Mrs. Reyes called the next evening.
Theo put her on speaker without warning.
Mira sat on the sofa, legs tucked beneath her, trying to look calm while her heart climbed her throat.
Theo’s voice was controlled. “Mother.”
Mrs. Reyes’s tone was smooth. “Theodore. I’m told you made an announcement.”
Theo didn’t flinch. “Yes.”
A pause. “You didn’t consult me.”
Theo’s mouth tightened. “No.”
Mrs. Reyes sighed lightly, like Theo had spilled wine on her favorite rug. “Mira, dear, are you there?”
Mira’s spine went straight. Theo’s hand tightened on hers.
“Yes,” Mira said evenly. “I’m here.”
Mrs. Reyes’s voice warmed in a way that felt manufactured. “I hope you weren’t uncomfortable last night. Ethan can be… emotional.”
Mira’s stomach tightened. “Ethan is harassing me.”
Silence.
Then Mrs. Reyes said, softly, “That’s an unfortunate word.”
Theo’s gaze went cold. “It’s an accurate one.”
Mrs. Reyes ignored that. “Mira, people talk. They will try to frame you. It would be wise to step back from public events for a while.”
Mira’s jaw tightened. “Is that advice, or a request?”
Another pause, sharper this time.
Theo’s voice was flat. “Mother.”
Mrs. Reyes’s tone stayed sweet. “Theodore, I only want to protect you.”
Theo’s eyes narrowed. “From what? From loving someone you didn’t choose?”
Mira’s breath caught.
Mrs. Reyes’s voice cooled. “Don’t be dramatic.”
Theo’s hand tightened on Mira’s, and Mira felt the contained fury in him like heat under skin.
Theo spoke, controlled. “You invited Ethan.”
Mrs. Reyes laughed lightly. “I invited a guest who has known you for years. I didn’t invite him to make a scene.”
Theo’s voice went colder. “He interfered with Mira’s employment today.”
Silence again.
Mrs. Reyes finally said, “Is that true, Mira?”
Mira’s throat tightened. “Yes.”
Mrs. Reyes exhaled. “Well. That is distasteful.”
Theo’s gaze sharpened. “Distasteful is not enough.”
Mrs. Reyes’s tone shifted—harder now, the silk slipping. “Theodore, do not threaten your mother on speakerphone.”
Theo’s voice was quiet and lethal. “Then don’t endanger my girlfriend.”
Mira’s stomach flipped at the possessive certainty of *my girlfriend*—not *the arrangement*, not *Mira*, not *the woman I brought*.
Just—mine.
Mrs. Reyes’s next words landed carefully. “If you insist on this… relationship, then I insist on meeting Mira properly. Alone.”
Mira’s blood went cold. “Alone?”
Theo’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
Mrs. Reyes ignored him. “Mira, tea tomorrow. At my office. Two o’clock.”
Theo’s voice cut in, firm. “Absolutely not.”
Mrs. Reyes’s voice stayed smooth. “If Mira is going to be part of this family’s orbit, she needs to understand it.”
Theo’s jaw flexed. “She doesn’t need your approval.”
Mrs. Reyes’s voice turned sharp. “Everything in your life has my fingerprints on it, Theodore. You may not like that, but you benefit from it.”
Theo’s eyes went flat. “We’ll see.”
Mira’s throat tightened. She squeezed Theo’s hand. “Theo.”
He looked at her.
Mira breathed in slowly. “I’ll go.”
Theo’s gaze snapped back to her, shocked. “No.”
Mira’s voice was calm, even as her stomach churned. “Yes.”
Theo’s jaw tightened. “Mira, you don’t know her.”
Mira’s lips pressed together. “I know she’s going to keep pushing until she gets what she wants. If I go, I control what she learns about me.”
Theo stared at her like he was weighing risk against will.
Mrs. Reyes’s voice returned, satisfied. “Good. I’ll have my assistant send details.”
Theo’s tone was ice. “Imani will be with her.”
Mrs. Reyes chuckled. “Of course. Your fortress.”
Theo ended the call without another word.
Silence dropped.
Mira’s heart hammered.
Theo turned to her, face tight. “Why would you agree to that?”
Mira swallowed. “Because I’m tired of people using me like a weak spot.”
Theo’s eyes darkened. “You are a weak spot.”
Mira blinked. “What?”
Theo’s voice was low. “For me.”
Mira’s chest tightened. “Theo…”
Theo leaned in, hands bracketing her on the couch, gaze intense. “I don’t like that she can hurt you to get to me.”
Mira’s voice was soft. “Then don’t let her.”
Theo’s jaw flexed. “I’m trying.”
Mira reached up, touching his cheek lightly. “Let me try too.”
Theo stilled at her touch, then closed his eyes briefly like it cost him something to accept.
When he opened them, his gaze was rawer. “If she makes you feel small—”
Mira cut him off, whispering, “Then I’ll leave.”
Theo’s breath shuddered.
Mira’s thumb brushed his cheekbone. “But I’m not going to run just because she wants me to.”
Theo stared at her for a long moment, then lowered his forehead to hers.
“God,” he murmured. “You’re trouble.”
Mira’s lips curved faintly. “Efficient.”
Theo let out a low, humorless laugh, then kissed her—slow, deep, a kiss that tasted like relief and fear and wanting.
Mira kissed back, hands sliding into his hair, pulling him closer like she could anchor him the way he anchored her.
When they broke apart, Theo’s voice was rough. “We practice for tomorrow.”
Mira’s pulse jumped. “Practice what?”
Theo’s eyes held hers. “How to stand in front of her and not flinch.”
Mira swallowed. “Okay.”
Theo’s gaze darkened. “And how to look like you belong with me.”
Mira’s breath hitched.
Theo kissed her again, and Mira felt the shift—the moment where “practice” blurred into something they reached for because it soothed and burned and made everything else quieter.
Afterward, as Mira lay curled against him, her mind kept circling one thought:
Tea with Mrs. Reyes wasn’t just a meeting.
It was a test.
And Ethan was still out there—angry, humiliated, and inventive.
Mira closed her eyes and tried not to wonder which one of them would strike first.
***