’ll be here shortly, she said, smoothing her dress. Wonderful, David muttered under his breath, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. Moments later, the sound of heels clicking against the polished floor drew their attention.

David looked up as a woman entered, escorted by an older man he recognized as one of the Whitman patriarchs. She moved with grace, her posture straight and composed. A long veil covered her face, flowing down to her shoulders, leaving only her strikingly sharp eyes visible.

They were an unusual shade of gray, bright and piercing, almost as if they could see through him. David, his mother said, stepping forward with a welcoming smile. This is Anna.

Anna inclined her head slightly, her voice calm and measured. It’s a pleasure to meet you, David. David hesitated, his gaze fixed on her veil.

He extended his hand automatically, but his mind was racing. Likewise, he said, though his tone lacked conviction. They were seated around the dining table, the atmosphere stilted and formal.

David found it impossible to focus on the small talk being exchanged between their parents. His attention kept drifting back to Anna, to her stillness, her measured responses, and most of all to the veil that obscured her face. Halfway through dinner, David could no longer contain his irritation.

He set down his fork and turned to Anna, his voice low but pointed. You don’t have to keep that on, you know. No one here is going to judge you.

His mother shot him a warning glance, but Anna remained unbothered. Her eyes flicked toward him, calm and steady. I appreciate your concern, she said softly, but I prefer to keep it on…