**Chapter 3** **ARCHER** The moment I step into the room, our eyes lock, and the air thickens with unspoken tension. Winnie is seated in her father’s grand office chair, her petite figure hunched forward, radiating a palpable sense of fear that seems to shrink her even more. The sight of her, so vulnerable, tugs at something deep inside me—a feeling I instinctively try to suppress. “Good morning, Archer,” Spencer, Winnie’s father, greets me as he rises from behind his imposing desk. Though my attention is consumed by Winnie’s wide, shocked eyes, I catch a glimpse of his authoritative figure moving around the desk, an unwelcome reminder of our bitter rivalry. Winnie’s gaze remains glued to me, her glossy, pink lips parted as if she’s caught in a dream she never wanted to enter. I force myself to look away, reminding myself that staring won’t help either of us. The man before me is a figure I've been taught to regard as the enemy my entire life. In the world we inhabit—filled with galas and socialites—the Bishops and the Moores navigate the same circles like galaxies destined to collide, yet we avoid each other at all costs. It all stems from a betrayal decades ago, an oversight by her great-grandfather that led to my family being wronged. The scars of that betrayal have festered into a feud that neither side seems willing to forget, with both mine and her father fueling the flames. Part of me should pity Winnie's family for the consequences of their ancestors' actions, yet I cannot afford that luxury. My family's hotel empire stands tall and victorious, a testament to our resolve in this silent war. “Thank you for coming to finalize our agreement in person,” Spencer continues, his hand extended towards me. I grip it firmly, asserting my position with a calculated confidence. I can see the slight twitch of his lips—the man knows who holds the real power in this room. It isn’t him, and he loathes it. He called my father first thing this morning, desperate for assistance with the predicament currently engulfing his family. When my dad summoned me to his office with the shocking news that Spencer Bishop needed our help, I felt a mix of disbelief and dread. After an hour-long phone conversation, my fate was sealed—I had to come here. “I have another meeting in an hour,” I reply tersely, eager to cut through the fluff. “Have a seat,” Spencer insists, gesturing to the chair beside Winnie’s. Our eyes meet for a fleeting moment, and I sigh heavily, pulling the chair further from her to create distance—though the intoxicating scent of her perfume seems to follow me, wrapping around me like a warm embrace. I reluctantly unbutton my suit jacket as I settle down. “Winifred,” Spencer begins, his tone dripping with disdain. “This is Archer Moore. He’s here to help us deal with your dreadful mistake.” My teeth clench instinctively. I can’t stand the way he talks to her, so dismissively, as though her very existence is a burden. Doesn’t he see the way she shudders at his words? The way her shoulders hunch as if trying to become smaller under his harsh gaze? “What do you mean?” Her voice trembles, barely above a whisper. I shift my attention between the two, dreading the truth that I know is coming. If this is how he speaks to her in front of me, I shudder at the thought of what occurs behind closed doors. Spencer’s anger simmers over, painting his face a darker shade of red. “We’re in a bind because of you and your reckless decision to get involved with one of our employees.” At his words, Winnie visibly flinches. “I never thought…” “Yes, that’s the problem,” he snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “We’ll address your foolish choices later. Right now, we have to fix this mess.” I suppress an overwhelming desire to reach across the space separating us and reassure her. Instead, my hands remain firmly planted in my lap, anchoring me against the swirling emotions in the room. There’s nowhere I’d rather not be than here, in the CEO's office of Bishop Hotels. Had it not been for my father’s request, I would’ve thrown caution to the wind and told Spencer where to go. But the drive to earn my father’s approval is a flame that burns relentlessly within me, urging me to comply if I ever hope to ascend to the helm of the Moore hotel dynasty. My mind is racing with justifications for my presence here, but it’s evident I’m expected to respond to Spencer’s instructions. Both he and Winnie are looking at me, eyes expectant yet anxious. “Would you like to explain to her what we’re doing?” Spencer’s gaze remains locked on me rather than on his daughter. My fingers tap a nervous rhythm against my thigh. Not really. Honestly, I’d prefer to avoid laying a heavy burden on her shoulders altogether. I know why I’m here: the Moore Hotels are on the verge of acquiring a significant share in Bishop Hotels, a move that will position me as a decision-maker—an unprecedented victory that will send ripples through the industry. “Tell me what?” Winnie presses, her voice slicing through my thoughts, soft yet laced with confusion. A controlled sigh escapes my lips as I attempt to ease the tightness building in my chest. I never anticipated I would be the one to shatter her world with this news. I had envisioned sitting here alone with Spencer, negotiating shrewdly until I secured a deal in our favor, all without involving her until the contracts were signed and sealed. But instead, I stand poised to deliver a hard blow to her seemingly fragile life, shackling her with an expectation so weighty it could crush her spirit. I understand the burden of parental expectations all too well. A part of me wrestles with guilt, but it’s a fleeting emotion that quickly drowns in the demands of family loyalty. Silence stretches between us, the only sounds being the distant hum of the office and the thudding pulse in my ears as I brace myself for what I have to say. Finally, with a deep breath, I let the words tumble forth, unvarnished and blunt. “We’re getting married.” I watch as the words land heavily, watching her register the reality of what I just laid bare, hoping my slow, deliberate tone will somehow soften the impact.